In the past, Su Qing had brushed her off with "Just a little longer" or "Maybe he'll change." But tonight, that line—"Your life matters too"—pierced her numb nerves like a needle. She looked at the woman in the mirror, wearing a silk nightgown but looking utterly drained, and for the first time, she saw clearly: this wasn't the life she wanted. She was trapped in a gorgeous cage named "love," and that name had never belonged to her.
The storm came faster than she expected.
The next day at Lu's Group's planning department, whispers in the pantry pricked her ears. "Did you hear? The president's white moonlight is back!" "What about Su Qing? She was just a stand-in anyway..."
Su Qing steadied her hand holding the water cup, but her heart plummeted. Weiwei was back—the woman she'd never met, but who had shaped her entire marriage was finally making her entrance.
Her department manager called her into his office soon after, looking embarrassed. "Su Qing, about the 'Star Shine Center' project you've been handling... The president instructed that it be transferred to the newly established 'Weiwei Studio.' Could you sort out the materials and deliver them this afternoon?"
The "Star Shine Center" was a project she'd slaved over—countless all-nighters, running around the city for research, polishing every detail with her own hands. She'd hoped it would prove she wasn't just a trophy wife relying on Lu Tingxiao, but now, with a single sentence, he was giving it away as a welcome gift to his white moonlight.
"Why?" her voice was dry, like sandpaper rubbing together.
The manager avoided her gaze. "The president said... Ms. Lin just got back and needs a good project to make her mark. This one... fits her style better."
Fits Weiwei's style, so it doesn't fit hers.
She didn't argue. She went back to her desk and sorted the materials with a blank expression. The sound of her keyboard tapping was loud in the quiet office. Colleagues glanced at her from time to time—sympathy, curiosity, maybe even a hint of schadenfreude. She held her head high, bottling up all her emotions. From this moment on, she had no more illusions about this marriage.
That afternoon, Su Qing stood outside the hotel conference room, holding a heavy box of documents. She took a deep breath and pushed the door open. Both Lu Tingxiao and Lin Weiwei were there. He was wearing a more casual gray suit, his profile softer than usual. Lin Weiwei had on a beige suit, her long hair styled gently. She was looking up at him, speaking with a perfectly sweet smile—just like the photo.
When Lin Weiwei saw Su Qing, a flash of scrutiny crossed her eyes, followed by an even warmer smile. "You must be Ms. Su? I've heard Tingxiao mention you often. Thank you for your hard work."
Su Qing didn't respond. She just placed the box on the table. "Mr. Lu, all the project materials are here."
Lu Tingxiao turned around, his gaze lingering on her face for a second, cold and unfeeling. "Good. Weiwei, check if anything's missing."
Lin Weiwei flipped through a few pages casually, then looked up with seemingly genuine praise. "Tingxiao, Ms. Su did such a thorough job on this plan—the foundation is really solid."
Su Qing's heart skipped a beat. This was her blood, sweat, and tears—she'd hoped for even a sincere word of recognition.
But Lu Tingxiao only said faintly, "The framework is okay, but the details and creativity are lacking. You can refine it now that you're here."
One sentence negated all her efforts. And Lin Weiwei only had to stand there to take over her work.
Her heart felt like it was being squeezed by a cold hand, a dull ache spreading through her chest.
"We're having a welcome dinner for Weiwei tonight—you come too," Lu Tingxiao said, as if just remembering she existed, his tone an unshakable order.
Su Qing looked up at him, repeating clearly, "I'm not going."
Lu Tingxiao frowned, clearly unaccustomed to her defiance. "You're Mrs. Lu—you have to be there for occasions like this."
"Mrs. Lu?" Su Qing repeated the title, finding it bitterly ironic. "The Mrs. Lu who has to copy someone else's preferences, who has to hand over her hard work to someone else? Lu Tingxiao, what exactly am I to you?"
Her voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the quiet conference room. Lin Weiwei's expression shifted subtly. She gently tugged at Lu Tingxiao's sleeve. "Tingxiao, don't be like this. Ms. Su must be in a bad mood..."
Lu Tingxiao's face darkened, his tone threatening. "Su Qing, don't make me say it again. Seven o'clock, hotel ballroom. Otherwise, you know what will happen."
The consequences. Her father's company was still in Lu's hands, like an ant that could be crushed at any moment.
She looked at his handsome but cold face, and the last faint spark in her heart was snuffed out with a soft "poof."
"Fine," she heard herself say flatly.