The beauty mark beneath Ruan Nancen’s left eye was the only reason Lu Chengyuan married her.
She thought it was repayment for saving a boy from a fire when she was young. She had no idea the person she saved was Qin Zhaoheng, the heir to power in Hong Kong City.
Throughout their three-year marriage, Lu Chengyuan’s tenderness never lasted beyond a night.
Then Yin Xue, who looked seven-tenths like his beloved first love, returned to the country. She held a cup of boiling water and “accidentally” splashed it on Ruan Nancen.
Lu Chengyuan rushed over and shoved away his pregnant wife, then scooped Yin Xue into his arms. “A Xue is frail. Stand farther away!”
Late that night, he came home smelling of Yin Xue’s perfume. His fingertips grazed Ruan Nancen’s beauty mark, his eyes hazy. “A Xue, don’t go...”
Ruan Nancen struggled. “You didn’t put one on...”
“Shh,” Lu Chengyuan interrupted with a gasp, kissing the beauty mark. “This way, you look more like her.”
In that moment, I touched the new life in my belly and finally saw clearly. Those three years of deep love meant nothing; I only resembled her because of the beauty mark by my eye.
I left the divorce papers and disappeared without a trace.
When we met again, the elegant and devoted heir to Hong Kong City, Qin Zhaoheng, stood by my side, and my belly carried the precious child he cherished.
Lu Chengyuan pinned me against the wall, eyes red. “Who said you could get pregnant with someone else’s child? Come back with me!”
I smiled and pushed him away, then called toward the kitchen, “Honey, your ‘trash pickup’ delivery is here!”
