In Room 1812 of the Longines Grand Hotel, a modern romance drama was being filmed.

"Miss, here's your tea," a pretty maid said respectfully, bowing her head as she presented the cup.

Fan Ke'er, dressed in a fiery red backless gown with voluminous curls cascading down her shoulders, haughtily accepted the tea and took a delicate sip. Suddenly, her face twisted in fury. Without warning, she slapped the maid across the face. "Do you even know how to brew tea? You've ruined this premium Biluochun! Get out and make it again!"

A flash of hatred—half-real, half-feigned—crossed the maid's face before she retreated with tears in her eyes.

"Cut!" The director called out, sounding pleased. "That was perfect—great acting! Fan Ke'er, you can take a break now."

Fan Ke'er set down the prop teacup, her arrogant demeanor vanishing in an instant, replaced by a professional smile and an air of detached politeness. Since a few scenes required a hotel setting, the crew had simply filmed in the same hotel where they were staying.

"Ke'er, you were amazing! You must be exhausted—let me take you back to your room to rest!" Her agent and boyfriend, Pei Yuntian, hurried over, his handsome face full of warmth. His eyes flickered almost imperceptibly toward the prop teacup, a pang of guilt rising in his chest before he quickly suppressed it.

"Thanks, but I'm fine. You go ahead—my room's just next door. I can manage on my own." Ever since their explosive argument, when Pei Yuntian had threatened to break up if she refused to sleep with him, Fan Ke'er had kept her distance. Even after his desperate pleas had led to their reconciliation, the resentment still lingered.

"Oh, by the way, your old room didn’t have great lighting, so I switched you to a different one—Room 1818. You can find it, right?" Pei Yuntian’s gaze subtly tracked the actress who had played the maid, though his expression remained as casual as ever.

Fan Ke'er nodded. For some reason, she suddenly felt uncomfortably warm. She absently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, thinking the room’s heating must be turned up too high. Taking the new key card from Pei Yuntian, she stepped out and headed toward Room 1818.

As she walked down the plush, red-carpeted hallway, the heat inside her intensified. She tugged at the already low neckline of her dress, her mouth parched, her body burning as if set aflame. A strange, maddening itch crawled beneath her skin, like thousands of ants burrowing into her bones, gnawing at her from the inside out.

Quickening her pace, she reached Room 1818, swiped the key card, and rushed straight for the bathroom. The moment she pushed open the door, her breath caught in her throat.

A deep, irritated voice cut through the air. "Who's there?"

Fan Ke'er froze, her mind blanking in shock. Her eyes widened as she stared, dumbstruck, at the man’s bare, muscular back.

Duan Zhiyan swiftly glanced at the woman standing in the doorway before snatching up a towel to wrap around his waist. Beads of water still glistened on his sun-kissed skin, his damp black hair falling over his forehead in a way that was undeniably alluring.

"Get out!" he commanded, his voice low and rough with irritation, his sharp brows furrowing when she didn’t move.

The sound of his voice snapped Fan Ke'er back to reality—but the fire inside her only burned hotter. She clenched her thighs together, realization dawning with horrifying clarity. She had been drugged. The prop tea—it all made sense now. A thunderous roar filled her head as she bit down hard on her lower lip, summoning every ounce of willpower to fight against the overwhelming waves of desire crashing through her.

"It was you who ordered the director to drug my tea, wasn't it? You filthy rich people think you can play dirty just because you've got money? How dare you use such despicable methods! You're utterly shameless!" Fan Ke'er's tall frame trembled slightly as she pointed an accusing finger at the half-naked Duan Zhiyan, her voice hoarse with fury as she denounced his underhanded behavior.

In the TV drama, she played the role of a ditzy heiress—a supporting female character. Ever since her debut, countless investors and wealthy businessmen had approached her, demanding she accompany them to dinners, karaoke sessions, and even their beds. She had refused them all, which was why, despite years in the entertainment industry, her career had never taken off. She had dodged countless overt and covert advances, but this time, they had slipped drugs directly into her prop tea! She hadn't seen it coming at all!

Fan Ke'er's delicate face was flushed with rage, her eyes blazing as she glared at the man in the bathroom, itching to claw his face to shreds. He looked every bit the gentleman, but beneath that polished exterior lurked nothing but a beast in human clothing!

Drugged? Duan Zhiyan frowned in displeasure. If he wanted a woman, he had never needed to resort to such methods. He didn’t even have to lift a finger before countless high-society ladies threw themselves at him. Why would he stoop to this?

His sharp gaze swept over her heavily made-up face, noting the unnatural flush on her cheeks and her ragged breathing. Putting together what she had just said, he quickly pieced together what must have happened.

"You've got the wrong man. Get out!" Whether she was truly a victim of foul play or just another woman trying to seduce him, Duan Zhiyan had no intention of entertaining her.