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

Su Qingqing pushed up the frames of her glasses on the bridge of her nose.

Watching Shen Wanzhou's gaze follow Chen Yuan's retreating figure, she lowered her voice and murmured to herself.

"Your anorexia is cured, but Miss... you seem to have developed a severe dependence on Chen Yuan."

The doctor's murmurs dissipated into the warm, even air of the living room.

The door closed softly.

Shen Wanzhou sat on the leather sofa with her legs curled up.

Her fair toes gripped the edge of the soft cashmere blanket.

My gaze followed the slightly ajar door across the corridor.

It landed firmly on the frosted glass of the first-floor kitchen.

That tall, upright figure was busy at the kitchen counter.

The knife blade made a soft, crisp sound as it sliced ​​through the cutting board.

The lingering aroma of the medicinal chicken soup still filled the air.

This smoky scent made her feel more at ease than any imported incense.

Shen Wanzhou pulled out a military-grade tablet hidden under a cushion.

The cold white light from the screen shone on her delicate cheeks.

A few days ago, she asked Xia Bing to investigate Chen Yuan's past.

In the Lin Group's bankruptcy database, there lies a record of old car recycling.

Lin Qinghan, that stupid woman who doesn't know what's good for her.

They impounded the used Volkswagen sedan that Chen Yuan had driven to buy groceries.

They didn't even leave him the little change he had in the car to buy cigarettes.

He even threw a rusty spare key into the trash can.

The moment I saw this record.

Shen Wanzhou's fingertips, gripping the edge of the tablet, turned bluish-white.

A strange, indescribable sour feeling rose in my stomach.

Her people suffered such injustice outside.

Even the metal shell that they used for transportation was stolen by someone stingily.

The Shen family tycoon, who was fiercely protective of his own, couldn't swallow this debt.

Even if Chen Yuan doesn't care at all now, she still has to make up for this loss of face.

She opened her contacts and dialed Xia Bing's encrypted hotline.

"Order a car, the most expensive and fastest one on the market."

Her voice was low, with a hint of petulant arrogance.

"No matter how much it costs, just have it airlifted over."

"I want to see it parked in the manor yard tomorrow morning."

After hanging up the phone, she tucked the tablet back under the cushion.

The aroma of scallion oil wafting from the kitchen made me feel completely at ease as I sank into the sofa.

The next morning.

The morning mist of early spring had not yet dissipated.

Dewdrops glistened on the leaves of the plane trees at Genting Highlands.

Boom—!

A deep, violent engine roar shattered the morning's tranquility.

It's not an ordinary car.

That was the sound of a heavy hydraulic transport vehicle rolling over a speed bump.

Chen Yuangang placed two bowls of steaming hot shrimp wontons on the table.

The porcelain bowl tapped softly on the solid wood table.

The black and gold carved gate was slowly pushed open from the outside.

A closed heavy-duty truck that is more than ten meters long.

It came to a steady stop in front of the fountain square.

The exclusive custom logo on the side of the carriage highlights the high value of the goods inside.

The tailgate of the cargo box slowly descended, accompanied by the sound of hydraulic airflow.

A striking carbon fiber streamlined body caught everyone's eye.

The Pagani Zonda Son is a limited edition of only five units worldwide.

The all-carbon fiber silver-gray paint job has a sharp, cool hue in the morning light.

The streamlined body resembles a sharp blade poised to strike.

The quad exhaust pipes at the rear of the car exude a violent, mechanical aesthetic that gets the blood pumping.

This is no longer a simple means of transportation.

This is a mobile vault that flies close to the ground.

Sunlight hits the car paint, refracting an expensive halo.

Chen Yuan took off his apron and casually draped it over the back of the chair.

Take long strides and walk out through the revolving glass doors of the lobby.

The morning breeze brushed against his forehead.

He raised an eyebrow as he watched the supercar being carefully unloaded by a professional technician.

Uncle Fu was already standing by the fountain.

She was holding a pure black velvet box.

At the corner of the solid wood staircase on the second floor.

Shen Wanzhou was wearing a cream-colored knitted nightgown.

Most of his body was hidden behind the wall.

Only half of his head was sticking out, peeking down through the gaps in the carved handrail.

Those shimmering, watery eyes blinked rapidly.

Their hands were clasped together, their palms covered in a slippery layer of sweat.

I bought it last night just for the sake of being domineering and satisfying.

Now that the car has actually been delivered, she's backing out.

