Chapter 1

On Qixi, my husband Yan Cheng and the Yan Group he’d founded were trending again.

The hashtag: *The Most Romantic Boss.*

The reason was simple. He’d ordered red roses for every employee, men and women alike.

The press praised his generosity and thoughtfulness. The ideal boss everyone dreamed of working for.

My phone kept vibrating with congratulations.

“Wanwan, your husband is the best man alive!”

“Did you save the entire galaxy in your last life to marry someone like him?”

My fingertips went cold as I read.

Then I opened his assistant Bai Weiwei’s WeChat Moments.

Her latest post explained everything.

In a luxury restaurant, she held a bouquet identical to those the company had given every employee. But she’d deliberately parted the petals to reveal a sapphire ring the size of a grape.

*My first bouquet this Qixi. Some people buy flowers for everyone as an excuse, then save a special surprise for me. Thank you, boss~*

I recognized it at once.

Tears of the Deep. The ring I’d wanted at auction.

Bidding had opened at five million and ended at eight.

Now it was on his assistant’s hand. Clearly, my husband had bought it.

I scrolled down.

Two months earlier: *The first milk tea of autumn.* Attached was a screenshot of a fifty-two-thousand-yuan transfer from Yan Cheng.

One month earlier: *The first strawberry ice cream of summer.* With it, an approval for thirty days’ paid leave, bearing my husband’s unmistakable sweeping signature.

The comments overflowed with envy.

“Are these company benefits real?”

“Assistant Bai, you must have saved the world in your last life!”

I knew about the milk tea and ice cream for staff.

But fifty-two thousand yuan? Thirty days’ paid leave? How had I, the boss’s wife, never heard of those?

In the newest photograph, the man opposite her was visible only from the chest down.

The dark navy tie with diagonal stripes was the one I’d tied for Yan Cheng that morning.

The suggestive angle made its tip seem to brush her breast by accident.

My throat tightened.

Holding on to the last of my dignity, I called him.

Music, cutlery, and a woman’s sweet laughter filled the background.

“Wanwan? What is it?”

His voice was as gentle as ever.

“I’m working late. Urgent meeting. I’ll probably be home late tonight.”

The lie came so smoothly it hurt.

I tightened my grip until my nails dug into my skin, but kept my voice level.

“Really? Send me a photograph of the meeting room. Mom just asked how we’re spending Qixi. I want something to post so she’ll stop questioning me.”

A few seconds of silence.

“Don’t joke around, Wanwan. I’m in a meeting. Be serious.”

Impatience had entered his voice.

I gave a small, cold laugh.

“A meeting? I thought you were helping Assistant Bai try on that eight-million-yuan Tears of the Deep ring.”

The sound at his end seemed to vanish.

I pictured the color draining from his face.

“Yan Cheng. Ten minutes.”

I didn’t raise my voice.

“If you aren’t standing in front of me by then, tomorrow’s hashtag won’t be Romantic Boss. It’ll be Yan Group Chairman’s Affair with His Assistant.”

I hung up and tossed the phone onto the sofa.

Outside, the brilliant lights of the city—the world we’d helped build together—had never looked so cold.

His car screeched to a halt outside the villa in less than ten minutes.

He entered with disheveled hair, sweat on his forehead, and his tie askew.

The face once celebrated as the city’s most handsome chief executive was full of alarm.

“Wanwan, let me explain—”

The classic opening of every betrayer.

I sat on the sofa without looking at him and turned my phone around.

Bai Weiwei’s photograph.

“Explain what? Why your tie is on her chest? Or why you spent eight million of our marital assets on a ring for another woman?”

My voice was almost emotionless.

That only made him more flustered.

He was used to my gentleness, my tolerance. He’d never seen this coldness.

He approached and reached for my hand.

I moved away.

“It isn’t what you think! Weiwei and I… nothing’s happened!”

“The ring was a company reward! She’s done excellent work, brought in major projects. She deserved recognition!”

I laughed softly.

“A company reward that requires you to take it to a restaurant and put it on an employee’s finger yourself? When did the rewards policy change? Why wasn’t the largest shareholder informed?”

I met his eyes.

“The company may bear your surname, but I, Shen Wan, hold fifty percent. Without my father putting his entire fortune behind you during that crisis, do you think you’d be here today?”

Every word struck his pride.

He went pale.

Nothing angered him more than reminders that he’d relied on his wife’s family.

He’d spent years constructing his self-made image, conveniently forgetting whose money laid the foundations.

His fingers tapped against his trousers. An old habit when he panicked.

“After all these years together, you won’t trust me because of one photograph?”

I smiled faintly.

“All these years? What we had died when you put Tears of the Deep on another woman’s hand.”

I stood.

“One last question. What exactly is she to you?”

He looked away and repeated that nothing had happened.

I nodded, pulled a file from beneath the coffee table, and threw it against his chest.

“Then sign.”

He looked down. His face turned white.

An addendum to our marital fidelity agreement.

If Party B, Yan Cheng, betrayed the marriage—including an improper relationship or expensive gifts to another woman—Party A, Shen Wan, could require him to leave with nothing and transfer all his Yan Group shares.

“Shen Wan! What is this? Have you been investigating me?”

His voice rose. The gentle-husband mask slipped, revealing anger and panic.

“No investigation needed. I’m giving you a chance to prove your innocence. What’s wrong, Mr. Yan? Afraid to sign?”

The room grew suffocatingly still.

His eyes flickered as he looked at me.

I felt only emptiness.

The man who’d once crossed half the city in the rain to buy me hot porridge had been worn hollow by time and money.