He was the powerful chief diplomat with deep red eyes and elegant demeanor, but at a certain moonlight banquet, he personally put the dress on her - outlining her fatal curves and announcing her new identity: "My wife of a diplomat."
But she is no canary.
On the racecourse in the early morning, she rode her horse and whipped her whip, and the scar on her collarbone glowed faintly in the sunlight. At that moment, the admiration in his eyes burned with passion.
She is neither tamed nor defined by fate.
And he will eventually be defeated by her looking back.
Purpose: From passive marriage to self-growth, women are not subordinate, but side by side.