I'm sorry, but your fiancé loves me.

Qin Qihan knew that she was different from others.

Qin Qihan was truly cold-hearted and devoid of emotion. She always believed that this was who she was, that she would marry a suitable person, build a suitable family, and live out her life in a suitable way.

He had no problem with the word "suitable" because "suitable" was already good to him—safer and more stable than anything that caused him intense emotions.

When Yun Muqian first appeared in his office, he was looking down at a report.

The HR staff led her in and said, "President Qin, this is our newly hired secretary, Yun Muqian."

He looked up and glanced at it.

She stood there, dressed in a proper business suit, her hair tied up neither too high nor too low, with an appropriate and polite smile on her face, and extended her hand to say, "Hello, Mr. Qin, please take care of me in the future."

I actually dared to shake hands with him on our first meeting.

He shook her hand briefly, his fingertips touching her palm, which was warm and dry. He held her hand for about two seconds before letting go.

After she left, he continued looking at the reports, without retaining any particular impression in his mind.

Later, she started appearing in front of him repeatedly.

Once, when she came to deliver a report, she suddenly mentioned that his collar was a little messy. She reached out and straightened his collar for him, her soft skin gently brushing against his chin, and a faint scent of perfume enveloped him. She left immediately.

He opened the report, but stopped after flipping through a couple of pages. A thought suddenly popped into his head—this woman is quite bold.

Yun Muqian came to the office many times, ostensibly to report on her work, but each time she brought so few documents that there was no need for her to make a special trip; an email would have sufficed. Yet, she insisted on delivering them in person.

Qin Qihan was fully aware of this, but never exposed it.

He sat behind his desk watching her push the door open and come in. Then he casually sat down in the chair opposite her, placed his hands on his knees, and began to speak in a tone that suggested, "I just happened to be passing by and thought I'd chat with you for a bit."

She talked about all sorts of things.

Sometimes we really have work to discuss, and sometimes we're just chatting.

"Mr. Qin, you don't look too well today."

"Mr. Qin, what did you have for lunch?"

"Mr. Qin, it's time to water that pothos plant in your office."

As she spoke, her gaze fell openly on his face, with a natural confidence, as if she was born to sit there and talk nonsense to him.

Qin Qihan knew she was bold.

He noticed it from the very first time they met when she dared to reach out and shake his hand. But he never expected her to be this bold.

She dared to lean over and point to a line while he was looking at documents, saying, "You wrote this wrong." She even dared to block the elevator entrance after get off work and ask him, "Mr. Qin, do you have any plans for tonight?"

Once, he attended meetings for an entire day, from nine in the morning to six in the afternoon, four sessions in a row, and his veins were throbbing in his temples.

He returned to his office, sat down in a chair, closed his eyes for a while, his brows furrowed, and pressed his fingertips against his left temple, rubbing it vigorously twice.

Migraines are a chronic problem, I've had them since high school. They don't flare up too badly, but they can last a long time.

He heard two knocks on the door. When he said "Come in," his voice was lower than usual, with a hint of weariness that he himself didn't even notice.

Yun Muqian pushed open the door and came in, carrying a glass of warm water.

She saw him leaning back in his chair and pressing his temples, so she immediately went to buy him painkillers. After that, she always carried painkillers with her. Suddenly, he found that his migraines seemed to have stopped hurting.

Or perhaps he's still in pain, but he's not paying attention to it anymore.

Then things slowly started to go wrong.

He found himself looking forward to her coming to his office. Every time she knocked and came in, he would look up at her, noticing what color she was wearing and whether her hair was tied up or down.

He noticed that she walked very softly, but the rhythm of her high heels tapping on the floor tiles was steady.

He wouldn't have paid attention to these things before.

But he remembered everything about her, storing it in his mind one by one, and began to find it amusing.

He found Yun Muqian interesting. She was top-notch in her work, never ambiguous when it came to professionalism, had the data memorized perfectly, and her reports were logically flawless.

But at the same time, she possessed a vitality he had never encountered before, blooming when it was time to bloom, and never feeling shy in front of him.

He had never known what it felt like to be "overrun," and he never imagined that one day he would walk into the water himself.

The person who made him walk down didn't even pull him up; she just stood by the water and smiled, and he started walking on his own.

What happened next was perfectly logical; he offered no further resistance.

In the beginning, Yun Muqian was incredibly well-behaved.

