I only submission to you

Licheng in the cold autumn, with frost and chilly dew.Especially at night. The minimalist design of the news center building stood tall in the dark night. The moonlight flowed down like bright white silk, reflecting a cold arc, with only the transparent square glass windows flickering with lights. In the makeup room. Jiang Nong had just finished her broadcast and was sitting in the makeup chair. She looked at her exquisitely made-up face in the wide mirror, her eyelashes slightly drooped. Her slender, pale fingers picked up a makeup removal wipe and carefully wiped off the heavy makeup on her skin, slowly revealing— The excessively clear and beautiful face hidden under the makeup. Like a white camellia bud about to bloom, the tender edges of the petals were wet and hazy from the dew, trembling with a touch of pale pink. At this moment, her intern assistant, Dongzhi, pushed the door open, his voice urgent: "Anchor Jiang..." Seeing him panting heavily, Jiang Nong's moist eyes trembled slightly, but her voice remained gentle, with a clear and soft quality: "Take your time." As she spoke, she got up and walked slowly to the bathroom. She casually tossed the used makeup removal wipe into the trash can, drawing a perfect arc under the light. "Tonight, you have the first midnight broadcast, and many netizens are watching. However—" At the station, Dongzhi was known as Jiang Nong's harbinger of good news. Now, though, what he had to say made his face turn red as he hesitantly followed her to complain: "Some colleagues heard Liu Taihua suggesting to the director that you shouldn't get too much screen time in post-production and should only appear as a voice." Amid the sound of running water, Jiang Nong caught a familiar name and asked in a puzzled tone: "Liu Siyou?" The mentioned person was the station's leading anchor, holding the golden slot for the evening news. Logically, a newcomer like Jiang Nong shouldn't have any conflict with Liu Siyou. However, since Jiang Nong was hired by the news station, her extreme beauty and heavenly voice quickly made her a sensation after going viral in a live "Morning News" broadcast, earning her the reputation of an otherworldly beauty untouched by the mundane world. Privately, everyone felt that she would eventually threaten Liu Siyou's position and become the station's pillar. But no one expected the newly appointed station director, Kang Yanshuo, to reassign positions, inexplicably moving Jiang Nong to the midnight slot. Dongzhi tilted his head slightly, seeing Jiang Nong's profile with her gently drooping eyelashes, her soft curves exceptionally clear as if she was seriously considering the matter. He seized the opportunity to advise: "Liu Taihua must be jealous of your good voice. She can't stand talented newcomers, so she's trying to suppress your limelight..." After all, in the broadcasting circle, it was well-known that Liu Taihua's voice was mediocre at best. It took her many years to finally become the leading anchor. Listening to her assistant's chatter, Jiang Nong slowly wiped the water droplets off her fingers with a tissue, her lips curving slightly into a faint smile: "Is that so." Seeing her seemingly unconcerned, Dongzhi paused for a few seconds. When he started his internship at the news station, he had high hopes for this renowned beauty anchor. But after working with her for a while, he realized that Jiang Nong was uncompetitive, almost as if she had no ambition, making him anxiously say: "Anchor Jiang! If you keep being so unconcerned, Liu Siyou will cut you off..." "Shh." Her soft words, like a wisp of ethereal sound, had a clear and tranquil quality. Dongzhi instinctively fell silent. Jiang Nong turned and walked to the makeup table outside, picking up her phone that had just chimed. The screen displayed the name [Ji Ruzhuo]. She gently swiped it open and saw a new message: [Address: 518 Shengxi Road, Cang Yue Auction House...] [Autumn brings blooming osmanthus, the night is fragrant, be careful of asthma when going out.] After a moment. Jiang Nong paused, looking out the window at the dark night like thick ink. Unconsciously, the ink lightened, and a touch of white appeared on the horizon. Dawn was breaking. At dawn, Jiang Nong took a taxi from the street, heading straight to the entrance of the old villa area where the auction house was located. Just as she was about to get out of the car, the strong scent of osmanthus flowers overwhelmed her senses. Her eyes instantly tinged with a faint blush. Instinctively, she retreated, her eyelashes trembling for a moment before she slowly opened her eyes. Through the car window, she first saw the ancient osmanthus tree with complex stems and veins near the rock garden, instantly understanding. Slightly turning her head, she saw an old plaque engraved with the words 