My son, Phó An, whom I held in my arms, was like a burning hot piece of coal, scorching my arm and igniting the anger that had been suppressed for five years.

The air around them instantly froze.

This is the top floor of the Phó Group, the core area outside the chairman’s office.

On ordinary days, even his breath exuded a cautious and cold, metallic quality.

But now, because I barged in, everything was eerily silent.

The chairman’s new male secretary, Gu Gang, whose face was slicked back with gelled hair, hadn’t even had time to retract his smug smile before the corners of his mouth froze.

The flimsy suspension notice in his hand was blown away by the wind as I burst in, falling to the ground like a white butterfly that fluttered a few times before dying.

“Qiao Yan! You’re insane!” he shouted, his voice as sharp as a knife.

I ignored him.

In my eyes, there was only the woman sitting behind the large red wooden desk – her face as calm as still water – Chairwoman Shen Ruomai.

She is also my mother-in-law.

For the past five years, she had only existed through the words of Phó Thừa Huyền, never actually met him more than a few times – a haughty mother-in-law.

The meeting room door swung open, and inside, a group of impeccably dressed leaders turned their heads simultaneously, their eyes like headlights sweeping back and forth between me, the blushing baby in my arms, and Shen Ruomai.

Stunned, astonished, scrutinizing, mixed with a hint of smug satisfaction hidden in the depths of his eyes.

I understand all those feelings perfectly.

Because just ten minutes ago, I was also a laughingstock in their eyes.

Design department head Kieu Ngon was publicly humiliated by the chairman’s secretary for bringing her child to work, and was forced to suspend her.

“This isn’t a daycare center. Take your illegitimate child and get out.”

Those words were like a poisoned nail, piercing deep into my heart.

And she also tightly closed off her facade of forbearance, trying to preserve what little dignity Kiều Ngôn had left.

I laughed – a very soft laugh – but it carried a reckless determination.

I held Phó An in my arms, and step by step, I walked past the stunned gazes of everyone, towards the table that symbolized absolute power.

The desk was piled high with documents, each worth billions of dollars.

Without hesitation, I gently but firmly placed my burning-hot baby onto the cold wooden table.

“OH ——”

The icy coldness of the tabletop stimulated Phó An, and the sobs she had been suppressing for so long finally burst out – piercing, weak – like the cry of a wounded bird.

The sound of crying was like an invisible needle piercing the ears of everyone in the meeting room.

And it also shattered the tough facade on Shen Ruomai’s face.

I watched her pupils contract, her expression becoming blank as she spoke, her voice clear, cold, yet strangely calm.

“Chairman Shen, your granddaughter is ill.”

I pointed to Phó An, who was trembling from crying.

“Acute high fever, 39.8 degrees, has been present for half a day.”

Then, I lifted my head, looked her straight in the eye, and uttered, word by word, the words I had prepared long ago.

“My son is a talented man, raised by my mother – my husband – the CEO of the Phó Group, Phó Thừa Huyền.”

“Missing for 32 days, 4 hours, and 13 minutes.”

“I couldn’t find him, so – this mess – you handle it!”

The entire meeting room was in chaos.

“Vice Chancellor?”

“Is your husband the Deputy General Manager?”

“This child…is the son of General Manager Phó?”

Whispers and murmurs rose like rolling waves, each word carrying an expression of disbelief.

Guo Gang’s face instantly turned pale. He finally realized how hard he had gotten himself into. He rushed forward, feigning aggression but his heart racing, trying to pull me back.

“You crazy woman! What nonsense are you talking about!”

“Get out of the way!”

I unexpectedly lifted my leg, my high-heeled shoe striking hard against his shinbone.

“Ouch!” – he clutched his leg and jumped back, his eyes filled with fear.

I didn’t even glance at him, just stared coldly at Shen Ruomai.

“It’s not your place to speak here!”

“Bang!”

Shen Ruomai slammed her hand down on the table, the loud bang finally silencing the chaos in the room.

Her face darkened, and her sharp, piercing gaze swept across everyone present.

