Roses Die in the Dead of Winter

Everyone in Beijing's elite circles knew that Fu Hanzheng had a woman by his side named Shen Nanqiao.

She was gentle and quiet, like a dog that never made a fuss, always coming whenever he called.

Fu Hanzheng also thought that all he had to do was beckon, and this rose would bloom for him forever. Until the stormy night when he personally pushed Shen Nanqiao into the eye of the storm.

She didn't cry or make a scene. She simply handed in her resignation, paid off all her debts, and vanished without a trace on an ordinary morning. At first, Fu Hanzheng scoffed. “She'll come crawling back to me within three days.”

But three days passed, then three months, then a year...

The rose he'd casually tossed into the snow never bloomed again. Eventually, the mighty Mr. Fu lost his mind.

He searched every corner of the country, then fell to his knees in the mud with red-rimmed eyes, begging only for her to look back at him once.

When they met again, she was holding another man's arm, her eyes fixed on him as if he were a stranger.

“Mr. Fu, can I help you?” Only then did Fu Hanzheng realize:

His rose had truly died in that bitter winter.