I spent seven years chasing after Song Muye, lifting him from poverty and placing him on a pedestal. I even let him live in my villa and arranged for a private driver to take him to and from school. I showered him with more than a hundred thousand yuan every month, just so he would look at me a little more. But he still wasn't satisfied. He squandered my money, used my connections, flirted with his childhood sweetheart, and even put on the act of a rich young heir in front of everyone. Yet he remained utterly cold toward me, accusing me of using money to insult his dignity. He even sabotaged my family's company until it went bankrupt, then teamed up with his childhood sweetheart to kill me and steal what little I had left. When I opened my eyes again, he was sneering at the 200,000 yuan I'd put in his account and the watch I'd given him. I scoffed, snatched back the card and watch, and slapped him across the face. “Ungrateful bastard! You spend my money and still have the nerve to give me attitude!”
