The domineering CEO falls in love with me

“Maybe I really should consider selling myself.” “What? Ziyuan, what did you just say? Don’t scare me like that!” Despite the noise around them, Yang Ziyuan’s low but clear words reached her friend Gu Yanran’s ears, startling her. “I’m serious. I’m carrying fifty million in debt. I don’t think even selling myself would cover it.” Ziyuan frowned deeply, venting her frustration. “Fifty million? My God! What happened? I know your dad was hospitalized after a car accident, but he has insurance, and your brother’s around too. You shouldn’t have to shoulder all the medical bills alone.” Yanran put down her chopsticks and looked at Ziyuan’s pale face. They were at a night market, their table piled with snacks—fried rice noodles, pan-fried buns, grilled sausages, fried chicken wings, and fish ball soup. Yanran was eating heartily, her cheeks flushed, but Ziyuan had barely touched her food. “It’s because the day Dad had the accident, I rushed to the hospital. Just after I got out of the taxi, my backpack was snatched. I chased the thief but couldn’t catch him. Inside were Mr. Cai’s film rolls.” Ziyuan twisted her fingers under the table. “He asked me to deliver them for development, and now…” Though still a college student, Ziyuan was passionate about photography and worked part-time as an assistant to freelance photographer Cai Yuanlun. It had taken her great effort to land the job. When she got the offer, she even treated Yanran to a celebratory meal. She never imagined something like this would happen. “Oh no, how could you be so careless? That rotten cabbage is the worst.” Yanran didn’t like Cai Yuanlun and privately called him “rotten cabbage.” “Yeah…” Ziyuan said dejectedly. “What kind of film was it? It can’t be worth fifty million, right?” “It was all the negatives for his upcoming exhibition.” “Oh no… that’s serious.” Yanran finally understood the gravity of the situation. Cai Yuanlun was a renowned landscape photographer in the Chinese community. This exhibition was the result of two years of work. If he sued Ziyuan for damages, even a hundred million wouldn’t be unreasonable—art’s value is hard to quantify. Ziyuan looked utterly defeated. As the saying goes, misfortunes never come alone. Her father had been laid off, got drunk from stress, and ended up in a car accident. Now she’d lost the precious negatives. “Trouble” didn’t even begin to cover it. “I’ve thought it over—selling myself is the only option.” Ziyuan pouted, her eyes stinging again. She was so unlucky, she hadn’t even gotten close to her dream before crashing into disaster. “i***t! Are you out of your mind?” Yanran knocked her on the head. “Go buy a mirror and look at yourself. Are you a stunning beauty? Got a seductive figure? You look like a clueless dork—who’d buy you?” “Hey!” Ziyuan glared at her. As if things weren’t bad enough, now she had to endure her friend’s sharp tongue. “If anyone’s selling themselves, it should be me.” Yanran stroked her oval face and posed. “Look—am I not a national treasure of beauty?” Yanran was indeed beautiful, with features resembling the popular actress Lin Chi-ling. She was proud of that. “You’re not seriously thinking of doing something stupid, are you?” Ziyuan grabbed her wrist in alarm. “My debt has nothing to do with you. Don’t do anything reckless.” Though Yanran often teased her, she was warmhearted and impulsive. Ziyuan knew she might actually do something drastic for a friend. “Relax, I’m not an idiot.” Yanran waved her hand. “I’m not really selling myself. I was just thinking of accepting that modeling agency’s offer. If I sign, I get an advance. It’s not much, but it could help a little.” “Yanran…” Ziyuan’s eyes welled up. “Don’t cry, dummy.” Yanran gave her another light smack. “We’re sisters, aren’t we? If I don’t have your back, who will?” “Yanran, can you not sound like a mafia boss?” Ziyuan wiped her tears, half laughing. “Heh, do I have that big-sister aura?” Yanran was clearly influenced by too many gangster movies. “Thanks for your kindness. If it really comes to it, I’ll ask for your help.” Ziyuan perked up, smiled, and clenched her fist. “There’s no problem in this world that can’t be solved. I’ll figure this out.” “You’re