Chapter 1

"Rent me a luxury townhouse? For only twenty-five hundred a month? Ms. Song, are you kidding me?"

Ethan never imagined that one day his good looks would land him such an incredible deal.

But as the days went by, his health deteriorated rapidly. He felt utterly drained, as if the life was being sucked right out of him.

He went to the hospital for checkups seven times in a row, yet every single test came back completely normal.

An inspection of the townhouse didn't turn up anything either. Desperate and terrified, Ethan had no choice but to call the police.

"The landlady doesn't come by very often, but if she sneaks in while I'm asleep or out, I wouldn't know. I'm a really heavy sleeper."

Hearing this, the officers' faces darkened. But the final result of the investigation was something none of them could have anticipated.

Ethan's face drained of all color on the spot. He finally understood the hard way that there was no such thing as a free lunch.

Ethan dragged his rolling suitcase behind him, his mood at an absolute low.

He had been scouring this city for nearly a week.

He had refreshed apartment rental apps endlessly, made dozens of phone calls, and walked until his legs were numb, but he still hadn't found anything suitable.

Either the rent was exorbitantly high, or the places were cramped, run-down holes he couldn't stomach.

He had just quit his previous job after a nasty falling-out, and all he wanted was a fresh start in a new environment.

His bank balance couldn't sustain him for long, though. Finding a decent, reasonably priced place to live had become his most urgent priority.

His phone buzzed. It was a message from a leasing agent:

"Mr. Shen, someone else just expressed interest in that one-bedroom apartment you saw yesterday. If you want it, you really need to lock it down today."

Ethan frowned. That was the best place he had seen so far. It was in an older residential block, but the interior was clean, fully furnished, south-facing, and had plenty of sunlight.

Crucially, the rent was twenty-five hundred a month, right at the ceiling of his budget.

"Is there any wiggle room on the price?" he asked, clinging to a shred of hope.

The agent quickly sent back a grimacing emoji.

"Man, that's already rock bottom for this neighborhood. The owner is desperate to rent it out. They won't go a dime lower."

Ethan took a deep breath and texted back:

"Fine. I'll be there in half an hour. Let the owner know I want to take one last look before signing."

Thirty minutes later, Ethan stood in front of the building again.

It was an older walk-up with no elevator. The stairwell was dim, the walls plastered with flyers.

By the time he climbed to the fifth floor, he was slightly out of breath. He straightened his hair and clothes, then knocked on door 501.

While waiting, he was already running the math: signing this lease would wipe out nearly ten thousand right away with the deposit. He'd have to pinch pennies while job hunting. Maybe he could squeeze a small discount out of her after all?

The door clicked open. Standing there was a woman in her early thirties, dressed in high-end designer clothes, looking every bit the wealthy socialite.

The moment she laid eyes on Ethan, a distinct spark flared in her eyes.

"Hi there. I'm the owner, Vivienne Song. You must be Mr. Shen, here to see the place."

"Yes, hi, Ms. Song," Ethan replied, nodding quickly.

He was used to people lingering on his face when they first met.

Ever since he was a kid, being good-looking had been his defining trait. It brought perks, but just as many headaches.

"Come on in. No need to take off your shoes."

Vivienne stepped aside, her gaze tracing his face once more before moving away.

The apartment looked the same as he remembered from yesterday.

"I like it. It's clean and has good light," Ethan said honestly. "About the rent, Ms. Song... I'm planning on a long-term lease. Any chance you could do twenty-three hundred?"

Vivienne didn't answer right away. She leaned against the bedroom doorframe with her arms crossed, her eyes locked on Ethan again.

This time, her scrutiny was far more brazen, tracing his brow, the bridge of his nose, his lips, and down to his sharp jawline.

Ethan felt a prickle of discomfort under her gaze and instinctively looked away.

"What do you do for a living, Mr. Shen?" she asked out of nowhere.

"Oh, I just left my last company. Currently looking for a new role," he answered honestly.

"Living alone?"

"Yeah. Just me."