His Darling Little Rose

On a stormy night, she fled her wedding and stumbled into the most luxurious private party in Chiang Mai, becoming the center of attention.

The man at the head of the table stubbed out his cigar. Behind his gold-rimmed glasses, his gaze fixed on the moon pendant around my neck.

He pinned me against the door in front of everyone, his breath hot. “Lan Zixi, I’ve been waiting for you for fifteen years.”

After one wild night, I dragged my aching body to the airport, only to be stopped at security by heavily armed bodyguards.

He came after me, blood smeared across the back of his hand. In front of countless cameras, he swept me into his arms. “Run again, and I’ll lock you in the bedroom for the rest of your life.”

Only later did I learn that he was Leng Yao, the all-powerful Southeast Asian tycoon, and that my moon pendant and the star on his chest were a pair.

He brought several powerful families to heel for me and publicly humiliated his old flame, yet he never let me near the study on the third floor.

It wasn’t until the eve of our wedding, when I sneaked into that forbidden room, that I discovered its walls were covered with photos of me from childhood onward, along with a diary written over fifteen years:

“I dreamed about Xi’er again today. If she dares forget me, I’ll tie her to my side and make her tell me she loves me a hundred times a day.”

“I found her. She doesn’t remember me. It’s all right. I’ll spend my whole life making her fall in love with me again.”

And on the diary’s final page was the old island photo that changed our fate: she and he...