She showed up at the office on time every day, giving reports and delivering documents as needed. The two maintained a just-right distance between them, neither too close nor too far. Occasionally, when he had a migraine, she would take out the bottle of painkillers from her pocket, pour one into her palm, and hand it to him.

The two of them will only have other plans after the work is finished.

Qin Qihan was initially satisfied. He liked this kind of relationship that was measured and clean.

He had never imagined that she would be wronged. Yun Muqian was too vibrant and bright. But one time when Zhou Xue came to see him, after she left, he felt that Yun Muqian seemed a little unhappy.

Of course, it's also possible that he was just being delusional, because Yun Muqian isn't someone who easily shows her emotions.

But after Zhou Xue left that day, he did feel that Yun Muqian was acting a little unnatural.

Qin Qihan sat behind his desk, the computer screen in front of him already locked, the darkened screen reflecting his own blurry outline. He twirled a pen in his hand, spinning it about a dozen times before stopping.

"Have Yun Muqian come to my office."

There was a knock on the door, and Yun Muqian pushed it open and walked in. She was not carrying any documents and stood in front of the desk with her hands empty, her eyes showing a hint of confusion.

"Mr. Qin, you called me again?"

Qin Qihan looked at her, "Come here."

Yun Muqian walked around the desk and stood next to him. He turned slightly to the side, then reached out and grasped her wrist.

Yun Muqian's body leaned forward slightly with the force. He didn't give her much time to think. He put his other hand around her waist, placed his palm on her lower back, and gently pulled her down. She sat down on his lap with the force.

"Are you unhappy?" he asked.

Yun Muqian blinked. "I'm not unhappy."

"You can be unhappy," he said. "You can ask me for money, and I'll compensate you."

Actually, they had very strict rules from the beginning. He gave her money, and she was only responsible for being obedient and not disturbing his family and life, because Qin Qihan hated trouble. He said he would also give her some freedom.

But he soon discovered that rules are rigid, but people are flexible. And he was the one who started breaking the rules.

He worked late that night, and it was past eleven when he came out of the conference room. Standing in the empty corridor, he loosened his tie, took out his phone, opened Yun Muqian's chat window, and typed a message:

I'll come over tonight.

After sending the message, he waited two minutes and received a reply: "Mr. Qin, I'm not feeling well today, please don't come over."

Qin Qihan looked at the message and replied, "I'll be there in half an hour."

After sending the message, he didn't wait for a reply. He put his phone in his coat pocket and headed for the elevator.

He arrived at her doorstep and called her. Her voice was sleepy: "...Mr. Qin?"

"Open the door."

There was a two-second silence on the other end, then the door lock clicked open.

He pushed the door open and went in. "Are you feeling unwell?"

"I feel fine."

Qin Qihan had always been a heartless person who wouldn't allow anyone to disobey him. The more she said she didn't want to see him, the more he insisted on seeing him.

"Mr. Qin," her voice muffled from his chest after their lovemaking, "you have a fiancée, and you said you wouldn't let me interfere with your life. Don't you think you're breaking the rules now?"

"I set the rules," he said in a low voice, "and now I want to change them."

Then, once the change was made, it became unstoppable.

Qin Qihan realized he had become a different person. This realization didn't come suddenly, but when he faced it head-on, it still surprised him.

The first thing he does every morning when he wakes up is to reach for his phone to see if she has sent him a message.

Even if she only sends a single word like "Good morning," he can stare at that word for two seconds, the corners of his mouth unconsciously curving into a smile, before replying.

He would drift off during meetings, her image suddenly flashing through his mind. When shopping at the supermarket, he would unconsciously linger a little longer in the snack aisle because she liked a certain brand of sea salt biscuits, which he had seen once at her shop and remembered.

He started going to her place frequently. He would go after get off work, on weekends, and sometimes he would just take a detour, sit for half an hour, and then leave.

At first, she would ask, "Aren't you busy?", but she stopped saying it later because he wouldn't leave even when she asked.

He would sit next to her and deal with emails while she curled up on the sofa reading; he would lean against the kitchen door frame and watch her cook; and he would take the tea she handed him when she made tea.

Once, when she was sick and had a fever, he canceled an important dinner party to take care of her.

So love is a person's instinct.

He still believed himself to be an empty shell without feelings.

She huddled in bed, wrapped in the blanket, her cheeks flushed. Watching him sit by the bed changing the damp towel on her forehead, she said in a hoarse voice, "You don't need to do that. I can lie down by myself."

