From that day on, the marital home at Jiuxi Bay became a magnificent ice cellar.
Yu Sheng's disgust toward Shen Yunmian no longer needed words. It lingered in the air, crystallized in fleeting eye contact, and flowed through the deliberate distance she kept.
Every careful attempt Shen Yunmian made to approach was met with Yu Sheng's undisguised frown and retreat. She couldn't even be bothered to argue anymore—complete indifference had become her sharpest weapon.
That chill inevitably spread to the company.
At joint meetings between the two groups, the atmosphere was so heavy it felt suffocating.
Yu Sheng spoke concisely throughout, never once letting her gaze meet Shen Yunmian's at the head of the table. Meanwhile, President Shen—known for her composure—lost focus multiple times while Yu Sheng was speaking, her eyes uncontrollably following that distant figure with an almost greedy fixation.
"President Shen?" her secretary reminded softly.
Shen Yunmian snapped back to attention, masking the embarrassment in her eyes and regaining her usual calm. "Continue."
But the subtle tension had already been noticed by every perceptive executive present.
Rumors began to spread quietly.
Soon, talk of the two CEOs' marriage hitting the rocks—and an impending split—once again swept through the business world.
At first, both Shen Yunmian and Yu Sheng tacitly chose silence.
But rumors don't stop just because you ignore them.
They grew more intense, even beginning to affect business. Although several of Yu Group's independent projects were progressing well, the market still habitually tied it to Shen Group.
"Can Yu Group really operate independently without Shen Group?"
"With the marriage alliance breaking, Yu Group's prospects look uncertain."
Comments like these began to circulate. Yu Group's not-yet-stable stock price responded by dropping.
Calls from dissatisfied shareholders flooded Yu Sheng's office.
"President Yu, the stock fluctuations must be stabilized as soon as possible!"
Yu Sheng held the overheated phone, working with Su Qingyu to steady the internal situation with difficulty.
But externally, the storm continued to batter Yu Group, a ship not yet fully independent.
After an internal meeting, only Yu Sheng and Su Qingyu remained in the office.
The setting sun cast long shadows through the floor-to-ceiling windows, stretching Yu Sheng's weary figure. She rubbed her aching temples, unable to hide the fatigue in her voice. "Qingyu, it's more troublesome than we expected."
Su Qingyu placed the latest report in front of her, calm and objective. "President Yu, our profitability is steadily improving. Short-term fluctuations won't affect the fundamentals. But the market still doubts our risk resistance. The label of relying on Shen Group won't disappear overnight—it will take time to prove otherwise."
She paused, looking at Yu Sheng carefully. "Right now… the quickest and most effective way to stabilize the stock price is to dispel the divorce rumors."
Yu Sheng raised her eyes sharply. "What are you suggesting?"
Meeting her gaze, Su Qingyu spoke plainly. "Perhaps you'll need to 'sacrifice' a little… and show some affection with President Shen."
The air froze for a moment.
"Show affection?" Yu Sheng repeated, a faint trace of mockery curling at her lips.
So this marriage—its final value—was being realized now.
She didn't hesitate much, only finding it somewhat ironic, and answered casually, "Fine. I understand."
Even Su Qingyu was slightly surprised by how calm she was.
Yu Sheng acted quickly. She picked up her personal phone, found the name buried at the bottom of her contacts, and dialed.
The moment the call connected, hurried breathing could be heard from the other side.
"Sheng… Sheng Sheng?" Shen Yunmian's voice carried disbelief and faint trembling.
It had been far too long since Yu Sheng had called her first.
Ignoring the emotion in her voice, Yu Sheng spoke in a businesslike tone. "Are you free tonight? Let's have dinner."
Silence fell on the other end.
Shen Yunmian seemed stunned by the sudden "gift," unable to respond for a long moment.
"Shen Yunmian?" Yu Sheng frowned impatiently.
"I am! I'm free!" Shen Yunmian snapped back, almost stumbling over her words. "What do you want to eat? Chinese? Western? Japanese? I know a newly opened French restaurant that's really good, the atmosphere is nice, or—"
"Anything's fine," Yu Sheng cut her off. "Just pick somewhere convenient for photos."
It was like a bucket of cold water poured over Shen Yunmian's enthusiasm. She seemed to realize something, her voice dropping. "…Photos?"
"Mm." Yu Sheng's tone remained calm, directive. "Arrange a few reliable reporters. Take some 'loving and harmonious' photos of us, then release them online. After that, have your PR team clarify the recent divorce rumors."
So it was just a carefully staged PR show.
She—Shen Yunmian—had the honor of becoming a tool for her wife's stock price.
Her heart felt like it had sunk into an icy winter lake, slowly freezing over.
The long silence on the other end made Yu Sheng frown slightly. "Is there a problem?"
"…No." Shen Yunmian's voice was hoarse, carrying a resigned exhaustion. "I understand. I'll send you the location. I'll handle the reporters and the clarification."
She didn't ask why. She didn't show even a hint of anger at being used. She simply accepted this long-awaited yet cruel "date."
After hanging up, Shen Yunmian stood still for a long time, phone in hand.
The sun outside was bright, but she felt cold to the bone.
So this was all the value she had left.
Fine.
She forced a bitter smile.
Even if it was just being used, if it could earn her a meal together, it was enough.
Though she knew it was only a performance for others, Shen Yunmian still devoted herself to it with near-reverence.
She had her secretary reserve the hardest-to-book seaside restaurant in the city. Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows lay a bay submerged in deep blue night, dotted with yacht lights and distant city neon, dreamlike.
But that wasn't enough.
