They say no woman can walk away from her husband’s phone with a smile on her face.

Song Shiran had just learned this the hard way.

The sound of running water from the bathroom, the disheveled double bed, and the lingering scent of intimacy in the air all bore witness to the passionate encounter that had just taken place.

The phone on the bedside table lit up, and Song Shiran instinctively glanced at it.

It was a message from Shen Qiao to Chi Mochen. Unable to resist, she tapped on it.

Chi Mochen’s phone had no password.

A screenshot of a hotel room layout popped up, accompanied by a message from Shen Qiao:

“Mochen, what do you think of this type?

Blushing

”

Song Shiran’s hands trembled uncontrollably.

She knew Shen Qiao was returning to the country, but she never imagined things between them had already progressed this far!

“Seen enough?”

Chi Mochen walked over, towel in hand, his face as cold as ice.

Song Shiran placed the phone back where it was, her voice trembling as she sought confirmation.

“How far… have you two gone?”

Chi Mochen tossed the towel aside casually, his gaze piercing and frosty.

"You've crossed the line."

Song Shiran's heart skipped a beat. She had forgotten—their marriage was nothing more than a transaction of convenience.

What right did she have to speak of love?

Yet, that photograph kept resurfacing in her mind, stubbornly refusing to fade.

"My husband is about to check into a romantic suite with another woman, and as his lawful wife, I’m not even allowed to ask about it?"

Chi Mochen frowned, his expression darkening.

"Look at yourself. How are you any different from those hysterical women who jump to conclusions and make a scene over nothing?"

His words, so casually uttered, crushed Song Shiran’s dignity into the ground.

It was because she cared too much about Chi Mochen that she felt this jealousy, this unease about Shen Qiao’s presence.

But in his eyes, it was nothing more than a reason to despise her.

They had just shared the most intimate of moments, yet now they lay on opposite sides of the bed, a chasm as deep as the Mariana Trench stretching between them, impossible to bridge.

In the dead of night, the vibration of a phone on the bedside table jolted Song Shiran awake.

Half-asleep, she saw Chi Mochen sit up, grab his phone, and head toward the balcony.

"Shen Qiao? Why are you calling at this hour?"

The rest of the conversation was completely muffled by the floor-to-ceiling windows, leaving no chance for eavesdropping. Song Shiran's heart sank a little deeper.

When had Chi Mochen ever shown her such tenderness and consideration? In their two years of marriage, it had always been Song Shiran who took care of his daily needs, always mindful of his feelings. Yet, Chi Mochen's prejudice against her hadn't diminished in the slightest.

Song Shiran watched the figure on the balcony, her husband's expression visibly stirred by another woman. How ironic! She turned over, deliberately facing away from the balcony. Out of sight, out of mind.

Just as she was drifting back into a hazy sleep, the blanket was abruptly yanked off her. Song Shiran blinked awake, confused. "What's going on?"

Chi Mochen stood there, phone in hand, his expression grim. "Was it you who sent those messages to Shen Qiao? And the person following her, trying to scare her—was that your doing too?"

Song Shiran struggled to sit up. "What messages? What are you even talking about?"

Her bewildered expression, in Chi Mochen's eyes, was nothing but a deliberate act of feigning ignorance.

With a cold snort, Chi Mochen tossed his phone in front of Song Shiran.

"Take a look at the mess you've made!"

Song Shiran picked up the phone and saw a screenshot of a text message sent by Shen Qiao. The content was explosive.

"You better stay the hell away from Chi Mochen! Otherwise, who knows what 'accident' might happen!"

Realizing what was going on, Song Shiran quickly tried to explain.

"I didn't send this! It's not my number, and it has nothing to do with me!"

Her triple denial was met with a scornful laugh from Chi Mochen.

"Who would be stupid enough to send such a message from their own number?! Who else but you would say these things to Shen Qiao?"

"It's only the second day, and Shen Qiao is already being followed! She was so panicked trying to escape that she accidentally fell down the stairs and broke her leg!"

Song Shiran's face turned pale, but the corners of her eyes were tinged with a faint redness.

"Is this how you see me? As someone so despicable and shameless??"

Just because his beloved had an accident and got injured, she was now the prime suspect??

Chi Mochen's icy eyes gleamed with a cold light as he mocked her.

"Song Shiran, if it weren't for your scheming and deliberately calling the reporters to block the hotel suite door, making it known to everyone, would you have been able to marry me?"

“What’s so surprising about someone like you, with a shady past, pulling these stunts on Shen Qiao now?!”

Song Shiran’s heart plummeted to the depths in an instant.

That incident had been nothing but a twist of fate, a cruel coincidence. Yet, no matter how much she had tried to explain afterward, Chi Mochen refused to believe her.

From now on, would every little thing that happened to Shen Qiao be blamed on her?

Song Shiran suddenly felt as if all the strength had been drained from her body.

Helpless. Desolate.

When heartbreak reaches its peak, even tears refuse to fall.

With a numb expression, Song Shiran got out of bed.

“Think whatever you want!”

She couldn’t be bothered to explain anymore. Even if she did, Chi Mochen wouldn’t believe her anyway.

How could she, Song Shiran, ever compete with Chi Mochen’s one true love?

Rather than living in suspicion and disdain, it was better to leave with dignity.

Song Shiran headed to the study. She couldn’t bear to share a bed with Chi Mochen anymore.

The next morning, Chi Mochen descended the stairs in a sharp suit, and the maid immediately rushed to attend to him.

"Sir, this is what Madam asked me to pass on to you."

Chi Mochen took the document envelope, opening it as he inquired, "Where is she?"

"Madam left early this morning."

Chi Mochen's eyes turned icy cold the moment he saw the contents of the envelope.

He stuffed the papers back inside and strode out with urgency.

At that moment, Song Shiran was sitting at her workstation, organizing computer files.

Suddenly, the light in front of her was blocked by a figure.

Song Shiran looked up to see Chi Mochen, his face stern, commanding, "Get in here!"

With that, he turned and entered the CEO's office, his back radiating anger.

Song Shiran stood up and followed him in at a leisurely pace.

As soon as she closed the door, a document envelope flew to her feet.

"What do you mean by this?!"

The man's voice, though restrained, was unmistakably filled with rage.

Song Shiran recognized it as the divorce papers she had left for him.

She responded with calm composure.

"Given your wealth, I don’t think it’s too much to ask for these things, do you? Even if you have no feelings for me, I’m still entitled to a share of the marital assets."

A look of disdain flickered across Chi Mochen’s handsome face.

"Your so-called love sure comes with a price tag, doesn’t it? You’ve got it all figured out."

His sarcastic tone only fueled Song Shiran’s defiance.

"I’m just taking what’s rightfully mine. Should I leave it all for Shen Qiao to enjoy? I’m not that stupid!"

Just as Chi Mochen was about to lose his temper, his phone rang. He answered it briefly, then hung up and strode toward the door.

"There’s an emergency at the film studio. I don’t have time to deal with this nonsense!"

Seeing this, Song Shiran quickly followed. As long as she hadn’t officially resigned, she was still his secretary, and she had a job to do.

They got into the car and sped toward the under-construction film studio on the outskirts of the city. As they approached an intersection, a runaway truck suddenly barreled out of nowhere, heading straight for the Bentley.

BANG—