He glanced at her, re-soaked the towel in cold water, wrung it out, folded it neatly, and placed it on her forehead, saying:

"Lie down and don't speak."

She looked at him and did not refuse again.

He could even say that he really enjoyed taking care of her, and liked sitting by the bed holding her hand, even though her palms were burning hot and her pulse was pounding rapidly and erratically.

He held her burning hot hand, and that unfamiliar feeling, which he was experiencing more and more frequently, welled up in his heart again—a dense, bittersweet tenderness, as if something deep in his chest was being constantly kneaded.

Later he learned that this feeling was called heartache.

He sat there, watching her close her eyes and her breathing gradually become steady. Suddenly, a thought popped into his mind: he didn't want her to lie there alone, he didn't want her to be alone when she was feeling unwell.

If she gets sick in the future, he wants to stay by her side the whole time, because she can't take care of herself.

He wasn't surprised when the thought popped into his head. He just looked down at her, at her burning hot hand that he held in his, and thought, "This is it."

He actually cared about her far more than he realized.

That night, he sat by her bedside until late at night, only leaving after her fever subsided.

He closed the door gently as he left, stood in the corridor leaning against the wall for a while, took out his phone and glanced at the date—less than four months until his wedding date with Zhou Xue.

Looking at the date, what came to his mind wasn't "It's time to prepare for the wedding," but rather "I don't want to get married."

He was stunned for a moment when the thought came to him.

According to his parents, his engagement to Zhou Xue was arranged when they were young. The two families started arranging for the two of them to be together when he was seven years old, and he never questioned it.

He always felt that marrying Zhou Xue was a "suitable" thing to do.

The two families were well-matched, both sets of parents were satisfied, and Zhou Xue herself had feelings for him. He didn't need to put in too much extra effort to cultivate the relationship.

Even though he found Zhou Xue annoying, he knew from the beginning that he was going to marry her. This understanding had been deeply ingrained in his mind for many years and had never wavered.

But now another thought has emerged.

He suddenly felt that the word "suitable" had become meaningless.

Zhou Xue was a good fit, the Zhou family background was a good fit, the cooperation between the two families was a good fit, and everything was arranged neatly. But when he sat by Yun Muqian's bedside and held her hand, he felt that he didn't want to leave.

He found himself becoming increasingly anxious and insecure.

He had never felt this way before. He never hesitated or wavered when doing things. Once he made a decision, he did it and took responsibility for the consequences.

But soon, if she wasn't around, he would sit in his office staring at his phone screen waiting for her to reply. If she didn't reply for more than an hour, he would start to wonder if she was busy or if she hadn't seen his message.

He would send her a message saying "What are you doing?" and then stare at that message for several minutes.

He had never been in a relationship before, so he didn't understand that this was a normal reaction. He even thought that his nervousness was a sign of illness. But later he realized that it was because he liked someone so much that he was acting this way.

He also began to care about the way she looked at him. He never used to care about how others saw him, whether they thought he was cold or hot.

But now he's starting to care about her thoughts. He even wonders if, in Yun Muqian's eyes, he's just a bastard who only knows how to cheat.

But that's not the truth.

Before meeting her, he didn't understand what true love meant.

He asked Yun Muqian what kind of person he was in her eyes.

She smiled and said, "Of course she's a good person!" But he didn't feel at ease. The longer it went on, the more he felt that she wasn't sincere. He was the one who initially drew a line between them, but now he was afraid of being abandoned by her.

Later, he felt even more sorry for her, sorry that she was left without a name or status by his side. Even though he had provided her with a life of luxury and had accepted that she was taking advantage of him every day, he still felt indebted.

Sometimes he even felt that if Yun Muqian were with a normal person who wasn't engaged, she would probably be much happier than she is now.

But the thought of her wearing a white wedding dress and marrying someone else one day makes him extremely sad. He can't accept that she will be with someone else, and he can't accept that she will be nice to someone else.

He couldn't accept that her soft, warm body couldn't bear another man's child.

He knew very well that Yun Muqian was such a good person that anyone would be happy with her, but if he left her, he would never be happy again.

He never allowed himself to have any lowly thoughts, but since falling in love with her, he found himself belittling and despising himself every moment.

Later, his guilt gradually transformed into unwavering love, and he resolved to give her a proper status.

Because the right thing doesn't need to be suitable; it just needs to be itself.

Even if the relationship is wrong, he is determined to continue down that wrong path.

never look back.