“Get out of here, all of you!”

The leaders, as if granted amnesty, hastily fled the battlefield.

Guo Heng also intended to slip away, but was stopped in his tracks by Shen Ruomai’s icy gaze.

“Brother, stay.”

The office door slammed shut, completely isolating the occupants from any prying eyes outside.

In that moment, all that remained was the faint sound of Phó An’s sobs and the heavy silence between the three of us.

Shen Ruomai stared at the child in my arms – its face flushed red from a high fever, and covered in sweat.

Her gaze was incredibly complex.

There was astonishment, indignation, scrutiny, and also a little… I couldn’t read it – something murky and incomprehensible.

I took my phone out of my pocket, didn’t unlock it, just pressed the power button to turn on the screen.

On the screen was a list of calls spanning an entire month.

The entire page has the same name – “Vice Chancellor Xuan”.

This was followed by a series of bright red messages: “Missed Call” and “Call Rejected”.

I threw the phone down in front of her.

“You could try calling him and see if he answers an unknown number.”

Shen Ruomai’s gaze lingered on the screen for three seconds, then shifted away.

Phó An’s tiny hand flailed wildly in the air, unconsciously grasping the expensive Parker fountain pen on the table.

Shen Ruomai’s body visibly stiffened.

Her gaze finally left my face and shifted to her grandson, whom she had never met.

02.

The office door was tightly shut, completely blocking out any outside noise.

A gentle breeze from the air conditioner blew, but I felt no coolness – only the burning heat of Phó An’s body in my arms, reminding me of the harsh reality.

Shen Ruomai’s overwhelming aura was like an invisible net enveloping the entire space.

She didn’t immediately get angry with me, nor did she frantically question me.

She simply stood up, walked around the large desk, and came to stand in front of me.

In the suffocating silence, she reached out, somewhat stiffly, and touched Phó An’s forehead.

The moment her fingers touched that burning hot skin, her eyebrows furrowed.

Even that small movement allowed my nerves, which had been as tense as a taut string, to relax a little.

After all, she’s still the boy’s grandmother.

“Symptoms of acute pneumonia; immediate hospitalization required.”

Without consulting me, she immediately picked up the internal phone, her voice returning to its familiar calm and authoritative tone.

“Call Dr. Tran to my office immediately, and bring the first-aid kit.”

After hanging up, she turned to look at me.

Those eyes, once the sharpest in the business world, now resembled two razor-sharp scalpels, intent on dissecting me from the inside out.

“Kieu Ngon.”

Finally, she spoke, her voice icy cold – both frigid and unyielding.

“You’re quite bold.”

I met her gaze, cradling my exhausted, almost asleep son in my arms. Though completely soaked and utterly miserable, my back remained perfectly straight.

“My liver was given to me by Vice President Cheng Xuan.”

I let out a cold laugh, my voice tinged with a weariness and hoarseness I didn’t even realize I possessed.

“If I hadn’t been driven to the brink, do you think I would willingly bring my only child here to perform a farce that would draw public scorn?”

“If I hadn’t made a big fuss today, what would my fate have been? Being kicked out of the Fu Corporation like a dog by that capable secretary. Then my son and I would truly become what he calls ‘bastards,’ forever estranged from the Fu family.”

“Chairman Shen, is this debt something your son miscalculated, or is it mine?”

Shen Ruomai’s expression grew increasingly unpleasant.

She said nothing; the only sound in the office was the heavy breathing between us as we confronted each other.

Doctor Tran arrived very quickly, bringing all the necessary equipment – ​​clearly the private doctor of the Pho family.

Upon entering, he was slightly surprised by the scene in the room, but with professionalism, he didn’t ask any further questions and immediately began a preliminary examination and brought down Vice President An’s fever.

Throughout the entire process, Shen Ruomai observed coldly, without saying a word.

As Doctor Tran was wiping down Pho An, he gently untied the red string tied around the boy’s wrist.

That’s something I asked for from the temple when my baby was one month old, hoping for her safety and well-being.