'Cang Yue,' the originally bright red characters slightly weathered and peeling. Tiny orange-yellow osmanthus flowers scattered, seemingly falling inadvertently on the wooden eaves, exuding an antique charm. Half a minute later, Jiang Nong covered her mouth and nose with a white handkerchief and got out of the car again. With light footsteps, she walked up the steps. Before she could knock, the door of the villa opened from the inside. A receptionist in a cheongsam poked her head out. Seeing Jiang Nong, she bowed respectfully as if seeing a living Buddha: "Miss Jiang, Mr. Ji said you would arrive before the auction starts. He was spot on." "The auction starts in fifteen minutes." Jiang Nong put away the handkerchief and spoke precisely. Following her around the quiet corner of the hall and slowly up the stairs, she reminded again: "Take me to the changing room first." She was here because Ji Ruzhuo, the most famous antique appraiser in the industry, was tied up and had entrusted Jiang Nong to temporarily take his place and auction an antique. The receptionist led her to the changing room and handed her a prepared cheongsam: "Mr. Ji said you wouldn't be comfortable in the local cheongsams, so he specially chose this one for you." Jiang Nong accepted it, pulling the dark green velvet curtain closed. As she changed, letting her long dress slide down to her pale ankles, her soft voice drifted out: "The guest list?" The receptionist passed the guest list under the curtain and explained: "The auction item is a Qing dynasty mandarin duck pillow. Only a dozen people are attending, all distinguished guests of Cang Yue..." A moment later. The curtain was suddenly pulled aside by a slender, white hand, and Jiang Nong stepped out. She was wearing an elegant white satin cheongsam. The silky fabric clung to her slender figure, the intricate twining branch pattern on the slit at the waist accentuating her delicate waist. With each step, her slender legs were faintly visible, revealing a touch of snow-white skin, exuding a fragile beauty. The receptionist paused, carefully observing the news anchor. Indeed, this beautiful face was exceptionally photogenic. Beautiful like a pure painting, alluring to the bone, making one want to take another look. Jiang Nong quickly reviewed the auction catalog. Then, she scanned the guest list, her glowing finger gliding over it, stopping at the name Kang Yanshuo. The receptionist hesitated, asking: "Is there a problem?" Jiang Nong closed it, smiling gently: "No problem." Entering the auction hall. All the lights in the hall lit up simultaneously, dazzling. Jiang Nong approached the glass display case on the stage, her eyelashes lowered, glancing at the VIP seats. The invited guests... were all prominent figures in the elite circles. After a few seconds, she subtly withdrew her gaze. The guest list included the newly appointed director of Licheng News Station, who loved mingling in antique auction circles, Kang Yanshuo. —Director Kang. Was not present. Jiang Nong's red lips pressed slightly together, thinking that Ji Ruzhuo's information shouldn't be wrong. Suddenly, her eyes caught the time on the antique clock. She steadied herself, forcing down her puzzling thoughts, and began introducing the auction item in her clear voice. As the auction proceeded. Jiang Nong smiled at the audience and announced: "The starting bid is ten million." "Twenty-five million!" "Forty million!" "...Sixty million!" In the hall, the bidding quickly escalated. When someone bid sixty million, many collectors instantly stopped, focusing their gaze on the auction item—a Qing dynasty mandarin duck pillow, made of top-quality and rare white jade, completely translucent, with a smooth and fine glaze, making it highly valuable. Sixty million was the market price in the antique world, and any higher wouldn't be worth it. Jiang Nong repeated the sixty million bid and turned to the bidder number 089 in the front center: "Congratulations on winning the Qing dynasty mandarin duck pillow." The next second. As she was about to strike the gavel— "One hundred million." A faint, pleasant voice, as clear and cold as frost, echoed through the silent auction hall. And those two words seemed to strike Jiang Nong's heart, making her freeze, almost instinctively looking towards the sound. A man in a dignified suit appeared at the entrance, his elegant attire fitting perfectly, making him stand out in the crowd. Noticing her gaze, he suddenly raised his eyes. Jiang Nong was stunned. She was met with a pair of emotionless light-colored eyes, the warm-toned light failing to add any warmth, making them even more sharp and cold, like a piece of exquisitely beautiful white jade. The hall was silent for a few seconds until someone whispered: "The Fu family's heir is here." In the capital circles, everyone knew of