Chapter 1: Betrayal

Shen Zhou had cheated.

Tang Yuan had been married to him for two years, yet she had never seen him lose control in public. Now, in the dead of night, he held a girl in his arms, entwined with her recklessly in a dim, deserted alley.

The girl was frail, like a little white flower blooming out of a muddy lotus pond. Her legs wrapped around his waist, her arms clinging to his shoulders as she wept.

Tang Yuan sat in her car, leaning her back slightly against the seat. Half an hour before, someone had sent her this address, and she thought she must have misread it.

It was close to the marital home she shared with Shen Zhou. If he were truly going to cheat, surely he would choose a pristine presidential suite.

Shen Zhou was a titan of commerce, an aristocrat for generations, meticulous in everything he ate, wore, and used. Tang Yuan never imagined that one day he would be entangled with someone in such a filthy place.

Those mottled floorboards.

Those walls covered in moss.

It did not suit his status.

Was it love, rising from nowhere?

She found it laughable. Then what did that make her, his wife in name only?

She didn’t wait for them to finish, nor did she step forward to catch them in the act. She kept her dignity; it wasn’t worth making a public scene over something like this.

When she married him two years ago, he told her he would never love her—his heart belonged to someone else.

She had insisted on marrying him, abandoning her blossoming career, wanting only for him to notice her devotion.

For two years, she cared for him well. She knew he had stomach troubles, and prepared every dinner with care, arranged his clothing meticulously each day.

Everything about him, she never delegated to others.

But the man she treasured so carefully would, in such a filthy place, shed his noble identity like a beast.

Tang Yuan felt as if she’d been slapped awake.

It hurt enough, and was humiliating enough.

But now, there was work to be done.

She would certainly divorce him.

She drove home. Her car’s headlights swept by, and Shen Zhou, lost in his passion, froze for a moment, looking up.

He couldn’t be sure whose car it was, but it was heading toward the villa district where their marital home stood.

A strange unease stirred within him.

“Brother Zhou, I’m still so upset…” The little flower in his arms kept pleading for his affection, but he had sobered, slowly straightening his sleeves.

“Brother Zhou?”

“Let’s leave it at this for tonight. The company has several major projects coming up—I can’t afford rumors of marital trouble at such a crucial time.”

“I understand, Brother Zhou. I’m not in a hurry.”

Shen Zhou raised his hand, stroking her hair. Her pitiful demeanor was so much like Tang Yuan’s years ago.

*

Tang Yuan had just stepped out of the bathroom when the door to the master bedroom was pushed open.

Shen Zhou’s suit draped over his elbow, his brows arched slightly. His features were sharply defined, his nose high, his eyes deep, the corners of his long, upturned eyes giving him a distant, aloof arrogance.

The white collar of his shirt was smeared with the pink lip gloss left by the little flower. Tang Yuan had never liked lip gloss; she always thought it made the mouth feel sticky.

But Shen Zhou seemed to like it very much.

She dried her hair as she walked toward the bed.

Shen Zhou’s gaze lingered on the curve of her waist, barely visible, as he asked, “When did you come back?”

“In the afternoon.”

He breathed a sigh of relief.

Through the window glass, Tang Yuan watched as he tossed aside his tie and unbuttoned his shirt with one hand.

The back of his shirt was dirty. He explained carelessly, “I played golf with someone tonight.”

“In that case, you must’ve gotten into the hole several times. Congratulations.”

Shen Zhou’s brow furrowed, discomfort flickering across his face.

He stepped closer, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Are you angry? Didn’t I tell you when we got married that I didn’t love you? If it really bothers you, go find someone to cheat with yourself.”

Tang Yuan said nothing. Her heart felt as if it were bound tightly with wire, pain radiating in fine threads.

She had known Shen Zhou for many years. When the Tang family first took her in, she had already met him.

She never imagined that after so many years of affection, after two years of marriage, it would all come down to a sentence like this.

“Mm,” she answered casually.

Shen Zhou chuckled softly, leaving a kiss on her cheek.

He didn’t believe she meant it. Tang Yuan loved him, loved him so fiercely and deeply—she would never cheat.