You got your marriage certificate and then abandoned me? I'll feed the richest woman in the wor

"Zi'ang's ankle is swollen, I have to go there now."

At the entrance of the Jianghai Civil Affairs Bureau, the early spring air in March still carried the chill of a razor blade scraping against one's cheek.

Lin Qinghan hung up the phone and naturally stuffed the bright red marriage registration form back into her Hermes bag.

She didn't even lift her eyelids.

"You can't get the certificate today. You'll have to take a taxi home yourself."

Wearing eight-centimeter high heels, she turned around, bringing with her a slightly hurried fragrance.

Chen Yuan stood on the steps, his fingers tightly gripping the small velvet box containing the diamond ring in his pocket.

His knuckles were white, and his fingernails were almost embedded in his flesh.

"Lin Qinghan, today is an auspicious day that we have prayed for before the Bodhisattva for three years."

Chen Yuan's voice was somewhat hoarse, as if there was a handful of rough sand stuck in his throat.

"He just sprained his ankle, he didn't die."

Lin Qinghan suddenly stopped in her tracks, turned around, and her delicate eyebrows furrowed into a tight knot.

"Chen Yuan, can you please stop being so unreasonable?"

Her tone was full of condescending annoyance, as if she were looking at a child who didn't know any better.

"Zi'ang is all alone in Jianghai City, without anyone to take care of him."

"You're a grown man, don't you even have this much tolerance?"

Before Chen Yuan could respond, a red Porsche had already pulled up to the side of the road.

Lin Qinghan opened the car door without the slightest hesitation.

"Stop fooling around. I'll be home early tonight. Wait for me for dinner."

boom.

The car door slammed shut, and the roar of the engine shattered the silence of early spring.

The bright red taillights left two glaring blood-red streaks on Chen Yuan's retina before disappearing at the end of the street.

A gust of cold wind blew into the collar of Chen Yuan's coat, taking away the last bit of warmth from his body.

Five years.

For five whole years, I toiled like a slave.

To help Lin Qinghan build that dilapidated startup, he developed stomach problems and his hair turned white from exhaustion.

What they got in return was that on the day they received their marriage certificate, the certificate was discarded like a worn-out shoe.

A familiar spasm suddenly came from my stomach, and acid reflux surged up my esophagus.

Chen Yuan did not clutch his stomach as usual.

He slowly loosened his grip on his fingers, which had become deformed from being squeezed in his pocket.

He took out the three-carat diamond ring that he had originally planned to put on her today.

Sunlight hits the facets of the diamond, refracting a cheap and ironic halo.

Chen Yuan walked to the green trash can by the roadside and flipped his wrist.

Clang.

The velvet box slammed onto the greasy takeout container and rolled into the deepest stench.

He turned around without looking back.

Half an hour later, in the wealthy district of Jianghai City, at the Lin family villa.

Pushing open the heavy fingerprint lock door, the empty living room was devoid of any human presence.

Only the huge European-style wall clock ticked away, its sound so loud it was suffocating.

Every piece of expensive furniture here was created by Chen Yuan, typing out strings of code.

But this was never his home.

Chen Yuan walked straight to the cramped storage room on the second floor that didn't even have windows—that was his bedroom.

He pulled out an old, faded canvas bag.

Two pilling shirts, a pair of faded jeans, and a three-year-old cell phone.

This was all the wealth he had accumulated in the Lin family over the past five years.

It couldn't even fill one suitcase.

Ironically, in Lin Qinghan's master bedroom next door, the plush toys given to her by Gu Ziang alone took up an entire wall.

With his canvas bag slung over his shoulder, Chen Yuan entered the study for the last time.

The pure black triple-screen workstation still emitted a faint, cold glow.

This is the core server terminal of the Lin Group.

Chen Yuan pulled out his gaming chair, his long, slender fingers resting on the cold mechanical keyboard.

The densely packed underlying architecture code on the screen resembles a swarm of tamed worker ants.

The Lin Group's current valuation of tens of billions is entirely due to this algorithm, which is five years ahead of its competitors.

The authorship of this code remains blank.

Lin Qinghan said that once the company goes public, his name will be added to the company's name legitimately.

Chen Yuan's gaze was fixed on the line of flashing cursors.

The spasms in my stomach had been replaced by an extremely cold rationality.

The clattering sound of keyboard typing suddenly filled the empty study.

Extremely fast.

It even left afterimages.

"System message: Accessing the underlying protocol of the core firewall."

Chen Yuan pressed Enter, and a scarlet warning pop-up instantly filled all three screens.

Without hesitation, he entered the twelve-digit highest-level password that only he knew.

"Confirm physical shredding?"

Chen Yuan's finger hovered above the Enter key for less than half a second.

Snapped.

The dull thud of the buttons seemed to toll the death knell for the Lin Group.

The progress bar on the screen was visibly and rapidly increasing.

10%...50%...99%...

The logical chains he painstakingly wrote, day and night, with bloodshot eyes, turned into a bunch of meaningless gibberish.

"The underlying data has been cleared."

"The firewall module has been permanently uninstalled."

"All server licenses have been revoked."

After emitting a final, sharp beep, the three expensive monitors turned into a completely black screen.

In that instant, all of the Lin Group's business locations became like paper houses with no defenses whatsoever.

Even a third-rate hacker could easily turn the Lin family's prized database into a sieve.

But that's none of his business anymore.

Chen Yuan stood up and picked up the stack of prenuptial agreements that Lin Qinghan had just drafted last night.

The agreement clearly states that if they divorce, Chen Yuan will leave with nothing.

stab.

The sound of paper being torn is crisp and pleasant.

Chen Yuan casually tossed the scraps of paper into the air, letting them fall like snowflakes onto the dark keyboard.

Let whoever wants to be a simp be it.

I've served you enough.

The canvas bag straps on his shoulders were digging into his flesh, but Chen Yuan's steps were lighter than ever before.

He walked out of the cramped storage room and through the luxuriously decorated corridor.

As he passed through the entryway, he saw a pair of men's slippers on the shoe cabinet.

That was specially prepared by Lin Qinghan for Gu Ziang.

The disdainful look lingered for only a fraction of a second.

Chen Yuan took out his access card from his pocket and threw it, along with the spare key to the Porsche, into the trash can next to the shoe cabinet.

drop--

The electronic lock on the gate emitted a cold, mechanical sound before springing open.

The afternoon sun at three o'clock shone down generously into the dimly lit villa entrance hall, so bright it made one's eyes sting.

The sounds of traffic on the street flooded back into my ears, carrying the cacophony of this vibrant world.

Chen Yuan wasn't wearing sunglasses, and he squinted in the glaring sunlight.

The last breath of stale air belonging to this house was exhaled forcefully from his lungs.

All those humble attempts to please, the late-night hot porridge, and the suppressed grievances were completely blown away by this one breath.

An unprecedented feeling of ease instantly flowed through my limbs and bones.

Even the stomach pain that had tormented him for years seemed to have vanished without a trace.

He reached out and grabbed the brass handle of the door, slowly pulling it backward.

The door hinges rubbed together, producing a faint, sour sound.

Through the gradually closing door, Chen Yuan looked at the luxurious yet cold world in the living room.

The air still seemed to linger with Lin Qinghan's expensive and pungent perfume.

But it will soon be replaced by the fresh air that belongs to him.

There was no lingering attachment.

Chen Yuan pulled his suitcase, pushed open the door, and left the empty room with his last words:

"Lin Qinghan, from now on, your life or death has nothing to do with me."