Song Jinchuan returned to Shangjing No. 1.
After showering, he walked out wrapped in a dark gray bathrobe.
Standing before the floor-to-ceiling window, he twisted open a bottle of ice water and took two gulps with his head tilted back.
Remembering something, he set the bottle down on the corner cabinet and turned toward the walk-in closet.
Standing before a row of drawers, he pulled one open.
Inside lay a small red booklet.
It was his marriage certificate.
He reached out, his slender fingers pinching one corner of the red booklet, picked it up, and opened it.
Liang Muxi—five years younger than him…
His gaze moved to the photo.
He could now clearly see Liang Muxi’s features.
Her features were bright and striking, a pair of peach-blossom eyes clear and luminous, a tiny mole on the bridge of her nose, and a somewhat stiff smile at the corners of her lips.
Song Jinchuan looked for a moment, then tossed the red booklet back into the drawer and pushed it shut.
It wasn’t that he was interested in this unfamiliar wife—he just wanted to see what she looked like, so he wouldn’t end up in some awkward mix-up the next time they met.
Though the chances of them meeting were slim.
He recalled that during the day at Yuguang Advertising, Liang Muxi had glanced at him several times.
Had she recognized him?
Probably.
That woman certainly adhered to the terms of the agreement—she hadn’t approached him in public.
Over the past year, Liang Muxi had also kept the agreement’s clauses in mind, never calling him or sending him messages to bother him.
She had a strong sense of contractual spirit.
His marriage to Liang Muxi had been forced upon him.
A year ago, his grandmother’s dog had accidentally fallen into the water.
That Corgi was a glutton and had gotten itself quite fat. It floundered in the water a few times before losing strength, and was about to sink when the old lady panicked.
She had slipped away from her bodyguards to sneak out.
Frantic, she begged the onlookers for help, but who would jump into water that deep to fish out a dog?
In the end, it was Liang Muxi who dove in and rescued the dog.
His grandmother had been deeply moved, singing Liang Muxi’s praises of bravery over and over at home.
He had offered Liang Muxi a sum of money as thanks.
The old lady waved her hand, saying giving money was too tacky—a girl this wonderful should be married into the family.
Her gaze locked onto him, and she pressured him into marrying Liang Muxi.
He certainly hadn’t wanted to.
He barely knew Liang Muxi; there was no affection between them. How could he possibly marry her?
But the old lady went on a hunger strike to force his hand, starving herself for three days until she lay in bed on the verge of fainting.
Afraid something might happen to her, and not wanting to live with regret, he could only agree to marry Liang Muxi.
But he discovered that this forced marriage wasn’t without its benefits.
When women came up to pester him, he’d raise his hand and flash the wedding ring on his finger, and those women would walk away looking deflated.
…
Liang Muxi was the carefree type. The moment she got home, she forgot all about her hidden husband’s return, sprawled out on the bed, and fell asleep, sleeping through the night without a single dream.
When the alarm went off, Liang Muxi sat up, stretched, turned off the alarm, and tapped the smart-control switch beside her.
The heavy curtains slowly drew open, and sunlight streamed in through the bright floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating the two-hundred-square-meter master bedroom.
Liang Muxi squinted, savoring the bliss of waking up in a luxurious house.
She had attended boarding school since kindergarten and had never had a room of her own.
For the past year, she’d been living alone in this big house, absolutely thrilled.
Her grandmother had wanted to assign her two maids, but she’d refused—she wanted to live by herself.
Throwing off the soft silk duvet, she padded barefoot to the bathroom.
While brushing her teeth, it suddenly occurred to her that Grandma had said Song Jinchuan was back in the capital.
Her movements paused.
Her brow furrowed slightly.
Song Jinchuan wouldn’t come stay at Wanbo Haoting, would he?
She worried for two seconds, then her brow relaxed.
He probably wouldn’t.
Song Jinchuan had no feelings for her and didn’t truly regard her as his wife.
Right after they got married, he’d had a lawyer bring her an agreement to sign.
The gist of it was that theirs was a marriage of convenience, with a three-year term. Once the three years were up, they would divorce.
At that point, this penthouse would be transferred to her name.
The precondition was that during those three years, she had to abide by the terms of the agreement.
To put it simply, they were partners. She couldn’t harbor any improper thoughts about Song Jinchuan, couldn’t demand that he fulfill his husbandly duties, couldn’t reveal to outsiders that they were married, and couldn’t bother him unless it was something truly important.
Yeah, the agreement was almost entirely about restricting her.
Was she angry?
Of course not—she was overjoyed!
She’d been worrying about how to adapt to being married to a stranger, but it turned out she didn’t need to adapt at all. He didn’t require her to fulfill any wifely duties.
And she got to live in a big house.
Only a fool would say no.
She felt like a pie had fallen from the sky.
As long as she followed the agreement and played her part as Song Jinchuan’s hidden wife, once the three years were up, they’d divorce, and this penthouse would be completely hers.
She’d only learned of Song Jinchuan’s identity later—the sole son of the eldest branch of the Song family, one of the capital’s top-tier dynasties, groomed as the future heir of the family empire.
A man of such privilege truly wasn’t suited for her. Like abalone and sea cucumber, she couldn’t stomach them—they’d give her indigestion.
Her stomach was made for things like stir-fried pork with peppers and clay-pot chicken.
The Song family’s holdings were countless, and Song Jinchuan surely had no shortage of residences. He probably wouldn’t come stay at Wanbo Haoting.
Having analyzed the situation, Liang Muxi set her mind at ease.
She tidied herself up and headed out to work, full of energy.
Arriving at the company, she clocked in.
She noticed a few colleagues huddled together, chattering excitedly about something.
Liang Muxi didn’t join the crowd. She sat down at her workstation, set down her cloth bag, and turned on her computer.
Just as she opened the office software, someone tapped her on the shoulder.
She turned around—it was Yang Zhenzhen from the neighboring desk, who had joined the company around the same time as her.
They were similar in age and interacted the most on a daily basis.
Yang Zhenzhen said excitedly, “Muxi, you weren’t in the office yesterday afternoon—you missed your chance to see a handsome guy.”
Liang Muxi wasn’t interested in handsome men. She was a married woman now.
“It’s just a handsome guy. There are plenty online. If you want to look, just pull them up—no need to spend money.”
Yang Zhenzhen: “The ones online can’t compare to yesterday’s guy. God, I’ve never seen a man that handsome. That aura was incredible—the cream of the crop.”
“I heard he’s from Chengxi Group, here to evaluate our company. The boss, the vice president, and Manager Wang accompanied him the whole way, being extremely careful.”
Chengxi Group?
Wasn’t that the Song family’s company?
Liang Muxi looked thoughtful. After a moment of silence, she looked up and asked, “Is our company going to cooperate with Chengxi Group?”
Yang Zhenzhen: “I heard the boss was pulling strings to try to land Chengxi Group’s advertising business. The Chengxi Group people came to evaluate our company.”
Just an evaluation—nothing was set in stone yet.
Even if Yuguang landed Chengxi Group’s advertising business, someone as insignificant as her would never get to see Song Jinchuan.
Liang Muxi put her worries to rest once again.
After a busy day, she worked overtime for over an hour past quitting time.
It was already eight o’clock when she returned to Wanbo Haoting.
She took the elevator up, entered the password to unlock the door, and saw the cool, handsome man sitting on the sofa.
She froze.
Her mind didn’t register it at first, and the words slipped out: “It’s you—why are you in my house?”
It was the cold, handsome guy she had bumped into yesterday.