A Year of Purity, A Lifetime of Debt

The rain fell steadily on the empty streets of the city, blurring the lights as Bạch Thiên Lam stood silently in front of the towering Lục Thị building. Her fingers trembled slightly as she clutched a simple leather folder, the one that held her fate for the next 365 days. She was just twenty, a university student with a bright future—until the debts of her family came crashing down like a storm she couldn’t outrun. Her mother was sick, her little brother in school, and her father… gone. The offer came like a lifeline. One year. One man. No intimacy. Only companionship. And one rule: Stay pure. “Miss Bạch, President Lục is waiting,” the secretary’s voice pulled her back from her thoughts. She took a deep breath and stepped inside the elevator, her reflection in the mirrored walls looking nothing like the girl she used to be. The doors opened on the top floor. Inside, behind the black marble desk, was Lục Phong Dương. Sharp eyes. Cold aura. Impossibly handsome. He looked up and said nothing, only pointed to the chair. She sat. “This contract,” he began, his voice low, “is not about love. It’s about time.” “365 days. No feelings. No s*x. Just presence.” “If you agree… sign” A moment later in the luxury BW3 The soft hum of rain echoed outside the car windows, a gentle rhythm that contradicted the storm inside Bạch Thiên Lam’s heart. Her pale fingers clutched the thin strap of her handbag, knuckles turning white. The scent of expensive leather and faint cologne from the luxury car made her feel out of place, as if she didn’t belong. “Are you nervous?” The voice was low, almost lazy, but there was a trace of amusement hidden beneath. Bạch Thiên Lam turned her head slightly. The man beside her—Lục Phong Dương—was looking ahead, one hand casually resting on the steering wheel, the other tucked in his pocket. Under the dim light, his features were striking: dark hair, calm brown eyes, and a small smirk that played on his lips. “I’m not afraid,” she replied quietly. He chuckled. “I didn’t ask if you were afraid. I asked if you were nervous.” Her eyes flickered down. “Maybe a little.” This man… he wasn’t just rich. He was dangerous in a subtle way—calm, composed, and always one step ahead. A year with him. That was the deal. One year to pay her father’s debts. One year of pretending to be the fiancée of a man she barely knew. The car slowed to a stop in front of an enormous mansion bathed in warm golden light. Bạch Thiên Lam stared at the towering iron gates, then the wide driveway, and finally the door that was about to change everything. Lục Phong Dương stepped out first, his black suit perfect even in the rain. He didn’t open her door—he waited. She took a deep breath, opened it herself, and stepped into a world she wasn’t ready for. “You’ll get used to it,” he said, as if reading her thoughts. “Being mine.” The night deepened. The ticking of the vintage clock in the hallway grew louder in the silence, matching the irregular rhythm of Thiên Lam’s heartbeat. She sat on the edge of the sofa, her slender fingers twisting the hem of her dress. Suddenly, the door creaked. A young woman stepped inside—petite, dressed in a neat uniform, her eyes wide in mild surprise when she saw Thiên Lam. “You must be Miss Bạch,” she said softly. “I’m Linh. Housekeeper.” Her voice carried no judgment, only calm professionalism. Thiên Lam offered a faint nod. Linh didn’t pry. Instead, she quietly placed a cup of warm milk on the table. “It helps with sleep.” The kindness felt foreign. Thiên Lam blinked rapidly, swallowing the lump in her throat. “Thank you,” she murmured. Silence fell again, save for the low hum of the city outside the high-rise windows. “Did he… say when he’d return?” Thiên Lam asked, almost in a whisper. Linh paused, then shook her head gently. “Mr. Lục doesn’t share his schedule.” Of course, he doesn’t. As the hours passed, Thiên Lam lay curled up on the large leather sofa, too tense to sleep, yet too tired to stay fully awake. The unfamiliar ceiling loomed above her. Every corner of the room whispered wealth—cold, distant wealth that made her feel even smaller. At some point in the night, rain began to fall. It tapped softly on the glass like fingers trying to wake her from a dream she didn’t choose. She dreamt of her little brother’s smile. Of her mother’s worn-out hands. Of the moment she signed the contract, sealing away a piece of herself. She woke with a start. The sky outside was no longer black, but a dull gray-blue—the kind of color that bleeds in just before dawn. She sat up, disoriented. Her body ached from the awkward sleeping position, but her mind felt strangely calm. Footsteps echoed down the hallway. She turned her head. And there he was. Lục Phong Dương. In the soft morning light, his figure looked almost unreal—tall, impeccably dressed, with eyes that seemed to see through everything. He paused at the entrance of the living room, his gaze unreadable. “You’re awake,” he said, voice low and smooth. Thiên Lam stood slowly, unsure of what to say. Her heart raced. “I didn’t expect you to stay in the living room,” he added. “I didn’t… know where else I was allowed,” she replied honestly. There was a beat of silence. Then, unexpectedly, his expression softened just a little. “You’ll have your own room starting today. Linh will take care of everything.” Thiên Lam nodded, unsure how to interpret his kindness. Or was it just politeness? As he turned to leave, he paused. Without looking back, he said, “Eat something. I don’t want you fainting.” And then he disappeared down the hall. She stood there, motionless, trying to memorize the weight of that one sentence—as if it meant something more than concern for her health. Maybe it did. Maybe it didn’t. But for now, it was the only warmth she had.