Three years ago, during an operation at sea, I was Su Wanqing, the policewoman who shot his younger brother dead.
Three years later, in a VIP suite, I was a rose in his arms, my eyes smoldering with desire.
They said I was born for the night, and that the thorny rose on my back was a lover's brand.
Until an undercover cop stormed backstage, eyes bloodshot as he asked me, "Su Wanqing, how much longer are you going to keep pretending?"
But I really had forgotten.
Forgotten the gun, the sea, and that he had once been my husband.
Tonight was my coronation.
He raised his glass below the stage, his gaze as gentle as a blade:
"A toast to my rose, finally in full bloom."
The writing is quite good, mainly because the psychological activities are written particularly delicately.