Sang Wan slept until she woke naturally, rising at 10 a.m. When she opened her phone, several WeChat messages awaited her:
Xu Yiyi: “Darling, how did the interview go yesterday? What’s the plan today? Let’s go for hotpot! And don’t forget to bring me the new clothes you bought. Hehe…”
Lu Jinnian: “Have you set off yet?”
Su Baohui: “Sang Wan, where are you?”
She replied to Xu Yiyi, suggesting they meet tomorrow. Then, putting her phone aside, Sang Wan washed up, ate breakfast, and took a taxi straight to the villa district in the east of the city.
Since taxis weren’t allowed inside, she got out at the gate and walked along the tree-lined path.
Moments later, a black Mercedes drove in. Lu Jinnian, chatting on the phone with Lin Zhaozhao, caught sight of a familiar figure in the distance. For a moment, he felt as if he were back on the university campus. That leisurely silhouette under the shade was…
“Sang Wan!!”
The screech of brakes echoed his shock. He slammed the door shut and strode over, face dark with fury. “You came dressed like this?”
White chiffon blouse. Blue jeans. White sneakers.
Sunlight poured down on her fair complexion, her face bare of makeup. Most glaring of all—her hands were empty.
“Where’s the gift?” he roared.
“None,” Sang Wan replied coolly. “She’s your mother. Filial piety is your duty as a son, isn’t it? At worst, you have secretaries—one word from you and they’d handle it perfectly.”
“You…” His face twisted.
Sang Wan sneered. “Lu Jinnian, we’re already divorced! The only thing missing is the certificate. I came today out of respect—for you, for your mother. After all, I called her ‘Mom’ for so many years.”
She didn’t want Lu Jinnian to think she was putting on an act again—pretending to attend the birthday banquet as a cover, when in truth she couldn’t bear to divorce him. Even more, she didn’t want her peaceful life shattered by Su Baohui’s relentless harassment afterward. If not for the sake of keeping the peace, Sang Wan wouldn’t have come at all today. She turned to leave.
But Lu Jinnian caught her wrist, pulled open the car door, and pushed her inside. The Mercedes roared forward, stopping minutes later at Lu Zhiyi’s house. He quickly called Lu Zhiyi and instructed the servants to open the gate. Then, from the trunk, he pulled out a gift box and tossed it into Sang Wan’s arms.
Pointing at the villa door now ajar, Lu Jinnian ordered coldly: “Go in and change. You can afford to lose face—I can’t!”
Though it was only Su Baohui’s fifty‑third birthday, held at home, plenty of relatives and friends from the upper circles had come.
The thought of Sang Wan appearing before them in plain clothes, bare‑faced, stirred his irritation all over again.
Too tired to argue, she only wanted to get through the day quietly and then part ways.
Sang Wan carried the box inside. She didn’t even go upstairs to the guest room—just straight into the ground‑floor bathroom. Inside the box lay a satin gown in lake‑blue. She couldn’t tell if the dressmaker had been overly thoughtful, or if it was Lu Jinnian’s intention—because tucked inside was also a full set of white lace lingerie. The fabric was so scant it seemed a mere touch could snap the fragile straps.
Once, Sang Wan might have blushed at his little indulgences, embarrassed yet faintly romantic. But now, she no longer deceived herself into thinking it was prepared for her. She left the lingerie untouched, slipping only into the gown and heels.
The downstairs bathroom was meant for the servants. Someone had left a lipstick behind.
Sang Wan dabbed a little on her fingertip and brushed the lipstick lightly across her lips. From entering to leaving, it took only a few minutes.
Outside, by the Mercedes, Lu Jinnian was smoking impatiently. When he turned his head, his gaze froze. That fleeting sense of déjà vu he’d felt at her back just moments ago rose again in his chest. For an instant, it was as if he had truly returned to the past—to the days when he and Sang Wan were in the throes of love. It had been so long since Lu Jinnian had seen her looking this radiant, this breathtaking.
Back in university, Sang Wan had been the campus beauty—pure and fresh. After marriage, her beauty had turned dazzling. Black for allure, white for innocence—whatever color she wore, it carried its own charm.
During her year at the Lu Corporation, male employees from other departments would find excuses to linger around the project office, just to catch a glimpse of her and try their luck asking for her WeChat. In the end, he’d had to announce that she was his wife to put an end to their coveting. Later, with pregnancy and motherhood, Sang Wan left the workplace and no longer had occasions to dress up. These past years of marriage, with him gone early and home late, she had always been the plain‑faced housewife. So much so that Lu Jinnian had forgotten—Sang Wan was stunning.
The lake‑blue hue suited her perfectly, setting off her fair skin and graceful neck. The off‑shoulder gown revealed her exquisite collarbones. She wore no jewelry, yet the brightness of her eyes and the elegance in her every gesture seemed like the finest adornments, making her appear all the more poised and graceful.
The only flaw was the fit—the waist was an inch too loose.
This gown had been ordered for Lin Zhaozhao.
Next month’s municipal bidding conference, Lin Zhaozhao would accompany him, and this dress had been prepared for that occasion.
In his mind flickered the image of Lin Zhaozhao trying it on, coquettish and charming. Before him now was Sang Wan, descending the steps like a star on the runway—radiant and elegant. Two images, side by side, not yet merged into a single comparison.
Buzz.
The sound of Sang Wan opening the backseat door snapped Lu Jinnian out of his thoughts. He came back to himself, tossed away the cigarette, and got into the car.
The car turned around and stopped a few minutes later in front of the neighboring villa.
One glance was enough to tell there was a celebration—cars lined the entrance, the iron gates stood wide open, and flowers were everywhere.
Laughter and cheerful voices spilled out from the villa.
Sang Wan stepped down, lifting her skirt hem.
Lu Jinnian rummaged through the trunk, carefully picking out two gift boxes to carry in his hands.
In truth, gifts weren’t necessary.
All he had to do was tell Yang Yan to arrange for a Michelin chef to prepare a feast, invite a few close friends, and Su Baohui would be delighted. Whether he brought presents or not, Su Baohui never cared. He did all this—for Sang Wan.
Casting her a fierce glare, Lu Jinnian moved forward and wrapped an arm around her waist.
Sang Wan shifted away. He followed.
She moved again. He followed still.
Her heels were a size too big, nearly twisting her ankle.
At last, Sang Wan gave up. She jabbed her elbow hard into his side, making him wince and withdraw his arm. She stepped back half a pace and followed him into the villa.
“Jinnian’s back…”
“Xiaomu, look who’s here!”
…
The living room was crowded. Sang Wan didn’t even catch the faces before her ears picked up that name—Xiaomu. Instinctively, she looked over. There he was, perched on a high stool at the kitchen island, tablet in hand.
Their eyes met.
But Lu Xiaomu’s face showed no joy. His gaze stretched past Lu Jinnian, expectant, searching for someone at his side.
No one was there.
The servants had already shut the door—no one else was coming in.
The light in Xiaomu’s eyes dimmed. He lowered his head, attention falling back to the tablet.
Sang Wan knew. He was looking for Lin Zhaozhao. A dull ache pressed against her heart. She turned her eyes away.