I'm sorry, but your fiancé loves me.

It was already 8 p.m. when I got back to my house.

She tossed her car keys aside in the entryway and walked barefoot onto the temperature-controlled floor into the five-story detached villa.

Crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling, each floor has a separate dressing room and bathroom, and there are even temperature-controlled wine cellars, private cinemas and indoor swimming pools, every place is extremely luxurious.

Yun Muqian acquired this house through her own efforts, in less than a month.

Of course, it was Qin Qihan who bought it for her. He's a very chauvinistic man. Since she's with him, she'll definitely have to rely on him for material things. He's also very generous, so he gives her the best of everything with a wave of his hand.

She went into the restroom. Removing her makeup was the longest part of her day. After removing all her makeup, her face in the mirror revealed a different kind of beauty.

The plastic surgeon said that her recovery ability was better than that of ordinary people, and the postoperative scars were so faint that they were almost invisible.

But Yun Muqian knew that some scars were invisible, but they were in her heart, causing a dull ache in every sleepless night.

She put on a face mask, lay down on the sofa in the living room, closed her eyes, and waited for fifteen minutes to pass.

My phone suddenly vibrated.

She opened her eyes, picked up her phone, and saw a message from Qin Qihan's assistant:

[Ms. Yun, Mr. Qin said he would be there at 10 PM tonight. Please prepare accordingly.]

It was 10 o'clock, which seemed to be the time after Qin Qihan had finished spending time with his girlfriend and family.

She thought Qin Qihan would simply stay there tonight, but she never expected him to come here.

Yun Muqian typed two words: 【Okay】

There was still an hour and a half left. She got up and walked to the dressing table, peeled off the face mask, patted the remaining essence off her face, and reapplied light makeup. Looking at her flawless self in the mirror, she suddenly remembered a scene.

A few years ago, when she was still Jiang Xiaohua, she lived in a rented room of less than 20 square meters in an urban village.

The room was empty, with yellowed newspapers pasted on the walls and mold stains from a leak in the corner of the ceiling. There was no air conditioning in the summer and no heating in the winter. She sat on the bed wrapped in a quilt, practicing smiling in front of a small round mirror.

She knew her face wasn't pretty, so she tried to make herself look less ugly.

She practiced in front of the mirror thousands of times and finally found an angle—slightly turning her face to the side, looking down, and gently raising the corners of her mouth. This way, she didn't look so scary, and even looked a little gentle.

Later she learned that the smile at that angle was Zhou Xue's most frequently used expression.

How ironic.

After putting on light makeup, she ate a little salad for dinner. It wasn't because she was deliberately trying to lose weight, but because it was a habit she had developed over the years to maintain her figure. Her stomach had shrunk from being hungry, so she could only eat a few bites of whatever she ate.

10 o'clock, 10:30, 11 o'clock.

Qin Qihan has not come.

Perhaps he was held back by social obligations, or perhaps he had suddenly forgotten about her, but Yun Muqian did not urge him.

The crystal chandelier in the living room was still on. Yun Muqian was nestled on the sofa, clutching her phone. The screen lit up again and again, displaying only trivial notifications.

No news, no phone calls, and no explanation.

She grew increasingly sleepy, and her phone slipped from her palm, falling into the crack of the sofa.

She had a dream.

In her dream, she was still Jiang Xiaohua, wearing a faded school uniform, standing on the school rooftop.

The wind was strong, blowing her hair all over her face. Below were students on the playground, their laughter scattered by the wind, turning into a muffled noise.

Zhou Xue stood underground:

"Jump! Why aren't you jumping yet?"

"Your mother is dead, what's the point of you living!"

Then Zhou Xue started laughing. She was all too familiar with that laughter; it was like shards of glass dragging on the ground—sharp, piercing, and sending chills down her spine.

She suddenly opened her eyes.

The living room lights had been dimmed at some point, leaving only a floor lamp next to the sofa still lit, its orange glow enveloping her as if someone had deliberately left it on for her.

Someone was beside her.

She could feel the slight indentation of the sofa on the other side, the faint scent of tobacco in the air, and a familiar, cool men's cologne.

Qin Qihan.

He arrived at some point, sitting at the other end of the sofa, one leg casually crossed over the other, his posture languid, a cigarette between his fingers.

Yun Muqian's consciousness was still somewhat hazy. She blinked, trying to clear her mind, her voice hoarse:

"What time is it?"

He reached out and touched her face. "It's midnight. I was a little late tonight."

Qin Qihan was never a gentle person; in bed he was a predator, and in any situation he was the one in control. But at this moment, he gently and patiently stroked her cheek, giving her the illusion that he loved her very much.

"Why are you so sleepy?"

Because she had a nightmare, there were some tears on her face. He thought she was upset and gently wiped them away, saying, "Next time I'm late, you can just go to bed and sleep. You don't need to wait for me."

Yun Muqian turned her head to the side and rubbed her cheek against his palm. "You could have woken me up earlier."

She knew perfectly well that any pity from those in power carried an air of superiority, like giving alms to a dog. So she was never moved, and simply did what she was supposed to do.

Qin Qihan brought the cigarette to his lips and took a drag: "I wanted you to sleep a little longer, so I didn't wake you up."

What happened next was self-evident and needs no further explanation.

Exhausted and breathless, she leaned against the man's chest. This was one of the few times she was truly vulnerable. His large hands stroked her back, slowly sliding down with gentle pressure.

"You did a great job. Is there anything you want?"

Yun Muqian, with a docile demeanor, spoke after a moment of tenderness:

"I want a car."

What kind of car?

"Maybach".

A Maybach, once purchased, costs at least eight figures, enough for an average person to buy a decent house in Beijing.

"Okay," he said. "I'll buy you whatever you want."

He gave her an eight-figure car without batting an eye; this small amount of money meant nothing to him, as long as she was obedient and well-behaved.

Besides, when it comes to what women want, there are really only a few things.

However, Yun Muqian's desire for the Maybach was not out of vanity in the eyes of the world, but because she also wanted to be a part of the world of fame and fortune. She couldn't be with Qin Qihan forever, so she needed to seize the opportunity to enter the scene.

If she steps out of a Maybach, no one will ask about her background, education, or family wealth. The car will answer everything.

She needs something like this to get into this circle.

"Thank you, honey." She smiled, her voice soft and slightly coquettish at the end, "You're the best."

Qin Qihan reached out and ruffled her hair, then suddenly pinned her down beneath him:

"You still have the energy to make demands? Let's do it a few more times."

She was about to speak when her voice was blocked in her throat. She regretted making the request so soon. This reminded Qin Qihan that she still had the strength to speak, and therefore could naturally endure more.

She had considered all the details, but she hadn't anticipated that this man would be in such high spirits tonight.