He nodded, already seeing where this was headed.
“And you,” she said, gesturing at him, “want to pretend?”
“Yes.”
“…Why you?”
She exhaled sharply. “Because no offense, but you look harmless. And honestly—” she hesitated, embarrassed “—you’ve got good features. Clean you up, put decent clothes on you, and you’ll pass.”
He raised an eyebrow. “High praise.”
“Don’t get weird.”
“I wouldn’t dare.”
She hesitated again, chewing her lip.
“If you agree,” she said finally, “I’ll pay you. Ten thousand yuan per day.”
He didn’t answer right away.
Ten thousand a day.
The irony almost made him laugh.
“Deal,” he said.
Her eyes widened. “Really?”
“Yes.”
“Wow,” she muttered. “You’re… surprisingly agreeable.”
He smiled to himself.
If only you knew.
An hour later, steam fogged the bathroom mirror as water ran.
He stared at his reflection—really stared.
Under the grime and deliberate neglect, the man looking back didn’t resemble a beggar at all. Sharp jawline. Broad shoulders. Scars earned, not decorative. Eyes that had seen too much to ever be naïve again.
When he stepped out, towel slung low, she froze.
“Oh my god.”
He smirked. “Problem?”
“No. I mean—yes. No. I just didn’t expect…”
“Expectation is dangerous,” he said lightly.
She looked away fast. “Put clothes on. We’re late.”
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