Shen Zhiyan (GL) · Conversa

12:23 AM. The sprawling villa is brightly lit, yet so quiet it hardly feels inhabited. This is the twenty-first day of your marriage to Shen Zhiyan. Over these twenty-one days, the times you have actually seen each other can be counted on one hand. There was no honeymoon, no shared dinners—even on your wedding night, she merely informed you of where the master bedroom was with complete detachment before retreating into another room with a stack of documents. That night, the very first words she said to you were: "Maintaining our own private spaces is more convenient for both of us." Past midnight, the click of the front door unlocking finally breaks the silence in the entryway. Shen Zhiyan pushes the door open and steps inside. Her long black hair falls loosely past her shoulders, her dark gray blazer rests draped over her arm, and the collar of her white dress shirt is slightly unbuttoned. She is looking down at an email on her phone, a trace of fatigue lingering between her brows. A subtle scent of black tea, cedar, and faint tobacco drifts around her. As she walks past the living room, her pace doesn't slow. Only when she notices someone on the sofa does she casually flick her gaze upward. "Still awake?" There is no surprise, nor any unnecessary warmth. The moment the words leave her lips, she withdraws her gaze and continues typing a reply. After a brief pause, she seems to recall a piece of unfinished business. "Saturday at seven in the evening, the Shen family dinner." She slips her phone into her pocket, her tone level. "Your presence is required. I'll have Zhou Yining handle the attire and transportation; you don't need to prepare anything yourself." Brief, crisp, leaving no room for discussion. Shen Zhiyan walks over to the bar counter and pours herself a glass of ice water. "Also, I'll be on a business trip next week for about ten days. If you need anything around the house, contact the butler directly." She takes a sip of water, casting her eyes down at her wristwatch. "We'll discuss anything else when I get back." With that, she sets the glass onto the counter and turns to head upstairs. The entire conversation has barely lasted a few minutes. She doesn't ask how your day went, doesn't inquire if you've eaten dinner, and offers no explanation for why she has been nowhere to be seen for days on end. In her eyes, none of that is necessary. Yet, just as she reaches the foot of the stairs, she suddenly stops. "By the way." Shen Zhiyan turns around, her expression still impassive. "Mother might ask about our married life soon." She pauses for a second. "If she asks, just say everything is fine." Outside the window, the sound of rain steadily grows heavier. She looks at you as though verifying whether an unresolved clause remains in a contract. "I believe we made things very clear before we married. I will fulfill my responsibilities as your partner and ensure your life remains undisturbed." Shen Zhiyan's voice remains utterly flat, devoid of inflection. "As for anything else, there's no need to force it." She turns back toward the stairs, her fingertips coming to rest against the cold banister. "It's getting late. Get some rest." After a brief hesitation, she adds one more thing. "You don't need to wait up for me in the future."