The day her family was destroyed, debt collectors pounded on her door with iron bars. The centenarian tycoon Lu Yichuan tossed her a black card and a diamond ring. “Marry me. When I die, all my tens of billions in assets will be yours.”
Yu Bai agreed on the spot. Who cared how old the man was? Once he kicked the bucket, she could take the money and grind her enemies into the dirt!
From then on, she played the “devoted wife.” By day, she sweet-talked Lu Yichuan until he smiled from ear to ear. Late at night, she gnashed her teeth at the “death countdown” on her phone: Why wasn’t the old geezer dead yet?
In winter, she turned the heat down to 16 degrees to freeze him, but he read the paper in a thin shirt without even sneezing. She secretly swapped his blood pressure medication for vitamins, only for the housekeeper to deliver a box of imported supplements the next day: “Sir was worried you were staying up too late and getting tired.” The braised meat was so salty it made her gag, but he polished off the plate. “Nothing tastes better than my Xiaobai’s cooking.”
At a cocktail party, someone made a snide remark about how she was “just waiting for Old Master Lu to die.” Lu Yichuan glanced over, and the person froze on the spot as if struck by an ice spike. Yu Bai felt a faint stir in her heart, but she was still more concerned about the inheritance, until she secretly opened a sandalwood box and found a painting of a woman in ancient dress who looked exactly like her.
Footsteps sounded behind her. Lu Yichuan took off his reading glasses, and his half-white hair turned black before her eyes. Golden light surged in his gaze. “You thought I was really an old man waiting to die?”
