Mr. Lu, Your KPI Is Below Par

I got married. A whirlwind marriage.

My husband's name is Lu Jiancheng. He looks like a decent guy, and his occupation is "freelance."

I'm a financial analyst with an annual salary of a million, and I married an unemployed drifter.

My friends all say I've been cursed.

Then I found a printed copy of The Perfect Husband Training Manual in a drawer in his study.

It was covered in detailed notes about my preferences, pet peeves, and how to handle them.

For example: "Send flowers on anniversaries. Keep the budget under 300, or she might get suspicious."

"When she works overtime, prepare a late-night snack. Never order takeout. Build an image of a devoted, domestic husband."

My hands and feet went cold as I called my best friend.

"Feifei, I'm done for. I think I married a professional scammer, and a bargain-basement one at that."

A scream came from the other end of the line.

"Don't panic! Turn the tables on him! Make him realize that money belonging to women of the new era isn't so easy to swindle!"