Everyone in Hong Kong knows that the man who runs the Fu family, Fu Lian, is famed for being gentle as the moon, a true gentleman. 　　Only Wen Baozhu could personally feel the meanness and madness hidden beneath his glamorous façade. 　　Countless days and nights of entangled indulgence nearly drowned her. 　　Until she heard his cold sneer: "You are my deceased brother’s wife. Your greatest value is to sleep with me and leave me an heir." 　　"I love that you are helpless and alone; I hope you have some self-awareness." 　　Wen Baozhu immediately saw the truth and turned to follow another man. 　　On the night of the engagement banquet, bodyguards surrounded the entire hall; suddenly someone cried out—the bride was gone. 　　Outside the hotel. 　　On the hood of a dark blue sports car was the imprint of a woman’s hand. 　　Wen Baozhu gritted her teeth and turned to glare at the man behind her. 　　"Mr. Fu, please conduct yourself with some decency." 　　The proud man above everyone now leaned down, pressing against her earlobe, his voice hoarse and out of control: "You want so badly to be a rich family’s young mistress—why didn’t you tell me sooner?" 　　"Wen Baozhu, this pearl of yours can only belong to me." 　　Wen Baozhu enunciated each word: "Mr. Fu, Hong Kong is hardly short on wealthy families. I have no one to rely on—whoever I choose will be more than enough."