The morning light, filtered through heavy curtains, did little to dispel the lingering silence in the vast villa. Xia Yue woke late, the emptiness of the grand house a familiar, unnerving presence. Zhi Sister, a constant and quiet shadow, had already laid out a meal that, despite its low-fat promise, was too tempting. Xia Yue ate, her hunger a temporary distraction from the unfamiliar weight of her new life. The desired weight loss, like many things here, felt just out of reach.

Later, on a plush yoga mat, Xia Yue attempted to find solace in routine. She opened her phone, the screen flickering with a deluge of messages. Many were harsh, anonymous curses. A familiar sigh escaped her lips as she closed the app, the digital world offering little comfort. She created a new, small account, hoping for a brief escape. The algorithms, understanding her unspoken need for distraction, filled her feed with images of attractive strangers. She scrolled through, a fleeting sense of detachment washing over her. The real world, within these opulent walls, remained an enigma.

The afternoon blurred into a series of aimless activities. Xia Yue found herself drawn to the faces on her screen, a superficial connection in a house that felt devoid of genuine human warmth. It was Zhi Sister's soft voice that broke the trance, announcing the impending dinner. "Madam," Zhi Sister began, her tone gentle, "this is what I've prepared for you." She presented a simple salad. Xia Yue’s eyes, however, were drawn to the elaborate spread that adorned the large dining table. "And the rest…?" she inquired, a strange mix of curiosity and apprehension in her voice.

Zhi Sister’s smile, usually subdued, seemed brighter than usual. "The rest is for the Master. He is coming home tonight." A wave of unease washed over Xia Yue. The Master. Her cheap husband. The man described in hushed tones as abstinent, handsome, and perfect. She had never met him, this figure of immense power and wealth who held her future in his hands. A chill traced down her spine as she remembered the stringent agreement, its clauses imprinted in her mind. Her room, thankfully, was not on the same floor as Sha Hao's. This small detail offered a sliver of comfort, a temporary shield against the unknown.

The hours crawled by, each tick of the ornate clock amplifying her anxiety. When the moment finally arrived, it was abrupt. Sha Hao, having just finished his work, was descending the grand staircase. Xia Yue, standing in the hallway, felt an almost magnetic pull, her gaze fixed upon him. He paused, a silent question in his deep-set eyes. "What are you standing there for?" His voice was a low, resonant hum, like the distant thrum of a cello string. It sent a strange tremor through Xia Yue, a mix of fascination and fear. He was even more striking than the book had described – a vision of stark, almost intimidating perfection. Tall, impeccably built, his presence filled the cavernous hallway, even in loose home clothes. This was the legendary Sha Hao, the female lead's mythical 'white moonlight'.

Withdrawing her gaze, Xia Yue gestured instinctively, creating a visual barrier between them. "Three meters apart," she stated, the words sounding rigid, almost rehearsed. She was adhering strictly to an unspoken rule, a personal boundary in this unfamiliar territory. Sha Hao simply regarded her, his expression unreadable. He seemed to scrutinize her, as if searching for a familiar trace in her altered demeanor. He descended the stairs, and Xia Yue, maintaining her careful distance, followed. The dining table, opulent as it was, presented a challenge. It wasn’t long enough to allow her preferred three meters. With a slight sigh, she collected her salad bowl and settled onto the sofa, a silent protest against the forced proximity.

A subtle shift in Sha Hao’s gaze indicated his understanding. "Come over to eat," he instructed, his voice devoid of emotion. He did not wish to dine with her, yet he would not allow her to eat on the coffee table. Xia Yue looked up, her eyes seeking confirmation. Was this one of those "necessary moments"? A barely perceptible nod from Sha Hao was all the answer she needed. With a sudden burst of contained energy, she returned to the table, taking the seat opposite him. She chewed her vegetables with a feigned indifference, but her eyes, like a curious predator, tracked his every move, counting each piece of food he consumed. His eating motions, initially fluid, began to slow, a subtle tension settling between them. Zhi Sister, ever observant, gently pushed a plate of seafood towards Xia Yue. "Madam," she offered, "these are low fat. You can eat them."

Xia Yue needed no further encouragement. She savored the delicate taste of the air-flown seafood, a momentary indulgence amidst the simmering unease. Sha Hao, typically a man of precise discipline, found himself distracted. He realized, with a flicker of annoyance, that he had consumed far more than his usual seventy percent. His face darkened, a subtle frown creasing his brow as he abruptly left the table. Xia Yue paid him no mind, immersing herself in a game on her phone, a temporary escape. She had recently found a gaming partner, a university student whose cheerful chatter provided a welcome distraction. Her game ID, "Lovesick Monkey Auntie," and her partner's "Sweet Kitten," were curious anomalies in the solemn house. Even Zhi Sister, initially surprised by the vibrant ID, now simply smiled as she brought Xia Yue her nightly "nourishing milk tea" – a strange concoction infused with cordyceps.

Zhi Sister’s presence was a quiet comfort. An old hand in the Sha household, she had witnessed the villa’s transformation from a cold, empty shell to a place with a new, albeit strange, liveliness. She felt a quiet sense of satisfaction, believing that old Madam Sha, wherever she was, would approve. As the night deepened, the vast villa eventually sank into an echoing silence. But for Xia Yue, sleep remained elusive. Thirsty from the potent milk tea, she slipped out of bed, her bare feet silent on the cold marble floor. As she padded downstairs, a faint, unsettling sound reached her ears – a distinct rustling from the kitchen. Burglars? Her heart began to pound a frantic rhythm against her ribs. Quietly, she removed her slippers, her senses heightened. Her eyes scanned the ornate hallway until they landed on a heavy, decorative vase on a nearby shelf. Gripping it firmly, she moved, a silent, barefoot shadow, towards the source of the sound. The rustling grew clearer, more defined, drawing her inexorably closer. She took a deep, shaky breath, the vase raised, her knuckles white. A dark shape emerged from the kitchen's shadows, and Xia Yue, with a desperate surge of adrenaline, brought the heavy vase down with all her might. "Ouch!" a sharp cry echoed through the silent house, cutting through the oppressive darkness, leaving Xia Yue breathless, the vase still clutched in her trembling hands.