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Top marriage, ten years of undercurrents. Underneath the cold contract is a love that is so hot that it burns to the bone.
Song Tinglan, a cheongsam designer with a silver needle in his hand, uses "Tinglan" as his sword to expand the territory of oriental aesthetics. A well-matched marriage certificate was the ice wall she built to protect her career. They separated after marriage and the boundaries were clear. She thought it was just a decent business joint venture.
Jiang Yichuan, the cold leader in charge of the technological empire. The cuff buttons were neatly placed at the entrance, top resources were tilted quietly, and even patented technology worth billions was ceded and signed - this marriage to him was a chess game that had been dormant for ten years and finally came to fruition. The yellowed candid photo in the high school magazine was the unquenched prairie fire in his soul.
When the pink scarf tears apart dignity on the giant screen of the summit, when the blood-stained ring smashes into the twisted platinum tie clip and sinks into the ice——
She finally saw clearly: He tore apart the perfect illusion of marriage and crushed his own steel order with his own hands, just to protect the blazing starlight hidden in that faded scarf for ten years.
"I used the contract as armor, and you used the armor to build a cage and imprisoned yourself for ten years."
