The evening had stretched on far longer than Yuxi expected.
Her temples throbbed from the constant need to stay alert, and her stomach was tight with unease. The business party, though filled with elegance and wealth, felt like nothing more than a battlefield. Every conversation was a hidden war, every smile a veiled threat.
She had just finished speaking with another executive when she finally reached for the glass of champagne she had set aside earlier. The bubbles fizzed enticingly, and the coldness of the drink offered a brief respite from the suffocating heat of the room.
She took a sip.
The taste was normal—light and crisp, with a faint hint of citrus.
But minutes later, something felt off.
Yuxi's vision blurred at the edges, and a wave of dizziness washed over her.
Her breath hitched.
Something wasn't right.
She reached for the nearest table, gripping it tightly to keep herself upright. The room seemed to sway slightly, the distant murmur of voices growing distorted.
Her fingers felt numb, and an unsettling warmth spread through her body.
Panic crept into her chest.
Her gaze darted around the room, searching for someone—anyone—who could help. But instead of friendly faces, she found something far more terrifying.
A group of men stood a few feet away, watching her far too intently.
One of them—a man in his late forties with sharp eyes and an air of entitlement—nudged the man beside him, smirking.
"She looks like she's had too much," he murmured, his voice dripping with amusement.
"Good," another responded with a chuckle. "Makes things easier."
Yuxi's stomach twisted in disgust.
She tried to take a step back, but her legs felt like lead. The dizziness intensified, making it nearly impossible to focus.
Through her hazy vision, she caught sight of Zhao Liying and Meng Yiran standing by the bar.
Watching.
Smiling.
They planned this.
Rage simmered beneath Yuxi's panic, but she had no time to dwell on it.
The man with the sharp eyes approached her. "Miss Jiang, you don't look well," he said smoothly, reaching out as if to steady her. "Why don't we take you somewhere quieter?"
His fingers brushed against her wrist.
Yuxi recoiled, but her reaction was sluggish.
Another man laughed. "No need to be shy, Miss Jiang. We're all colleagues here. We only want to help."
Help?
No.
They wanted to take advantage of her.
Yuxi tried to summon her strength, but her limbs refused to cooperate. The drug—whatever it was—was fast-acting.
She had to get out of there.
Before she could take another step back, the first man grabbed her arm.
The grip wasn't painful, but it was possessive.
She was trapped.
Fear coiled around her throat, suffocating.
This was bad. This was very bad.
Her heart pounded as she forced herself to think. She had to act. She had to fight.
"Let go of me," she demanded, but her voice was weaker than she wanted it to be.
The man only chuckled. "Come now, no need to be so tense. We're simply looking out for you. These events can be overwhelming for someone… inexperienced."
His hand slid lower, attempting to guide her toward the exit.
Yuxi refused to go without a fight.
Summoning the last of her strength, she wrenched her arm away.
"Don't touch me," she hissed, stumbling slightly but managing to stay upright.
Her resistance only seemed to amuse them.
"Feisty," one murmured. "I like that."
Panic clawed at her chest.
She needed to escape.
But just as one of the men reached for her again—
A cold, lethal voice sliced through the air like a knife.
"Take your hands off her."
Everything froze.
The once-playful amusement in the men's eyes vanished. Their grips loosened instinctively, and their postures stiffened.
Yuxi turned her head, her vision swimming, but she knew that voice.
Gu Zeyan stood at the edge of the crowd, his suit pristine, his stance dangerous.
His dark eyes were unreadable, but there was a quiet rage simmering beneath them. A storm waiting to devastate.
The room shifted.
The men who had dared to touch her were no longer predators.
They were prey.
"President Gu," the first man greeted hesitantly, forcing a polite smile. "We were just assisting Miss Jiang. She didn't seem well, so we thought—"
Gu Zeyan took a single step forward.
The air turned suffocating.
"Did I ask for your explanation?" His voice was calm. Too calm.
The man swallowed thickly. "Of course not, President Gu, I—"
"Then leave," Gu Zeyan ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.
The men hesitated.
Gu Zeyan's gaze darkened. "Before I make you."
That was all it took.
Muttering excuses, the group scattered, vanishing into the crowd like cockroaches fleeing the light.
Yuxi's body swayed. The adrenaline keeping her upright was quickly fading.
Gu Zeyan moved before she could collapse.
His arms were solid as they wrapped around her, holding her against him.
Yuxi barely registered the warmth of his embrace, her head too foggy to process anything except the undeniable safety in his presence.
"Yuxi." His voice was quiet, but there was something raw underneath.
She forced her eyes open. "…I was drugged," she murmured weakly.
His jaw clenched.
Of course, he already knew.
He had arrived too quickly and acted too precisely.
Gu Zeyan had been watching her all along.
The realization settled in her hazy mind, but before she could dwell on it, exhaustion finally took over.
Her body went limp in his arms.
Gu Zeyan caught her effortlessly, his grip possessive. Protective.
His eyes lifted, locking onto Zhao Liying and Meng Yiran.
For the first time that night, their amusement was gone.
They had won many battles against Jiang Yuxi.
But this?
This was a mistake.
Gu Zeyan's gaze was cold. Deadly.
Whoever had dared to harm her tonight would soon learn—
Jiang Yuxi belonged to him.