She had plastic surgery to look like his beloved.
He gripped her chin and warned her, “A substitute should be nothing more than a decoration. Don't dream of shining.”
After five years in hiding, she stole the key documents from his safe, and casually took his newly formed embryo with her.
At the pinnacle of Paris, she is a luxury queen draped in a glacier of diamonds, while his giant-screen eulogy becomes the absurd backdrop to her coronation.
When a helicopter crashes through the show venue's glass dome and he grabs her by the throat, demanding, “You stole my child?”
The twins are busy standing on his torn trousers and hawking: “Mister, want to buy a genuine item from the cemetery where Mommy burned offerings for you?”
She smiles as she lights up her phone. The charred original Moonlight in the urn sears his eyes.
“Fu Chengyu, the demon you mourned was scattered over the grave I dug for you long ago.”
