Contract Marriage: The President's Stand-in Lover - Chapter 21:

The Edge Of Collapse

After that night, Vian felt as though a part of her had died along with

the silent heartbreak she carried.

She still went to the foundation every day, handling follow-ups on the Qingyuan Village project,

attending necessary meetings, even offering polite but distant smiles to

Secretary Chen and her colleagues. Yet only she knew that inside,

her world had turned to a barren wasteland, cold and hollow.

She no longer exchanged words with Gu Chen outside of work.

At breakfast, she stayed silent, eating quickly before leaving, at night,

she found excuses to stay late with work or settled her dinner alone in her room.

She sealed herself off completely, like a wounded snail retreating into its hard shell.

Gu Chen had clearly noticed her near-definitive distance. In the first few days,

he seemed to try to break the deadlock.

He commented during breakfast that he had seen her budget report for Qingyuan Village and

thought it was done well. Vian didn’t even lift her eyelids,

replying with a faint acknowledgment as if he were simply evaluating a document unrelated to her.

He tried again, suggesting she accompany him to a business dinner that evening.

Vian interrupted immediately, saying she had a headache and wanted to rest,

adding that he could invite someone more suitable instead.

Her words struck him like cold stones, his fingers tightening around his fork.

He said nothing.

After a few attempts met with silence, Gu Chen seemed to lose patience,

or perhaps her completely sealed-off attitude had provoked him.

He no longer spoke to her first, and the villa chilled into an almost tangible frost,

the air heavy and still.

One day, as Vian reviewed a collaboration agreement at the foundation, her phone rang.

The caller ID showed her father’s attending physician from the sanatorium.

Her chest tightened instinctively, and she picked up immediately.

The doctor’s voice was grave, telling her that her father’s mood was unstable again, his bl00d

pressure slightly high, and although they had calmed him,

he kept asking to see her, worried about the company. Vian’s face turned pale.

Her father could no longer bear any shock.

She hung up, grabbed her bag, and rushed out without even notifying Secretary Chen.

Her heart hammered as she reached the sanatorium, finding her father pale and leaning on his bed.

He grabbed her hand anxiously, asking about the company, fearing trouble from Gu Chen.

Vian forced a reassuring smile, holding his hand tightly. She promised everything was fine,

Gu Chen was handling things well, and the most important thing was for him to rest and recover.

Her voice was light and certain, but inside, she carried a boulder of worry.

She could no longer allow her father to suffer over her fake marriage.

After making sure he took his medicine and fell asleep, Vian left the room exhausted.

As she reached the sanatorium entrance, her phone rang again. It was Secretary Chen.

The art investment department was disputing budget allocation for Qingyuan Village,

with Consultant Martin insisting on cutting local artisans’ training subsidies

to increase funding for international artists. They needed her presence immediately.

Vian felt dizzy. Elizabeth would not let go easily. She hung up, massaging her temples,

feeling like a string stretched to its breaking point.

She rushed back to Gu Group, straight to the meeting room. Inside, the tension was palpable.

Elizabeth and her team sat on one side, Secretary Chen and the foundation staff on the other,

the atmosphere thick with unease.

Elizabeth smirked at Vian, challenging her. She argued that too much funding for local artisan

training was inefficient, advocating instead for international

artists to quickly elevate the project’s prestige.

Vian pushed down her fatigue and irritation, meeting Elizabeth’s gaze calmly,

insisting that the project’s core was cultural preservation.

Without safeguarding local traditions, no influx of international talent could provide real impact.

The training subsidies were vital to the livelihoods of older artisans and

the confidence of young apprentices.

Elizabeth sneered, calling her idealistic and reminding her that this was a business,

not charity. Vian’s voice rose, the pent-up pressure, grief, and pain spilling out.

If Gu Group invested only for short-term fame, ignoring the project’s cultural and

social value, how was it different from any profit-chasing company?

The room fell silent. Secretary Chen tugged at her sleeve, worried.

Elizabeth’s smile vanished as she leaned forward, hands on the table,

eyes sharp and cold, questioning Vian’s loyalty.

Enough, Vian thought. Her voice trembled, pale and strained, the world spinning around her.

The aggressive face of Elizabeth merged in her mind with the gentle side

profile of Gu Chen in the old photograph.

The substitute, the role, it was all too much. She could not endure another second.

She stepped back, her gaze sweeping the room, voice hoarse and exhausted,

despair barely contained. She told them to do as they wished with the project.

She was withdrawing.

Ignoring the stunned reactions behind her, she stumbled out of the meeting room.

Calls for her went unheard.

She fled to an empty stairwell, leaning against the cold wall,

sliding down until she could no longer hold back her tears. Her sobs were raw,

desperate, uncontrollable. The pressure of work, her father’s illness, Elizabeth’s provocation,

and Gu Chen’s silent acknowledgment all pressed down on her like mountains,

suffocating her.

As she sank into darkness, a low, incredulous voice pierced the air above her.

Vian, what are you doing now.