She thought this was a contract marriage where each side got what they needed.
Three years ago, Su Wanqing applied to become Lu Yancheng's "contract wife" to repay the 80 million debt her father owed. On their wedding night, this cold-blooded business tycoon tossed her a 28-page contract: Clause 37, the right to hold hands; Clause 89, the right to feed her; Clause 120, the right to share her bed. She assumed he was only doing it to appease his elders.
She carefully stuck to her role: no crossing boundaries, no falling in love, and a quiet departure after three years.
She had no idea that...
The password to the safe in Lu Yancheng's study was the day she mailed in her manuscript;
The pocket watch he had treasured for ten years held a tiny image of her at her eighteenth birthday graduation ceremony;
During the worst years of his insomnia, his medical records listed the cause as "unknown."
She thought she was a Cinderella paying off a debt, while the one in his heart was his childhood sweetheart, the unreachable moonlight of his dreams.
Until the day she signed the divorce papers, when Lu Yancheng seized her wrist in the rain at the airport, his eyes red:
"I had the manuscript you slipped me when you were fourteen framed. I've kept it for ten years."
"I've carried the pocket watch you sent me when you were eighteen for 2,367 days."
"Su Wanqing, I've been searching for you all these ten years."
It turned out they had each secretly loved the other for a full ten years, but neither had dared to speak first.
This is a story of mutual pining: "I thought you loved someone else, you didn't dare admit it was me, and we carefully fell in love through a 28-page contract."
A story about a hundred clumsy attempts to keep someone from leaving, hidden behind a 28-page contract, and about two cowards finally learning to say "I love you."
And what troubles President Lu every day is this:
The right to feed her under Clause 89 of the contract has not been used today.