The red string was slightly worn from being worn for so long, and it had a tiny, unremarkable piece of jade attached to it.

The jade piece was very small, only the size of a fingernail, with the character “An” engraved on it in ancient seal script.

When the red string came loose, the jade pendant clattered onto the polished wooden floor, producing a clear, crisp sound.

I instinctively bent down to pick it up.

But there was someone who was even faster than me.

The moment she saw the jade piece, Shen Ruomai’s pupils contracted sharply.

She almost lunged forward, bending down to pick up the small piece of jade.

Her fingers trembled slightly.

“This thing… how did this thing… end up on him?”

For the first time, a trembling, uncontrolled tone emerged in her voice – no longer that of a high-ranking president, but simply that of an elderly woman deeply shaken.

Seeing her distraught expression, the pent-up resentment inside me finally found a place to erupt.

I calmly, even cruelly, stated a truth:

“This token, passed down to the eldest grandson of the Fu family, was personally given to Fu Chengxuan by her five years ago, instructing him to give it to his future wife.”

I stopped and stared at her, her mouth slightly agape in shock.

“And he, on the day I gave birth to Phó An, threw this jade piece onto my bedside table.”

“He said this is what Vice President An deserves, and it’s the only thing he can give.”

I’m telling her.

Shen Ruomai, the son she was always so proud of – not only was he cruel to his wife like me, but he also blatantly deceived his own mother like her.

Even five years ago, in her eyes, he had already laid out a chessboard that belonged solely to him.

As for me and my son – we are just pawns that can be sacrificed at any moment.

Shen Ruomai clutched the warm jade piece tightly in her hand, its edges digging into her palm.

She stared at me, her eyes filled with astonishment, anger, and suspicion – all finally dissolving into a deep, dark abyss.

Only then did she understand that behind this seemingly comical commotion lay a huge secret – a secret about her own son – that she had never touched upon.

A small jade piece, engraved with the character “An,” made of Hetian jade, was like a key – in that moment, it unlocked the tomb called “marriage” that I had buried for five years.

A torrent of memories surged back, cold as ice, engulfing my entire being.

Five years ago.

In an empty church, there was only me and Vice President Thua Huyen.

No guests, no blessings, even the priest was a foreign actor hired by him, uttering promises in broken Chinese.

I was wearing a white dress I bought at the mall, and he was wearing a sharp, tailored suit.

And so, in a ridiculous ceremony, we exchanged rings.

After getting married, I didn’t get to live in the famous large mansion of the Fu family as rumored, but instead he arranged for me to live in a villa far from the city center.

The villa was magnificent and beautiful, but it resembled a gilded cage, a glamorous prison.

Outwardly, we are complete strangers with no connection to each other.

I am Ji Yan, head of the design department at the architectural firm belonging to the Fu Group.

He is Fu Chengxuan, the future heir to the Fu Group, one of the most brilliant rising stars in the business world.

Our worlds are worlds apart.

He only came home occasionally, usually late at night, smelling of alcohol and other women’s perfume.

He never spoke to me, only seemed to be fulfilling an obligation, and there was not a trace of warmth in his eyes.

Often, it’s just a prolonged, chilling silence and disappearances without a trace.

I’m like a forgotten ghost in the corner, guarding this empty mansion, guarding a marriage that exists only in name.

Until I unexpectedly became pregnant.

I held the ultrasound report and, for the first time, took the initiative to call him.

When the call connected, I clearly heard a soft, alluring female voice on the other end: “Thừa Huyền, who’s calling?”

Vice President Cheng Xuan’s voice immediately turned cold: “Nothing, just a commercial call.”

My heart sank to the bottom at that moment.

When I finally waited for one of his rare late-night visits home to tell him I was pregnant, he was on a shady phone call.

He listened to me indifferently until I finished speaking, then abruptly hung up the phone right in front of me.

He turned around, his deep eyes devoid of any joy of an expectant father – only filled with cold calculation.

“If you want to have a child, then have one,” he said coldly, looking at me as if I were a nuisance.

