The day Jian Yin took her younger sister’s place as a bride, she thought she was just a pawn.
Lu Yanzhou, head of the Lu Group, was rumored to be cold and heartless.
He told her, “One year. Five million. We stay out of each other’s business.”
Jian Yin nodded and treated it like a job.
She lived in the art studio on the third floor of the Lu family mansion, painting every day, taking commissions, and never asking where he went.
He brought her warm milk and tucked a note under the cup: “Beautiful.”
She asked, “Did you go to No. 7 High School?”
He said, “No.”
Until she opened the locked box in his study...
Sixty-five letters, every one of them written by her on a whim back in high school.
“Math was so hard today.” “There’s a cat outside the art room window.” “Lu, can I sit beside you?”
Every letter had been folded and unfolded over and over, then carefully folded again.
The paper had yellowed, and the handwriting had faded.
It turned out he had kept his decade-long secret love even more carefully than she had.
