[Misunderstandings and heartache + destined cure + face-slapping and falling in love]
When Tang Ruzhou pressed a drug-laced glass of red wine into my hand, I had no idea it would send me straight to hell. He was my “fiancé,” the man I depended on while living under someone else’s roof, yet he did this to me just to pursue the girl he liked…
The man on the bed was tense with rage, his eyes bloodshot. The moment I approached, he pinned me against the headboard. His hoarse voice dripped with ice: “You filthy slut, throwing yourself at me. How dare you touch me?”
After that chaotic night, his secretary cornered me in the rain as I was being thrown out of the house. “Miss Tang, you’re the only one who can ease Mr. He’s condition.”
Only then did I learn that this man, who despised me more than anyone, was born with a strange illness. Only the touch of his “destined person” could bring him relief.
And I happened to be the one and only exception.
He called me vain, yet clutched my wrist and refused to let go in the dead of night. He said I had no shame, yet when I tried to leave, he held me tight, eyes red, and locked me in his embrace.
Before the nude photos my fiancé had taken of me could spread through the neighborhood, he stepped in front of me and declared to everyone, “She belongs to me.”
On the day the truth finally came to light, he held me, battered and bruised, his voice trembling. “I’m sorry… I lost my cure for so long.”