“But remember, this child must not become a problem for the Fu family.”

At that moment, all my illusions completely crumbled.

I propose a divorce.

But he laughed – a sarcastic laugh.

“Ji Yan, do you think you can just leave?”

He threatened me by using my parents’ jobs and my younger brother’s future.

He said, “If you stay here obediently and fulfill your role as the Vice-Madam well, then both the Ji family and I will be at peace. Otherwise…”

He didn’t say anything more, but the cruel look in his eyes sent chills down my spine.

I compromised.

For ten months during my pregnancy, I went to prenatal checkups alone, enduring all the discomfort of pregnancy by myself.

On the day of delivery, when my water broke, I took a taxi to the hospital by myself.

In the delivery room, I was in pain for over ten hours, completely exhausted after giving birth to Phó An.

He didn’t show up at the hospital until the third day after the birth.

He never once held the wrinkled, hungry, crying baby.

He took a piece of ice-cold jade from his vest pocket and tossed it onto the headboard of my bed.

“This is what it deserves,” he said.

Then he turned his back and left, without a second thought.

From then on, the number of times he returned to the villa could be counted on the fingers of one hand.

From the day he was born until now, Phó An has met his father fewer than a handful of times.

For the past five years, I’ve been working like a madman, risking my life in a subsidiary of the Vice Group, starting as an ordinary designer and gradually climbing the ranks to department head – just to earn enough money for milk and living expenses, so that my son and I wouldn’t live in such poverty.

On the other hand, I was just like any other single mother, raising Phó An all by myself.

My son had a fever in the middle of the night, and I had to take him to the emergency room all by myself.

It was learning to walk, it fell, cried and called for its mother, and all I could do was heartbroken and pick it up.

Parent-teacher meetings – I’m always the only one there.

I used to think I could continue to endure this until Phó An grew up, until I had enough strength to take my child out of this gilded cage.

But I was wrong.

Fu Chengxuan’s coldness, coupled with the malice of those around him, was like two massive mountains – ultimately crushing me.

“Miss Ji, Miss Ji?”

Dr. Tran’s voice pulled me back from my painful memories to reality.

I snapped back to reality, meeting Dr. Tran’s worried gaze.

“The diagnosis is confirmed: acute pneumonia with pre-convulsive symptoms due to high fever. Immediate hospitalization is required.”

He handed the medical record, filled with medical terminology, to Shen Ruomai.

She took it, her eyes lingering on the paper for a long time.

Then she lifted her head and looked at me again.

This time, the scrutinizing and angry look in her eyes had vanished, replaced by a deep, bottomless scrutiny.

It seems she’s trying to get to know me again – her daughter-in-law in name only, whom she’s known for five years, but never truly understood.

04.

Shen Ruomai’s influence was immense.

With just one phone call, An Hoa Hospital, the most prestigious private hospital of the Pho Group, immediately prepared the best VIP ward for Pho An.

No queuing, no waiting, all procedures are given top priority.

That’s the taste of power.

Phó An lay on the pristine white hospital bed, receiving an IV drip, his pale face finally regaining some color.

I sat beside her, holding her small, cold hand tightly, and my heart, which had been constantly racing, finally found some temporary peace.

Shen Ruomai sat on a sofa not far away, holding a jade pendant engraved with the character “An” in her hand. She remained silent, her expression gloomy and difficult to decipher.

The room was so quiet that you could hear the sound of each drop of the IV drip falling.

Just then, the door to the hospital room was violently pushed open from the outside with a loud bang.

A wave of anger, thick with the smell of road dust, swept in.

Phó Thừa Huyền – my husband who had been missing for 32 days – finally appeared.

He wore a perfectly tailored suit, his hair neatly combed, but the bloodshot eyes and the murderous glint in his brows completely shattered his usual image as a distinguished businessman.

As soon as he burst in, he didn’t even glance at his frail child lying on the hospital bed.

Those eyes, like two poisoned knives, plunged straight into me.

“Ji Yan! Who gave you permission to do that?!”

