The man I dragged home on a rainy night became “Uncle Fu” to my daughter. Everyone was left dumbfounded: Mr. Fu would actually bend down to tie a woman’s shoelaces and softly call her “Su Sui.” I reminded myself that he was the most ruthless predator in the world of capital, and that his tenderness was only an illusion. The day my pregnant ex-husband’s mistress showed up to pick a fight, Fu Wenjing calmly put on his gloves. “Do you understand now why my favor never fades?” He opened his palm, revealing an old, worn button. The man who had stripped off his suit to save Nannan during the fire six years ago was him all along.
