Fate’s Rival

The sleek conference room buzzed with tension. Glass walls revealed the bustling city outside, a reminder of the high stakes of the meeting. Lian Mei sat at the polished oak table, her posture straight and her expression calm, though her mind was anything but.

Of all the people to be assigned as her partner on this project, it had to be Zhao Yan.

The assignment was simple on paper but monumental in scope—a collaborative pitch between their companies for an exclusive development project. The client, an influential tech conglomerate, demanded the best, and the stakes were too high for either party to refuse. Their respective companies saw the partnership as a win-win, combining her innovative approach with Zhao Yan's impeccable execution.

For Lian Mei, however, it felt more like a lose-lose.

Zhao Yan entered the room with his usual air of quiet confidence, his tailored suit emphasizing his commanding presence. He offered her a small, almost mocking smile as he took the seat across from her.

"Miss Lian," he greeted smoothly, his voice low and composed.

"Mr. Zhao," she replied, her tone equally measured.

The project facilitator, an older man named Mr. Wen, cleared his throat to bring the meeting to order. "We're delighted to see two of the most brilliant minds in the industry working together. With your combined expertise, I'm confident this project will surpass expectations."

Lian Mei barely suppressed a snort. **Combined expertise**? Zhao Yan probably thought she was just here to fill a chair.

"I'm confident as well," Zhao Yan said, his gaze flicking to her. "Though I suspect our approaches may differ."

Lian Mei met his gaze, her chin lifting slightly. "Diverse perspectives often lead to better results. Assuming, of course, both parties are willing to listen."

Zhao Yan's lips twitched, but he said nothing, turning his attention to the documents in front of him.

As the meeting progressed, it became clear that "listening" wasn't on Zhao Yan's agenda.

"We'll begin with a structured rollout plan," he said, his voice steady as he outlined his vision. "Prioritizing scalability and sustainability will ensure the project's long-term success."

Lian Mei cut in before he could continue. "That's a solid approach, but it's too rigid. The client wants innovation, not a recycled blueprint. We need something bold that sets us apart from competitors."

"Bold ideas are fine," Zhao Yan said without looking up from his notes. "But only if they're grounded in practicality. Risking the client's trust on untested methods isn't bold—it's reckless."

Her jaw tightened. "And sticking to outdated models isn't practical—it's lazy."

The room went silent. Mr. Wen shifted uncomfortably in his seat, glancing between them. Zhao Yan finally looked up, meeting her glare with calm intensity.

"Miss Lian," he said, his voice smooth but firm, "if you'd prefer to gamble the project on theatrics, by all means, proceed. But I'll be the one cleaning up the mess."

Lian Mei leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. "Don't mistake my ideas for theatrics, Mr. Zhao. I don't gamble. I calculate. And my calculations tell me that playing it safe will lose us this deal."

For a moment, their gazes locked, the tension between them almost tangible. Then Zhao Yan leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable.

"Very well," he said. "Let's hear your proposal."

The challenge in his tone was clear, but Lian Mei wasn't about to back down. She launched into her vision for the project—an ambitious, dynamic approach that prioritized innovation while addressing potential risks.

To her surprise, Zhao Yan listened without interrupting. When she finished, he nodded once, though his expression remained impassive.

"It's... unconventional," he admitted. "But not without merit."

Her eyebrows shot up. Was that... a compliment?

"However," he continued, his tone turning sharp, "the execution needs refinement. Without a clear framework, your plan risks collapsing under its own complexity."

And there it was.

"Then it's a good thing we're working together," Lian Mei said coolly. "I provide the vision, and you provide the framework. Or is that too collaborative for you?"

Zhao Yan's lips curved into a faint smile. "Collaboration is fine. So long as it's efficient."

They spent the next several hours hashing out the details, each unwilling to yield but grudgingly finding common ground. By the time they left the conference room, the framework of their pitch was solid, if not seamless.

As they walked toward the elevator, Zhao Yan glanced at her. "You're not what I expected."

She frowned. "And what exactly did you expect?"

"Someone easier to handle," he said, his tone bordering on amused.

She stopped in her tracks, turning to face him. "If you think I'm here to make your life easier, you're in for a rude awakening."

He stepped closer, his dark eyes studying her intently. "I don't want easy, Miss Lian. I want results. And if you can deliver, I'll tolerate your... theatrics."

Lian Mei bristled, but before she could respond, the elevator doors opened. Zhao Yan stepped inside, holding the door for her.

"Coming?" he asked, his expression infuriatingly calm.

She squared her shoulders and stepped in, determined not to let him get the last word.

As the elevator descended, she couldn't help but steal a glance at him. He was as composed as ever, his gaze fixed ahead. But there was something in his demeanor—a quiet intensity that made her pulse quicken despite herself.

She shook her head, focusing on the project. Whatever this was, it wasn't personal. It couldn't be.

But as they walked out of the building and went their separate ways, she couldn't shake the feeling that she'd just met her match.