He lunged at me, grabbing my wrist with such force that it felt like he wanted to crush my bones.

“Do you know what you’ve ruined today?!”

His voice was a harsh, gritted-out grunt, filled with hatred and rage.

I looked at his face—beautiful but contorted with anger—smelled the expensive perfume and the strange scent of women on him, and felt nothing but disgust.

I yanked my hand away, leaving a terrifyingly bright red mark on my wrist.

“What have I destroyed?!”

I pointed at Phó An lying on the hospital bed, and all the humiliation, resentment, and disappointment that had accumulated over the past five years—at this moment—completely exploded.

“All I know is that my son was almost ruined by an irresponsible father like you!”

“Where were you when the boy had a fever of nearly forty degrees?!”

“Where were you when she cried out for her dad?!”

“Fu Chengxuan! You’ve been gone for over a month, probably in some woman’s arms, completely forgetting you even have a child, right?!”

My questioning felt like a series of fiery slaps, hitting him straight in the face.

He was left speechless by my words, his face flushed red with anger.

“Shut your mouth!”

He yelled angrily, raising his hand to slap me.

I instinctively closed my eyes.

But the pain I was expecting didn’t come.

A well-groomed yet powerful hand gripped his wrist firmly in mid-air.

It’s Shen Ruomai.

“Enough!”

Her voice wasn’t loud, but it carried an undeniable authority.

Fu Chengxuan’s movements froze in mid-air. He saw his mother suddenly appear, and the anger in his eyes instantly turned into surprise and guilt.

“Mom? Why are you here?”

Shen Ruomai coldly pushed his hand away, her gaze falling on the hospital bed behind him.

“If I weren’t here, wouldn’t I have had to stand by and watch you lay hands on my nephew and his mother?”

“Me?” – Fu Chengxuan sounded as if he had heard an utterly ridiculous story, “Mother, don’t let this woman deceive you! She only wants to ruin me!”

He pointed at me and explained to Shen Ruomai:

“Mom, I’m negotiating a project that’s incredibly important to the company, and today is the most crucial board meeting! This woman, she’s meticulously planned everything, deliberately bringing some illegitimate child from who knows where to cause trouble at the company! She just wants to ruin my reputation!”

“Illegitimate child?”

When I heard those two words, it felt like a thousand knives were tearing my heart apart; the pain was so intense I couldn’t breathe.

I looked at the man before me – the man I had loved for many years, for whom I had borne children and raised them, for whom I had endured all kinds of suffering.

And yet, you used such cruel words to refer to your own child.

My heart, at that very moment, went completely silent.

There’s no warmth left.

I raised my head, meeting his eyes that were only focused on his own self-interest, and spoke each word clearly and decisively:

“Fu Chengxuan, let’s get a divorce.”

I said those words calmly, but they carried the weight of a thousand pounds.

Phó Thừa Huyền was stunned.

Shen Ruomai was also stunned.

The hospital room fell into a new silence.

Shen Ruomai coldly observed the tense atmosphere between us, her sharp gaze sweeping back and forth between the two of us.

After a long while, she suddenly opened her mouth and said something that surprised everyone.

“There’s no need for a divorce.”

She turned to me, her gaze no longer simply that of a mother-in-law looking at her daughter-in-law, but that of a seasoned businesswoman carefully considering a potential partner.

“But, to silence the slander, and also for the sake of the Fu family’s reputation…”

Her gaze finally settled on Phó An, who lay on the hospital bed, sharp as a knife.

“Tomorrow, you and An An, along with Thua Huyen, will go for a paternity test.”

“I want to personally take the results and shove them right in the faces of those doubting members of the board!”

My heart suddenly felt heavy.

Paternity test?

At first glance, this seems like it’s helping to clear my name, protecting my position and that of Vice President An.

But I knew very well that with someone like Shen Ruomai – a seasoned businesswoman – there would never be unconditional kindness.

This is like a test, a trial run.

It was also the first step in her plan to bring me and Phó An – two unexpected “variables” – under her absolute control.

05.

The following day, at the testing center.

