To save my family from bankruptcy, I was forced to marry Lu Chenzhou, a taciturn tech tycoon.
On our wedding night, I danced on the bed in my red pajamas. “Listen, Lu, I’ll put on a show, but I’m not sleeping with you!”
He brought up the security footage without changing expression. “That video of you pole-dancing at a bar last month, was that just a show?”
Furious, I tore up the prenuptial agreement. “I want half your assets!” He stamped it calmly. “Deal, on one condition: make me mad three times a day.”
As I diligently made trouble at every turn, he stared at my doodled-on documents. “Mrs. Lu’s match-three strategy solved the company’s merger problem?”
Then his rival kidnapped me. I called him, sobbing, “Honey, they won’t give me any ice cream!” The kidnapper snapped, “We’re freaking extorting you!” Lu Chenzhou laughed. “There, there. You can have all the ice cream you want. Take off the kidnapper’s hood: it’s the new CTO we just poached.”
Later, the financial headlines read: The Lu couple joined forces, wiping tens of billions off their competitor’s market value. Curled up in his arms, I sighed. “Honey, I think I’m out of ways to cause trouble.” He kissed my fingertips. “That’s fine. I’ll take over for the second half.” For example, maybe we should start by making a baby?
