The year my father’s audio services conglomerate was brought down by a rival, Wen Qianluo was nineteen. She saved my life, but the explosion left her deaf. For the next ten years, I became her ears and her voice. I gave up my place in the world of music, devoted myself to learning sign language and lip-reading, and fought my way into the business world, step by step, until I raised her to the heights of the tech industry. After her hearing recovered, I personally helped her clear her name and reinvent herself. She became the much-admired “President Wen.” But on the day we were supposed to try on our engagement rings, I was five minutes late. I saw another young man wearing the wedding ring from the “Starry Sky” collection I’d designed, showing it off to the camera. Wen Qianluo’s bodyguards were gathered around him, addressing him as “Mr. Ji” and saying, “President Wen said this set is just for you to wear for fun.” I snatched up the tray of rings and smashed it, tray and all, into the young man’s face. Glass shards flew everywhere. Then I turned around and swept my cold gaze over the speechless bodyguards. My voice was icily calm. “I can throw him away.” “But every diamond in this ‘Starry Sky’ collection that he’s touched, he can swallow.”