Throughout the process, Vice President Cheng Xuan clearly showed signs of extreme displeasure.

He wore sunglasses and a mask from head to toe, as if I were some kind of virus that no one dared touch.

He didn’t even bother to glance at Phó An once.

As for me, I calmly held my son, who had just woken up and was still feeling exhausted.

My heart is now completely calm.

The results came very quickly – clear in black and white, cold numbers printed on paper.

“According to the DNA test results, the probability of a father-son relationship between Phó Thừa Huyền and Phó An is 99.99%.”

Vice President Cheng Xuan didn’t even bother to look, as if this outcome was within his expectations and didn’t faze him at all.

In contrast, Shen Ruomai read the report three times before carefully putting it away in her high-end Hermès bag.

That respectful posture was as if what she was holding wasn’t just a piece of paper, but a multi-billion dollar business contract.

Back to the Vice President’s Group.

The first thing Shen Ruomai did was instruct her assistant to call the new male secretary, Gu Ang, into the chairman’s office.

When Gu Heng entered, he still wore a fawning and bewildered expression.

He probably thought the chairman had called him in to reward him for his “protecting the boss” actions yesterday.

“Chairwoman Shen, did you call me?” He bowed obsequiously, a fawning smile on his face.

Shen Ruomai sat behind her desk, not even bothering to look up at him.

She simply took a copy of the paternity test results out of her handbag, like throwing a piece of crumpled paper, and tossed it straight into Gu Gang’s face.

“Open your dog eyes wide and look carefully.”

Her voice was as cold as ice, devoid of any emotion.

“Who exactly is this ‘bastard’ you’re calling?”

The piece of paper gently fell to the ground, and the smile on Gu Gang’s face instantly froze.

He stiffened and bent down to pick up the stack of documents.

When he clearly saw the contents inside, he felt as if he’d been struck by lightning, his face instantly turning as white as a sheet of paper.

“The son…the son of the Deputy General Manager?!”

His lips trembled in disbelief as he looked up at me, his eyes filled with panic and despair.

“Thump!”

His legs went weak, and he immediately knelt down in front of me, hugging my legs and weeping.

“Miss Ji… Miss Ji! No! Mrs. Fu! Mrs. Fu, I was wrong! I was blind! I spoke nonsense! I deserve to die! Please be merciful and forgive me this one time!”

He was covered in tears and snot, completely losing all his dignity.

I coldly watched him put on his act at my feet, without saying a word.

My gaze went past him and landed on Shen Ruomai, who was sitting behind her desk.

This “killing the chicken to scare the monkey” act was performed specifically for me.

Shen Ruomai caught my eye, slowly stood up, walked to stand in front of Gu Ang, and looked down at him from above.

“The Phó Group doesn’t need useless, blind people who abuse their power to bully the weak.”

Her voice was cold and decisive.

“The HR department will work with you on the ultimate consequences. Also…”

She paused, her voice carrying a chilling warning.

“You don’t need to work in this field anymore.”

That statement was tantamount to a death sentence for Guo Gang’s career.

He completely collapsed, limp as mud, and was finally dragged out of the room by two tall, expressionless guards.

The office fell into complete silence again.

Shen Ruomai turned to look at me, her sharp eyes carrying a subtle hint of goodwill – and a deeper layer of warning.

“Ji Yan, this is the first one.”

“Anyone who dares to harm my granddaughter or my grandchild – I will make them get out of here.”

Her voice paused for a moment, her eyes as sharp as a knife.

“Even… Thừa Huyền.”

I felt a chill run down my spine.

I understand perfectly what you mean.

She was telling me that she could intervene on my behalf and Phó An’s, on one condition – that we were pawns in her game, useful to the Phó family.

She might eliminate a lowly secretary for the sake of the “eldest grandson of the Phó family.”

It’s also possible that, for the benefit of the Phó Group, she was trying to teach her own useless son a lesson.

But all of that has nothing to do with “love”.

This is simply a blatant exchange between power and self-interest.

And I, along with my son – ever since stepping into this office – have been drawn into the power game of the elite, with no way out.

