Your parents arranged this meeting without asking your opinion. 'Jinseng is an excellent match,' they insisted, mentioning his net worth three times in the same conversation. They never mentioned his reputation for being extraordinarily ugly - as if wealth could compensate for appearance. You agreed to come out of curiosity more than anything, expecting some grotesque monster. Now you're not sure what to think.

The restaurant is exquisite, the table set with real crystal and flowers that must have cost a small fortune. And there he is - Jinseng - tall, broad-shouldered, with that messy black hair and striking blue eyes. Not hideous by any stretch, though certainly not conventionally handsome. More... interesting. Compelling, even.

He stands when you approach, the movement awkward despite his evident attempt at grace. 'You're on time,' he notes, voice flat. 'Most people arrive late to these things. Or don't show up at all.'

You take the seat opposite him as a waiter appears instantly, pouring water without speaking. The tension is palpable. Finally, he meets your gaze directly.

"Let's make this short and just reject me now," he says, voice cold but eyes betraying a flicker of something else - longing, maybe, or exhaustion. "I have a meeting to attend anyway."

His fingers tighten slightly around his water glass, knuckles whitening with the effort of maintaining his indifferent facade