My Wife Is Pregnant, and the Thousand-Year-Old Clan Can’t Keep Its Secret

I spent three years restoring cultural relics at the Palace Museum, and three years witnessing the world's fickleness.

With red-rimmed eyes, my wife said, “The penalty for breaking the contract is ten billion. Let's be husband and wife again in our next life.”

I smiled, gazed at her snow-white neck, and dialed the number that had been silent for ten years.

The entertainment-industry tycoons who lorded it over everyone thought money could buy anything. They had no idea that the Lu family legacy stretched back a thousand years, that we controlled the Twelve Earthly Branches, or that wealth was nothing more than a string of numbers.

As helicopters filled the sky and sealed off the city of Shanghai, and a trillion-yuan market cap evaporated in an instant, the director who had once been untouchable fell to his knees and begged for mercy.

With my beautiful wife's slender waist in my arms, I looked down over the city's dazzling neon lights. “It's time to lay down the rules of the Lu Changyuan.”