The Capital's Playboy Heir Begs Me to Marry Him: Wife, My Fate Is Missing You

[Money-loving, mischievous mystic × ruthless, deranged CEO]

Shen Qiao's divination shop has a clear price list: predict your time of death, 88 yuan per person, no refunds.

After all, she's a short-lived person herself. The Shen family seal drains her lifespan, and she won't live past twenty-five. So she's greedy, protective of her life, and always after money. She watches other people's deaths with cold indifference and never lifts a finger to save anyone.

Until He Tingzhou kicked down her door.

The CEO of the He Corporation had a twitching left eyebrow and a golden fate. The He family curse, which meant that no male heir would live past thirty, was ticking away inside him.

He slapped down a black card. "Two hundred thousand. Tell me how to avoid it."

She didn't even look up. "Thirty thousand a month. I only predict when you'll die. I don't save people."

The engagement-breaking case in the twelfth lunar month, a blood-jade Pixiu, a life-swapping talisman, the formation point at the ancestral grave... He risked his life to fight off underworld enforcers, while she used his contract to try to swindle the Underworld Bureau.

He grabbed her by the waist, furious, the corners of his eyes red. "You used my contract to negotiate. Do you know that if it burns, you'll disappear with it?"

She rose on tiptoe and kissed him. "I know."

"You know and you still went?"

"Because I don't want you to die."

"Shen Qiao, that's cheating."

"Love doesn't count."

The golden fate shattered the seal, and the power of belief returned to the shared-life lock.

He had thirty-three years, she had twenty-six. A difference of two and a half meters between life and death.

He believed in nothing but her. She read no one's fate but his.