A Buddhist tycoon in the Beijing circle married a cold ancient book restorer. Everyone said it was a cold marriage. On the night of receiving the certificate, the heroine handed over the non-intervention treaty, and the hero signed it with a cold face. Then he turned around and went crazy in the basement looking at her photos on the wall - this marriage was a marriage he had planned for nine years.
She treats marriage as a transaction, her black card as a salary card, and is always counting down to divorce; he is a loveless boss outside, and he pretends to be pitiful and plays green tea at home, just to get her to look at him. When the contract was about to expire, she filed for divorce in a dashing way, and he tore off all pretense, imprisoning her with red eyes in the heavy rain: "You can't leave without my permission."
The waistcoat of secret love falls off, and the extreme tug makes your heart beat. She started her career and reached the stage of intangible cultural heritage, and he did everything he could to protect her. From a contracted couple to a two-way couple, the old house was on fire, and the person in power only bowed down for her.
