“The President's Surrogacy”.

3

When she returned home, it was already midnight. Zi Xin carefully stepped into the Xia family's villa, softly opening the door and tiptoeing across the grand hall like a thief.

Suddenly, the lamp by the sofa flickered on.

The unexpected light startled her. Clutching her chest in fright, she turned toward the figure seated on the sofa. With a trembling voice, she softly uttered, "Daddy..."

Xia Rongsheng, with a stern expression, sat upright, his hands gripping the armrests of the sofa. A pipe dangled from the corner of his mouth as he exhaled a puff of smoke. In a tone that was both reprimanding and heavy, he said, "Why are you coming home so late? You've been behaving more and more recklessly. You didn’t even attend your sister's wedding banquet today."

"Daddy, there was an incident at school today," Zi Xin replied nervously, clutching the strap of her bag tightly. She had lied, and whenever she did, her fingers instinctively sought something to hold. Silently, she apologized in her heart: Daddy, I'm sorry. I promised my sister I wouldn’t say anything.

Smack!

A wrinkled hand struck the armrest of the sofa forcefully, and Xia Rongsheng's expression darkened instantly. "What could possibly be more important than your sister’s wedding? Why can’t you learn from her?" His voice grew louder, filled with indignation. Yet deep down, guilt gnawed at him—he couldn’t believe he had stooped so low as to trade his daughter’s happiness for personal gain. The thought tightened his chest painfully, and he clutched at it, gasping for breath.

Aware of her father's heart condition, Zi Xin panicked. Dropping her bag, she rushed to support him, her voice filled with guilt and concern. "Daddy, I was wrong. Please don’t get upset. Your heart can’t take it."

She quickly retrieved his medication and helped him take it, all the while soothing him.

The pain subsided, leaving Xia Rongsheng weakened. Leaning back against the sofa, he gently patted Zi Xin's head and clasped her hands tightly. "All I want is to pass down your grandfather’s legacy to you and your sister. You must learn from Ya Qing—she is the future of the Xia family. You two are all I have." Despite not having a son, Xia Rongsheng deeply loved his daughters and wished only for their happiness.

Back in her room, sitting on the bed, Zi Xin's thoughts began to whirl. Her father still believed she was majoring in hotel management at the University of Hong Kong, unaware that she had secretly switched to language and literature—something she had never dared to confess. This only solidified her understanding: the future of the Xia family rested with her sister.

Her body trembled as memories of that night surfaced, accompanied by an unsettling ache. She touched her abdomen, whispering to herself, "Am I a thief?" Guilt and anxiety overwhelmed her, making her feel like a criminal.

Sleep eluded her that night. Instead, inspiration struck, and she darted to her computer. Her fingers danced across the keyboard, crafting a scene:

In the dark room, she stretched out her hands, fumbling for direction. Suddenly, strong arms enveloped her, and warm lips, carrying a faint scent of wine, claimed hers with a mix of dominance and tenderness, capturing every trace of sweetness…

Her fingers paused on the keys. Gently touching her lips, she seemed to feel that lingering hint of wine, that forceful yet gentle passion. It was the kiss of Luo Yiwei, a man adored by countless women.

"Zi Xin! Zi Xin!"

A voice pulled her from her trance. Chen Xiaolu, who sat behind her in class, was tapping her shoulder anxiously.

Dazed, Zi Xin looked around. "Class is over?" She grabbed her bag and stood, only to realize—to her dismay—that class was still in session.

"Miss Xia, please answer the question," said the teacher, a man with thick-framed glasses and a patient smile.

"What is…?" Zi Xin had no clue what the question was. She held up her book to hide her face and mouthed to Chen Xiaolu, "What’s the question?"

Chen Xiaolu whispered back: Film literature.

Completely misunderstanding, Zi Xin confidently began, "When discussing visionary literature, one cannot ignore the towering figure of Tolstoy. His works—"

Thud!

Chen Xiaolu slumped over her desk in defeat. I said film literature, not visionary literature!

"Miss Xia Zi Xin!" The teacher’s face turned green with exasperation, veins bulging as he roared her name.

Just then, the bell rang, sparing her from further humiliation. Grinning sheepishly, she grabbed her bag. "Goodbye, teacher!" she chirped, disappearing in a flash, leaving the teacher fuming, muttering, "You’ll never pass this course!"

Bursting into laughter, Chen Xiaolu clutched her stomach.

"Hey, Chen Xiaolu! Do you want to get smacked?" Zi Xin scolded, hands on her hips.

"Alright, alright, I’ll stop," Chen Xiaolu said, stifling her laughter and patting Zi Xin’s shoulder. "But seriously, what’s up with you lately? You look so worn out. Have you been sneaking around at night?"

Zi Xin sighed. "Just insomnia," she replied helplessly. The memories of that night haunted her, disrupting her sleep.

Before she could elaborate, Chen Xiaolu let out an excited gasp. "Oh my god, Zi Xin, look!"

She grabbed Zi Xin’s arm and dragged her to the basketball court, pointing at a tall, athletic figure. "Who is that gorgeous guy? How have we never noticed him before?"

Zi Xin followed her gaze.

The man’s tousled hair danced in the breeze, exuding an irresistible charm. His chiseled features and flawless physique radiated confidence and vitality, even in a simple casual outfit. With fluid movements, he dribbled the ball, evaded defenders with flawless feints, and leaped gracefully to dunk the ball into the hoop. A collective gasp and squeals erupted from the surrounding girls.

Amid the cheers, he raised his hand in a victorious gesture and flashed a dazzling smile. His gaze, however, landed on Zi Xin, who stood quietly in the corner, unaffected by the excitement.

Zi Xin’s delicate features were framed by her silky bangs, which partially obscured a red birthmark on her left cheek. To those who didn’t know her, she looked like a true beauty.

Their eyes met briefly. He smiled. Zi Xin, however, avoided his gaze and walked away.

She didn’t notice the basketball hurtling toward her until it was too late.

Before she could react, a strong arm pulled her into an embrace.

"What are you doing?" she protested, startled. Then she realized it was him—the basketball player. In one swift motion, he caught the incoming ball.

"Be careful when walking across the court," he said in broken Mandarin, his smile gentle.

Realizing he had just saved her, Zi Xin swallowed her retort. She quickly pushed him away and tried to leave, but he grabbed her arm.

"Go on a date with me," he said casually, his tone playful.

Zi Xin forced a smile and brushed her bangs aside, revealing the birthmark on her cheek. "Still interested?" she asked softly before walking away, leaving him momentarily stunned.

As the school day ended, a sleek black Pagani roared into view, drawing everyone's attention.

The car’s driver, exuding an air of sophistication and mystery, removed his sunglasses and stepped out. Luo Yiwei strode toward Zi Xin with a confident smile.

"Zi Xin," he called out.