I transmigrated into the 1970s as a poor girl treated like a beast of burden by her whole family. I'd just had my engagement called off, and now they wanted me to trade myself for my little brother's betrothal gifts?
No way! I slapped a severance letter down on the table, roasted sunflower seeds and made pastries, and became the county's first millionaire through my own hard work.
The neighbors called me ungrateful and waited to see me make a fool of myself.
Only Fang Weidong, the retired soldier next door, put his passbook in my hands. His gaze was steady. “I'm with you. If it works out, we'll be comrades in arms. If it doesn't, I'll face it with you.”
Later, I got into university and expanded my business across the country.
My ex and my family came to beg for forgiveness, their eyes red.
Fang Weidong stepped in front of me, pulled out his credentials, and declared in a booming voice, “My wife is kindhearted, so I'll say this just once: please leave!”