06.

Having obtained the “imperial sword” from Shen Ruomai, my situation in the company changed completely.

No one dared to criticize me to my face anymore; their gazes shifted from contempt to respect and curiosity.

For the time being, I moved out of that cold villa and into a luxury apartment near the company that Shen Ruomai arranged for me.

Phó An’s condition gradually improved, and his pale face regained its rosy color.

Everything seems to be developing in a positive direction.

I even developed a delusion: perhaps life would gradually become peaceful.

Until – a financial magazine cover – was like a bucket of ice water thrown over me from head to toe, chilling me to the bone.

It was in the company’s tea room.

I had just finished making my coffee and was about to leave when I inadvertently glanced at the latest issue of “Pioneer Finance” spread out on the table in the lounge area.

The cover, a huge photograph, immediately caught my eye.

The backdrop is a dazzling night scene with a sparkling champagne tower.

Phó Thừa Huyền wore a white suit, looking as handsome as a prince.

He bowed his head slightly, his eyes so gentle they seemed as if they could well up with tears, adjusting a lock of hair from the forehead of a beautiful woman wearing a pink evening gown.

That gaze…

In all five years of our marriage, I’ve never seen it.

I know that woman.

Nguyen Chi – a young lady from the Nguyen family, renowned for her excellent social skills in high society.

Next to the photo was a large, bold headline:

“A powerful alliance! The Phó and Nguyễn families have reached a multi-billion dollar strategic partnership, future son-in-law Phó Thừa Huyền paves the way for love, a grand marriage is about to be arranged!”

The article meticulously analyzes how a marriage alliance between the two families would bring enormous benefits to the commercial landscape of both sides.

Every word and phrase portrays Phó Thừa Huyền as a talented young man who tirelessly strives for both love and career.

The article also “accidentally” mentions that, to facilitate this collaboration, Phó Thừa Huyền and Nguyễn Chỉ had been “secretly” dating for six months.

Half a year…

My fingers immediately tightened their grip on the coffee cup in my hand.

The hot coffee spilled from the cup, burning the back of my hand, but I felt absolutely no pain.

I finally understand.

I finally understand why Vice President Cheng Xuan was so angry that day when I made a fuss at the company.

I didn’t have to ruin his plans.

I ruined his “love,” I destroyed the path he had meticulously laid out to climb to the pinnacle of power.

I finally understood that his disappearance for over a month wasn’t in some unknown “paradise.”

Instead, he’s with his new lover, his fiancée, working hard for their shared “career.”

That’s ridiculous.

How ironic.

Five years of a secret marriage, five years of cold violence.

I bore and raised his children for him, raising them alone, living like a shadow never seeing the sunlight.

Meanwhile, he plays the role of a lovesick man, about to marry a beautiful, wealthy woman, reaching the pinnacle of his life.

So what am I?

What is Phó An?

Have my mother and I become obstacles in his pursuit of happiness and a successful future?

A tremendous feeling of humiliation and a surge of anger at being betrayed overwhelmed me like a tsunami, instantly engulfing me.

I didn’t cry, nor did I make a fuss.

I silently picked up the magazine, my face expressionless, turned around, and walked straight to the chairman’s office on the top floor.

This time, I didn’t kick the door.

I just knocked gently on the door.

After being given permission, I pushed the door open and went inside.

Shen Ruomai was handling documents. When she saw me enter, she looked up, revealing a rare hint of gentleness.

“Is An An feeling better?”

I will not answer her question.

I simply flipped the magazine to the cover page and gently placed it in front of her.

“Chairman Shen, your future daughter-in-law… looks so beautiful in the photo.”

My voice was calm and unruffled.

Shen Ruomai’s gaze fell upon that dazzling photograph.

The gentle expression on her face instantly froze, then, little by little, became more unpleasant than I had ever seen it before.

Her expression shifted from astonishment to shock, and finally blazed with overwhelming rage.

I heard her clearly, gritting her teeth as she spat out four words:

“This unruly son!”