the newly appointed head of the prestigious Fu family, who controlled the lifeline of the family business. He was low-key and rarely appeared, so mysterious that no gossip could be found. Whatever artifact he wanted to acquire, naturally, no one dared to contest. At this moment, everyone's attention shifted from the stage to the handsome man sitting in the dimly lit front row. Beside him, another distinguished guest, Chu Sui, narrowed his fox-like eyes and teased: "Usually, even devout worshippers can't get a glimpse of you, but you have time to come today?" Fu Qinghuai sat quietly, like a jade statue, slowly raising a teacup. His long, well-proportioned fingers were as pale as jade under the dim light, his voice unhurried: "I heard there are rare treasures at this auction, so naturally, I came to seek them." What rare treasures? That mandarin duck pillow? Chu Sui looked skeptical, his eyes following Fu Qinghuai's gaze to the stage, where the female host in a cheongsam looked as delicate and elegant as a white camellia in a glass bottle. In just a second, Fu Qinghuai looked away calmly. At this time, the person in charge of the Cang Yue auction approached, bowing respectfully: "Mr. Fu, please move to the private room. I will personally deliver the artifact." Fu Qinghuai placed his teacup on the table beside him, his dark lashes slightly lifting, indicating the stage: "No need to trouble yourself. Have her deliver it." After the auction ended, the attendees gradually left, and the lights dimmed by half. Jiang Nong found the receptionist and asked for the guest list again. Her long eyelashes lowered as she carefully scanned the list, trying to find his name. But there was no surname Fu. Her fingers tightened around the dark list, thinking of that fleeting face... They had once crossed paths by chance, but hadn't met again in all these years. He probably didn't recognize her anymore. "Miss Jiang." A gentle voice interrupted Jiang Nong's thoughts, and she turned to see the manager of Cang Yue, smiling politely: "Could I trouble you to deliver the mandarin duck pillow to the guest?" Jiang Nong's dark pupils looked at him in surprise, not expecting to be asked to deliver it herself as a temporary stand-in. The manager sighed silently, knowing her close relationship with Ji Ruzhuo, but—Fu Qinghuai had specifically named her. Even if they had to use a sedan chair, they had to get her there. Just as he was thinking of how to persuade her, Jiang Nong unexpectedly replied very softly: "Alright." In front of the private room on the third floor, the manager didn't enter, knowing the guest inside liked quiet. Instead, he opened the intricately carved wooden door and made a gesture of invitation. Jiang Nong walked lightly across the thick, soft carpet, past the screen, and saw a classical oil painting with cool, soft colors hanging on the wall. The gentle light fell, revealing a proud white peacock in the snowy mountain realm, its long, beautiful tail feathers cascading down, looking down on everything. Her gaze followed the tail feathers down. Finally landing on the luxurious black sofa. Clearly visible was Fu Qinghuai, sitting lazily, his crow-feather-like lashes half-closed, his handsome face like the first snow of winter. His sharply defined jawline was covered by a Buddhist scripture, giving him an air of serene calm. Jiang Nong thought he must be a reclusive figure. Such looks were rare in the world. If he appeared in public, it would surely cause a sensation. At this moment, the well-dressed secretary approached. She quickly lowered her lashes, gently handing over the signing document for the mandarin duck pillow. Unable to resist, she glanced towards the sofa again. Unexpectedly, she saw Fu Qinghuai's long hand already removing the Buddhist scripture from his face, lazily looking straight at her. "Mr. Fu." Her mind went blank for a moment. After a while, she found her voice: "Please sign here." Fu Qinghuai's gaze moved from her delicate profile, his slender fingers pressing against his brow to relieve his fatigue, then casually reached out to take the thin paper. Jiang Nong's voice was very light, as if afraid of disturbing him. Standing closer, she suddenly noticed a faint scent of incense mingling with the cold air, quickly and invasively occupying every trembling breath she took. Unexpectedly. Fu Qinghuai glanced at the signing document, then handed it back. Jiang Nong was slightly stunned, her clear eyes looking at him, puzzled. Her gaze suddenly froze. She saw a long wrist bone exposed from his slightly loosened white cuff, with clear veins on the back of his hand. The faint golden mysterious Buddhist pattern seemed to be imprinted on it, making his skin look coldly pale and unapproachable. The next moment. She heard the man's clear, slightly hoarse voice, only saying one word: "Read."