always like this—frowning one second, smiling the next.” Yanran admired her childhood friend. Though Ziyuan looked petite and delicate, she had a surprisingly strong will. “Yeah, because I still have dreams to chase.” Ziyuan smiled and pulled Yanran up. “Let’s go buy a stack of newspapers and see if there’s any job that pays big money fast.” “Where in the world would you find a job like that?” Yanran muttered, still paying for their meal. ※ ※ ※ As they walked down the street flipping through newspapers, Yanran suddenly pointed at a photo and shouted, “Ziyuan! Look at this picture!” “What?” Ziyuan leaned in under the streetlight. The photo showed a girl with short, curly hair and big, clear eyes like Bambi’s. “Huh? How could this be?” Ziyuan’s eyes widened. “She looks just like you—except for the hairstyle, she could be your twin!” Yanran read the ad beside the photo. “Seeking a female stand-in… compensation: fifty million? Ziyuan, this is literally money falling from the sky!” The girl in the photo was Ni Haitang, granddaughter of Changfeng Group’s chairman Ni Wanhsiung. She had died in a plane crash. The chairman, now gravely ill, adored her. The family kept her death a secret and sought a stand-in to comfort him in his final days. Ziyuan read the ad and stared at the photo in disbelief. “Yanran, do you really think people can look this alike?” “Sure. Who cares? Look at that reward!” Ni Wanhsiung, known as the “Asian Shipping King,” was worth billions. No wonder he’d offer such a huge sum. “Call them now! If someone else snatches this chance, it’s over. Fifty million—enough to clear your debt!” Yanran urged. “But… can I really do it?” Ziyuan hesitated. “What if I mess up and the old man finds out? Wouldn’t that hurt him more?” “Relax. Didn’t the ad say he’s seriously ill? Sick people get confused. If you look close enough, he’ll believe it.” Yanran wasn’t about to let this opportunity slip. Seeing Ziyuan still unsure, Yanran grabbed her phone and dialed. “Hello? Secretary Lin? I’m calling about the stand-in for Miss Ni Haitang…” Ziyuan listened to the call, her mind in chaos. The girl in the photo looked eerily like her—exactly like the face she saw in the mirror every day. Could there be some hidden connection between her and Ni Haitang? ※ ※ ※ Three days later, Ziyuan arrived at the hospital where Ni Wanhsiung was staying. She wore an elegant designer dress and matching shoes. Her long hair had been cut and curled into a stylish bob, making her delicate features even more refined—she looked like a proper young lady. The night they saw the ad, she and Yanran had been picked up by a private car and taken to Changfeng Group’s headquarters. Secretary Lin Qijun personally received them and quickly signed a contract with Ziyuan, paying half the reward upfront. Lin explained that Ni Wanhsiung was in the final stages of cancer and could pass away at any time. They didn’t have time to be picky—anyone with a 70–80% resemblance would do. Luckily, Ziyuan was practically a clone of Haitang. Ni Wanhsiung had lost both his children and only had Haitang left. If he lost her too, he’d have no will to live. Ziyuan felt a pang of sorrow. Despite his wealth, he was just a lonely old man now. “Mr. Ni always said Haitang was a cheerful girl. So when you see him, keep smiling—yes, that ladylike smile without showing teeth. Never look sad. He hates gloomy faces. He even said that when he dies, people should smile as they send him off.” Lin reminded her again and again. Ziyuan nodded and practiced the “ladylike smile” she’d trained for over the past three days. Outside the hospital room, Lin knocked. “You’re here,” said a middle-aged doctor in a white coat, lowering his voice. “He just woke up and was asking for Miss Haitang.” Lin took Ziyuan’s hand and led her in. “Mr. Ni, Miss Haitang is here.” “Grandpa,” Ziyuan said sweetly, lowering her head—and was shocked. The old man was frighteningly thin, his cheeks sunken, skin sallow and wrinkled like a walnut shell. Only his sharp, eagle-like eyes hinted at the formidable man he once was. Looking at him, and thinking of her own father lying in the same hospital, Ziyuan’s eyes stung. She quickly lowered her head. Whether rich or poor, illness was equally cruel.