"President Bo, Madam has gone on a date with someone again." "Yu… Yucheng, take me."
"Shen Wanci, take a good look — do you know who I am?"
The lights blazed on without warning. Shen Wanci caught a clear look at the face of the man on top of her — her pupils contracted sharply!
"Bo Jingzhou? How could it be you?!"
The man gripped her chin, his expression one of absolute coldness. "You've gotten into my bed—you should know by now that I'm not someone to be trifled with."
"That's not it, I got it wrong……"
Shen Wanci struggled to push him away, but it was already too late. A searing, tearing pain crashed over her, and she was wholly swallowed by the darkness of the night……
Afterward, Bo Jingzhou tossed her a card — Shen Wanci slapped him across the face!
He pressed the tip of his tongue to the corner of his mouth, his smile cutting and sardonic. "Isn't this exactly what you wanted, hm?"
A single sentence had utterly broken Shen Wanci — she had no room left for regret now.
"Bo Jingzhou, I don't want money—I want you to marry me!"
Three years later. The Yuting Annexe.
Shen Wanci watched the entertainment news on television — dancer Jian Weining had accidentally fallen from the stage, and the scene had descended into chaos.
A man in a sharp suit cut through the crowd, his face ice-cold, swept the injured woman up into his arms, and strode away from the scene.
It was only a profile view, but after three years of marriage, Shen Wanci could have recognized him even if he had been reduced to ash.
Last night… it was also this man, lying in bed, saying he'd be back early today.
She turned to glance at the food on the table, now gone cold — a meal she had spent the whole afternoon making.
Shen Wanci rose and walked over, dumping all the food into the trash.
Two blisters, scalded red, marked the pale back of her hand — a bitter irony set against the blank, indifferent way she served the dish.
After serving the dishes, Shen Wanci went upstairs and began to pack her bags.
She remembered that on the very day she registered her marriage with Bo Jingzhou, they had also signed a divorce agreement—valid for three years, the same length of time Jian Weining would be studying abroad.
Although there were still three months left before the agreed-upon date, Jian Weining had returned home early — so the divorce agreement could be considered officially in effect now, right?
Shen Wanci carried her suitcase downstairs, and just before leaving, she called Bo Jingzhou.
The man's impatient voice came through the receiver: "What is it?"
Listening to his cold, indifferent voice, Shen Wanci's fingers tightened around her phone, knuckles going faintly pale — as though he had already forgotten last night's promise.
But then again, how can you trust what a man says in bed?
"Have you eaten?"
Perhaps unwilling to answer her pointless question, the other end went quiet for a few seconds. "If there's nothing else, I'm hanging up. Busy."
One sentence, concise and to the point — and then the call ended.
Later, Shen Wanci left by car, having chosen the most expensive one in the garage.
Parked among that fleet of luxury cars, it hadn't seemed anything special — but the moment it hit the road, that bold, domineering presence announced itself.
She went straight to the most upscale seven-star hotel in the city, pulled out a black card, and handed it to the front desk. "Presidential suite. Book it for three months."
The receptionist smiled and accepted the black card. "Of course, madam. The total comes to fifteen million. You've reserved the Presidential Suite — should you check out early, we will charge a thirty percent cancellation fee."
Shen Wanci didn't bat an eye. "Swipe the card."
By tomorrow, she reckoned, she would no longer need to spend Bo Jingzhou's money.
The divorce agreement she had her lawyer draft called for an equal split of assets, but if Bo Jingzhou refused to agree and decided to play hardball, forcing her to walk away with nothing was not entirely out of the question.
After all, the Bo Group's legal team comprised the sharpest minds in the entire industry — there was nothing beyond their reach.
In that case, she might as well spend freely while she was still Mrs. Bo.
Anyway, if I don't spend it, it'll just end up with the mistress.
She swiped her card, and the receptionist respectfully presented the room key card. "Ma'am, please keep your room card safe!"
At that moment, the looks others cast at Shen Wanci were as though they were gazing upon a walking, gold-plated nouveau riche...
Outside the hospital's operating room.
When Bo Jingzhou saw the card transaction record, his brow furrowed slightly — not because of the amount, but because the payee was a seven-star hotel.
He was furrowing his brow, just about to call Shen Wanci, when Jian Weining was wheeled out of the operating room by the doctor.
She was still in her dance costume, her arms covered in gashes from the stage decorations that had cut her during the fall — now stitched closed, they looked even more jarring than before.
Her complexion was even paler than the blanket beneath her.
Bo Jingzhou put away his phone and walked over. "Doctor, how are her injuries?"
"There is a mild concussion, soft tissue contusions in multiple areas of the body, and minor trauma to the spine, but based on the examination results, it is not particularly serious."
Though she hadn't suffered any serious injuries, Jian Weining's face was still deathly pale — after all, she had fallen from such a great height.
She looked at the doctor and asked anxiously, "Will this affect my career in the future?"
The doctor's answer was cautious: "It depends on how the recovery progresses — we can't rule out that possibility."
Jian Weining's eyes reddened at once, but she still forced herself to look up at Bo Jingzhou. "Jingzhou, thank you for today. You should head back first — I can manage on my own…"
Before she could finish, the doctor cut her off with a grave tone: "No. Someone needs to stay and keep watch. Even a mild concussion carries risks — this is nothing to take lightly."
Jian Weining's lips moved as if she wanted to say something more, but Bo Jingzhou spoke first: "I'll stay tonight. Sleep easy."
Having known each other for so long, Jian Weining naturally understood his temperament. "Then I'll leave it to you. Only… should I give Shen Wanci a call to explain?"
The news caused quite a stir—everyone must have seen it by now.
The man was silent for a few seconds, then furrowed his brow with a hint of impatience. "No need."
Bo Jingzhou stayed at the hospital until dawn before heading home. The household staff had already begun their morning cleaning; seeing him return, one of them hurried over and said, "You're back, sir? Would you like breakfast?"
"Mm."
He hadn't slept all night. His head was throbbing now; he rubbed his temples and asked Shen Wanci offhandedly, "Where's Madam?"
"Madam must have gone to the office — I haven't seen her since I arrived."
Bo Jingzhou disliked having outsiders in the house, so the housekeeper did not live there.
The man glanced at his watch. At this hour, Shen Wanci would normally still be having breakfast — so she had booked that hotel room last night for herself?
She did not return home that night.
Bo Jingzhou's expression had grown somewhat dark, though the housekeeper hadn't noticed. When she brought breakfast in, she was also holding a document in her hand. "Sir, the property management gave this to me this morning. They said someone sent you a delivery."
His home address was kept confidential; documents were generally sent to the company, and only brought before him after his secretary had reviewed them and deemed it necessary.
As it happened, he had nothing better to do at the moment, so Bo Jingzhou didn't think much of it and simply took it, tearing it open.
The bold characters reading "Divorce Agreement" at the top of the page drained what little warmth remained from the man's already grim expression. He skimmed through rapidly, and when his eyes landed on the property division clause, a cold laugh rose in his throat. "Quite detailed, this list."
All the houses, cars, cash, and stocks under his name had been split fifty-fifty.
Bo Jingzhou: "Bold of you to dream."
The nanny standing nearby didn't dare to say a word. She had naturally seen those two bold characters — *divorce* — and right now she wished she could simply vanish on the spot.
The man held the agreement in one hand, while with the other he took out his phone and dialed a call.
From the other end of the line came a woman's voice, heavy with sleep: "What is it?"