The night I drank with a client, the hospital had just sent a text demanding payment: we were still 420,000 yuan short of the deposit for my mother’s kidney transplant. Then the private room door opened, and the man seated at the head of the table was the ex I’d dumped with my own hands seven years ago.
Zhou Tingyue.
Back then, he had nothing. To save my mother, I’d driven him away with the cruelest words I could find. Seven years later, he had become the most untouchable man in Beijing’s elite circles.
After the drinking session, he cornered me in the fire escape and said coldly, “Xu Nanzhi, be here at nine tomorrow morning with your household registration booklet.”
I thought he was insane. But the next day, my company forced me to take the blame, and my family back home pressured me to sign a settlement over the fire that killed my father. With nowhere else to turn, I could only marry him.
Everyone said he had come back to take revenge on me. Only later did I learn he hadn’t tricked me into getting married just for the sake of marriage. He wanted to help me dig up the old fire that had killed my father and torn us apart seven years ago, down to its very roots.
This time, the Zhou family wanted me to bow my head, and the Gu family wanted me to keep quiet. But I was going to use this marriage certificate to drag every last one of them down.
