On the day I was sent to marry in someone else's place, my stepmother called me a worthless burden, my mother-in-law said I was throwing myself at her son, and my best friend laughed at me for marrying a laborer.
I put up with it. No one had ever treated me like a person in this life anyway.
That is, until the man in the faded white shirt called out, “President Li,” in front of everyone.
Twenty Rolls-Royces pulled up outside the hotel.
My mother-in-law fainted on the spot, my stepmother dropped to her knees and called me her “dear daughter,” and that so-called best friend cried and begged me to spare her company's business.
But I glanced at him and asked just one question: “You pretended to be poor for three days. Was it to see just how miserable I'd get?”
Later, he knelt in front of me, eyes red, and said, “Honey, I was wrong.”