Giving her gifts worth tens of millions of dollars wouldn't even make her blink.

But if she gave it to Chen Yuan, she was afraid he would think it was too extravagant.

What I fear even more is that when I appear on stage, I will ramble incoherently and make a fool of myself.

She had just grabbed Uncle Fu in the hallway and shoved the box containing the car keys into his hand.

"You...you go and give it to him."

"Just say it's an old car that's sitting idle on the estate, and you can drive it around as you please."

Uncle Fu stood downstairs and received the anxious gaze from upstairs.

The old butler shook his head helplessly, suppressing a smile.

He held the velvet box and walked up to Chen Yuan.

He bowed respectfully.

"Mr. Chen, this is what Miss ordered to be delivered."

The box is opened.

A strikingly designed supercar mechanical key lies quietly on black velvet.

The metal edges reflected a cold light.

Chen Yuan glanced at the key.

He glanced up again at the beast that cost tens of millions to build.

In the end, he didn't answer.

His deep gaze went over Uncle Fu's shoulder and landed directly on the corner of the stairs on the second floor.

The milky white hem of her dress hadn't had a chance to be pulled back yet.

The exposed section of her fair calf was frantically trying to hide in the shadows.

"Uncle Fu, you can't hold such a heavy thing."

Chen Yuan's voice was neither loud nor soft.

Yet, it carried a penetrating force, steadily and gracefully floating up to the second floor.

"I only feel at ease driving this car when the boss personally hands it to me."

Uncle Fu immediately understood what he meant.

He snapped the box shut and respectfully stepped aside.

Using the excuse of supervising the unloading, he strode out of the lobby.

The hall was now completely silent.

The breathing sounds at the corner of the stairs suddenly became disordered.

Shen Wanzhou leaned against the cold wall.

Hearing those words from below, my cheeks flushed instantly.

A blush spread down her neck to her collarbone.

He discovered it.

He insisted on going down himself.

She bit her full lower lip, leaving a white mark on it.

My toes were cramped and curled up inside my slippers.

One second, two seconds.

No one was urging anyone in the hall; only the sound of the fountain was heard.

That patience unique to Chen Yuan enveloped her across the building.

Finally, her chest heaved heavily.

Her slender fingers gripped the stair railing.

One step, two steps.

They slowly made their way down the steps.

The milky white skirt swayed gently with her movements.

Wipe the smooth wooden steps.

Chen Yuan stood on the smooth marble floor tiles.

He just watched quietly as she walked towards him step by step.

His eyes were full of indulgence after seeing through her little trick.

That gaze was as intense as the midday sun in early summer.

Shen Wanzhou was so hot from being roasted that she didn't even dare to lift her head.

She moved to a position where she was about half a meter away from Chen Yuan.

Their steps were firmly planted on the ground.

One more step forward, and I'd crash into that broad chest.

I was so close I could smell the faint scent of detergent on his clothes.

Chen Yuan walked over and took the velvet box from the coffee table.

It was handed to Shen Wanzhou.

The box tilted, revealing the key completely to her eyes.

"Weren't you going to give me something?"

His voice was deep and resonant, with an undisguised teasing quality.

The last syllable rose slightly, as if it had a hook attached.

"How could I dare accept it if you didn't give it to me personally?"

Shen Wanzhou's eyelashes trembled wildly, like butterfly wings ruffled by the wind.

She quickly glanced at him.

She averted her gaze as if electrocuted, staring at the shirt buttons on Chen Yuan's chest.

The delicate, white hand tentatively reached out.

He picked up the cold metal car key from the box.

My fingers trembled slightly from the force I was using.

The edge of the key was digging into her palm.

The imposing, chaebol-style speech that I had prepared in my mind.

The moment I smelled the clean, soapy scent on him, I forgot everything.

What do you mean by standing up for him, or throwing money at Lin Qinghan's beat-up Volkswagen?

Everything turned into a stammering, panicked stammer.

It felt like there was a wad of cotton stuffed in my throat.

He couldn't utter a single word of those decisive and ruthless phrases used in business negotiations.

She suddenly took half a step forward.

Close your eyes.

He slapped the heavy car key into Chen Yuan's warm palm.

Even her fingertips felt a slight itch as they rubbed against his palm.

Shen Wanzhou blushed and stuffed the car keys into Chen Yuan's hand, turning her head away from him, not daring to look at him: "This, this is your car for grocery shopping... Don't walk, it'll get tiring."