Xia Shang’s parents had passed away in an accident ten years ago, and Jiang Zhou’s background in this world was that of an orphan. Consequently, neither of them had any close elders to consult.
This meant they could skip the “meet the parents” phase entirely. When they said they were getting married, they meant now. After heading back to grab their documents, the entire process—photos, registration, and receiving their certificates—took less than half an hour.
Looking at the red booklets in her hand, Xia Shang felt a rare sense of daze, as if reality hadn’t quite caught up yet. Only two days ago, she was researching how to propose and buy a ring; how did she end up married today? It felt like they had skipped a dozen steps in between.
“As for the wedding, when should we hold it?” Xia Shang asked. She felt like she hadn’t done enough for Jiang Zhou yet. “Should we start planning now?”
“The wedding isn’t urgent,” Jiang Zhou replied. Sometimes she valued ritual; other times, she couldn’t care less. In her mind, she was certain Xia Shang would walk through life with her until the end. A wedding was just a ceremony to make others eat a big serving of “dog food” (public displays of affection).
“But you can start arranging the honeymoon,” Jiang Zhou added with a grin. Rituals could be skipped, but pleasure was non-negotiable.
Xia Shang’s lips curled upward. “Alright.”
…
There wasn’t a massive shift in how they interacted after marriage, with one exception: Xia Shang began to openly display her possessiveness. Before, her special treatment of Jiang Zhou was subtle—ordering assistants to handle things behind the scenes. Now, she laid everything out in the open. Whether arriving at or leaving work, she held Jiang Zhou’s hand, and her attitude toward employees became significantly warmer.
This sudden change in their ice-cold boss shocked the staff. Sharp-eyed employees noticed the rings on their fingers and their eyes nearly popped out of their heads.
“President Xia, are you and President Jiang… lovers?” a bold employee dared to ask.
“Yes,” Xia Shang replied without hesitation. “To be more precise, Jiang Zhou is my wife. We are already married.”
It was rare for Xia Shang to speak so much to a subordinate, but she made sure the relationship was crystal clear.
“W-Wife?” The employee’s jaw dropped. Jiang Zhou was fairly certain the person could have swallowed a whole egg—a hard-boiled one at that.
News travels fast among employees, especially gossip regarding leadership. Within an hour, the entire Huashan Group knew: their CEO and the head of Shangzhou Games were married.
“I knew it! I guessed it the moment President Xia funded Shangzhou! ‘Shang’ is obviously for Xia Shang, and ‘Zhou’… well, it’s a homophone for Jiang Zhou’s (congee)!”
“Damn, I never made that connection!”
“They probably thought ‘Shangzhou’ (Business-Zhou) sounded better than ‘Shang-Congee’!”
“I’m swallowing this ‘dog food’ whole!”
The gossip began to lean toward high-society drama until a company-wide announcement was released.
“I take back everything! President Xia and President Jiang are true love! May they be happy for a hundred lifetimes! Give birth to a son soon!”
“Calm down, they’re both women! But wait… did my eyes glitch? Double base salary for three consecutive months?! If this is the power of love, I hope they get married every three months!”
The announcement applied to both Huashan and Shangzhou. The bonuses were paid directly from Xia Shang’s personal account. Every employee was included—even Lu Shen, who still held a nominal Vice President title at Huashan.
…
“What a pair of wretched women! Xia Shang has lost her mind, making such a spectacle!” Lu Shen spat, his voice tinged with a jealousy he didn’t even recognize.
Why did a cold woman like Xia Shang have someone like Jiang Zhou to love her? And Jiang Zhou was actually capable; she had built a game empire from scratch. It was infuriating. He looked at Bai Xiaorou. Compared to when they first met, his affection had dwindled. She was his childhood savior, yes, but compared to Jiang Zhou, she felt… lacking.
“Ah Shen, is there news from the company?” Bai Xiaorou asked timidly. Lu Shen had been losing his temper more and more lately.
“Xia Shang and Jiang Zhou are married,” Lu Shen said, exhaling slowly.
“Married?” Bai Xiaorou was stunned. She couldn’t help but think of her own situation. Lu Shen liked her, but his parents would never accept her.
“Xiaorou, I have things to handle. I’ll be very busy for a while,” Lu Shen said, patting her head. “Stay here and wait for me, okay?”
“Okay…”
…
With less than three months left on the 200-million-dollar bet, the marriage was seen by outsiders as a sign of absolute confidence. Xia Shang wouldn’t bind her entire net worth to someone without assets unless she was certain of a win.
Three days later, Shangzhou Games hit a crisis. Jiang Zhou received a call: someone was trying to jump off the building.
“Who is it?” The smile vanished from Jiang Zhou’s face. So this was Lu Shen’s move.
“It’s Liu Tao from the new project team. He’s on the roof. We’ve called the police, fire department, and ambulance. They’re on their way,” HR reported.
Xia Shang was in a meeting, so Jiang Zhou didn’t disturb her. She grabbed her coat and rushed to the roof of the building across the way.
“Stay back! I want to see Jiang Zhou! Bring her here now!” Liu Tao stood on the edge, outside the railing, his hands gripping the bars. One step back and he’d be gone.
“Liu Tao, don’t do this! President Jiang is coming!” HR was frantic. She had been watching the staff closely. Liu Tao seemed happy when the bonus was announced; why this sudden suicidal turn?
Five minutes later, Jiang Zhou arrived. She looked at Liu Tao with an eerily calm expression.
“I heard you were looking for me?” Jiang Zhou asked, her eyes narrowed. She had traced a 5-million-dollar payout from Lu Shen to a virtual account. Was he being paid for this?
“Jiang Zhou, you forced me into this! Even in death, I won’t let you go!” Liu Tao cried out with resentment.
“I forced you?” Jiang Zhou shrugged. “I’ve barely been in the office lately. How exactly did I force you?”
“You forced us to work 996!” Liu Tao was accused.
“If I recall, since World launched, we moved to a 965 schedule (9-6, 5 days),” Jiang Zhou countered, catching a glimpse of someone filming with a phone in her peripheral vision. “I never forced anyone to stay. If you couldn’t handle the pressure, you could have asked for a transfer. You didn’t need to jump.”
“Liu Tao, calm down. As long as you’re alive, there’s hope,” a police officer urged.
“Hope?” Liu Tao laughed bitterly. “There’s only hope if I die!”
He thought of the phone call he received. If he jumped, his mother lived. If he didn’t, he’d be ruined and his mother would be kicked out of the hospital. It was a choice between a quick death and a living hell.
“I want to talk to Jiang Zhou alone! Everyone else, get back!”
Jiang Zhou looked at the officer, who signaled for her to cooperate while they prepared the rescue. She stepped forward until she was only three steps away. The crowd retreated ten meters.
“If I’m not mistaken, Lu Shen put you up to this, didn’t he?” Jiang Zhou said quietly, cutting straight to the chase before he could speak. “I just want to tell you: whatever Lu Shen can do, I can do better.”
“Think carefully before you act.”
“If it’s for money, I can give you more than he can. But if you’re afraid of his threats…” Jiang Zhou’s mouth curled into a chilling smile. “I promise you, if you jump off this building, I will treat you—and everyone you care about—with a cruelty that far exceeds his.”
Jiang Zhou didn’t believe in moral persuasion. She believed in leverage. If Liu Tao had a brain, he’d realize that jumping wouldn’t end his troubles—it would only invite a more dangerous enemy.
Liu Tao’s face turned pale. For some reason, he knew Jiang Zhou wasn’t joking. Jumping now felt far more dangerous than betraying Lu Shen.