When she woke up for the first time, she took off her wedding dress.
At the age of twenty and pregnant, she happily prepared for her wedding, but saw her husband, an artist, derogating her cherished past as "cheap" in public at a gallery reception. And she, who was pregnant and wearing an old shirt, became the saddest joke in the audience. That rainy night, she huddled on the steps of the club and had a miscarriage. Her blood mixed with the rain, washing away all her illusions about love.
The second time she woke up, she took the tissue.
After the divorce, she dragged her postpartum body to get drunk in a bar and vomited into a mess. A hand with sharp bones and mud stains handed over a crumpled tissue. The moment she raised her head, she saw clearly the utter embarrassment in her own reflection in the other person's eyes, as calm as an ancient well. "My embarrassment belongs only to me from now on." She held back her tears and clenched the tissue into a fist.
From waitress to vice president, she spent eighteen years turning the three words "Liu Yunque" into a symbol that no one in the industry dares to underestimate.
The sapphire blue suit is her armor, and the tens of billions of projects are her chessboard. She learned to deal gracefully under the scrutiny of Chairman Li Tao, and accurately escaped from the agarwood trap of Prince Li Shuo. She ground her pain into powder, mixed it into every negotiation and every contract, and built her own business empire.
It wasn't until the third time I woke up that I was caught off guard.
After getting drunk at the celebration party, he was sent back to the hotel by his young assistant Cheng Chi. When I woke up the next day, my clothes were intact, but my memory was fuzzy. Only my collarbone remained with a 0.3 Second of heat that seemed real and illusory. To make things even more difficult - she's pregnant. The time point ambiguously points to that night that was out of control.
Storms ensued.