She canceled all her afternoon plans and personally met with her stylist. Her hair was arranged into an effortless elegance, her makeup light yet perfectly highlighting her features. From dozens of haute couture dresses, she chose a wine-red off-shoulder gown Yu Sheng had once said "really suits you."
The woman in the mirror was cold, noble, and breathtaking.
Like a peacock spreading its feathers with all its might—knowing no one would admire it, yet stubbornly displaying every brilliant plume.
On the way to the restaurant, she drew countless admiring gazes, yet none were the one she longed for.
She arrived too early.
Seated at the best view, her fingers unconsciously traced the cold wine glass.
Time stretched endlessly—each second filled with anticipation, and the quiet fear of being stood up.
When that familiar figure finally appeared at the restaurant entrance, Shen Yunmian let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.
Yu Sheng had come straight from the company. Dressed in a sharp black suit skirt, her long hair tied back neatly without a single strand out of place, she clashed completely with the romantic, languid atmosphere here—more like a high-level corporate worker who had walked into the wrong venue.
Her gaze fell on the meticulously dressed Shen Yunmian, and she paused for a moment in clear surprise before walking over as if nothing had happened.
"A bit much, isn't it?" Yu Sheng said flatly. "You could walk a red carpet in that outfit."
All the careful preparation was dismissed so lightly. Shen Yunmian's fingertips trembled slightly, but she pretended not to hear the sting in those words. She quickly stood, pulled out the chair across from her, and tried to keep her voice steady.
"Take a look at what you want to eat. The blue lobster and black truffle risotto here are pretty good…"
She handed over the menu attentively, trying to break the suffocating awkwardness with food.
Yu Sheng flipped through it casually, clearly uninterested.
"You decide." She closed the menu and turned her gaze to the dazzling yet cold sea view outside the window.
The dishes were served one after another.
Exquisite plating, expensive ingredients—but they stirred no appetite at all.
Silence filled the table.
Yu Sheng had no interest in making conversation, nor in pretending affection.
Shen Yunmian searched her mind desperately for something to say. How have you been? She didn't dare ask, afraid of touching a nerve. Financial news? That would be ridiculous. She realized just how barren she was—before the person she most wanted to talk to, she couldn't find a single suitable opening line.
She had never been good with words.
In the end, she gave up, pouring herself a glass of red wine. The rich liquid slid down her throat but brought no warmth. She sipped it slowly, her gaze inevitably drifting back to Yu Sheng.
Watching her lowered eyes, her slender fingers holding a spoon, the slight relaxation of her brows when tasting dessert…
Even this kind of false companionship, even sitting in silence—she cherished it.
But time was merciless.
Not long after, Yu Sheng set down her spoon, wiped her lips with a napkin, her movements elegant yet signaling an end.
She looked up at Shen Yunmian, her question direct and practical.
"Are the reporters arranged?"
All the lingering softness shattered instantly.
The light in Shen Yunmian's eyes dimmed. She nodded, her voice dry.
"…They're arranged."
Seeing Yu Sheng about to get up, panic flickered in her heart. She grasped for something—anything—to make her stay.
"Um… dessert—do you want to try something else? Or the viewing deck here…"
Her words came out disjointed and helpless.
Yu Sheng wasn't listening.
Her gaze had already shifted past Shen Yunmian, as if confirming whether the cameras hidden in the distance were in place.
Then suddenly, she made a move that caught Shen Yunmian completely off guard.
She leaned forward, closing the distance.
From the angle of the distant cameras, it looked undeniably intimate—like they were about to kiss.
Shen Yunmian froze completely, her mind going blank. It had been so long since Yu Sheng had taken the initiative to approach her. So close that she could smell the faint cool fragrance on her, feel the warmth of her breath brushing against her ear.
Her heart pounded wildly, as if it would break free from her chest.
But the touch she longed for never came.
Yu Sheng's lips stopped just short of her cheek, then her warm breath brushed against her ear as she whispered in a voice only they could hear—calm to the point of cruelty:
"Don't move."
"Let them get a few convincing shots."
So that was it.
Shen Yunmian's body remained stiff, even her breathing halted, silently praying for the moment to last longer.
Just a little longer.
But after only a few seconds, Yu Sheng pulled back swiftly, her tone completely indifferent:
"That's enough. They've got what they need. I'm leaving. Handle the rest."
She turned and left, the crisp sound of her heels striking the floor without a trace of hesitation.
Shen Yunmian sat there rigidly, watching Yu Sheng disappear around the corner, taking with her the last bit of warmth in the room.
After an unknown amount of time, the reporter who had been secretly taking photos approached quietly, handing over the camera for her to review.
Shen Yunmian's gaze locked onto the screen.
The photos were expertly angled, capturing that "almost-kiss" in an extremely intimate and ambiguous way. The short video clearly recorded the moment Yu Sheng leaned in and whispered in her ear.
In the footage, her own expression was stunned—yet unable to hide that pitiful trace of expectation.
She stared at the video, replaying it again and again, her fingers lightly tracing Yu Sheng's outline on the cold screen.
After a long while, she finally found her voice, hoarse as she spoke to the reporter:
"Post it."
The reporter nodded and turned to leave.
"Wait." Shen Yunmian suddenly called out.
Under the reporter's puzzled gaze, she lowered her eyes, her voice barely audible:
"…Send me a copy of the video."
After the reporter left, the restaurant fell back into silence.
Shen Yunmian sat there alone, the bustling night view outside the window contrasting her emptiness. She picked up the glass of wine that had long lost its taste and drained it in one gulp.
The bitterness spread from her tongue straight into her heart.
—
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