On a stormy night, I was diagnosed with bone cancer. Then a headline popped up on my phone: my husband was celebrating his first love’s birthday.
“Lu Group CEO splashes tens of millions to win a smile from Su Beauty.”
Trembling, I called him, only to get a cold sneer in reply:
“Faking an illness to win my affection? Lin Wan, you’re not even fit to be a stand-in.”
That night, I signed the divorce papers and finished designing my final work while coughing up blood.
Three months later, at Su Rou’s birthday banquet, Lu Jin received an anonymous auction lot:
my urn and a will worth a fortune:
“Spend the rest of your life regretting it, and pay tribute to the bones that never had time to grow cold.”
