Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Qi Zhaoyuan and I have been broken up for three years.

During these three years, I’ve become an expert at two things.

One is selling wine to the most difficult clients.

The other is pretending that I stopped loving him a long time ago.

Unfortunately, tonight, both of those acts are on the verge of falling apart.

His engagement party is being held downstairs.

The crystal chandeliers are blindingly bright, and the champagne tower looks colder than a human heart. Half of Haicheng’s elite social circle is here.

As a supplier representative, I was pushed by my boss to deliver a contract and play the part of the smiling professional.

To put it bluntly, I’m here to serve as a respectable backdrop for the client.

Who would have thought the client would be my ex-boyfriend?

And not just any ex, but the one I dumped in the most humiliating way possible.

“Talk to me.”

Qi Zhaoyuan grips my chin, his voice low, as if suppressing a fire.

He’s wearing a black suit today, his lapel pin gleaming coldly. Even standing in this cramped fire escape, he still has that lethal presence.

Tall, cold, with a piercing gaze.

Standing this close, even the faint scent of cedarwood on him hasn’t changed.

I used to be a sucker for this.

The moment he got close, no matter how stubborn my mouth was, my legs would lose their strength.

Now, I can only take a half-step back, the small of my back pressing against the door as I maintain a professional smile.

“What would you like to hear, Mr. Qi?”

“I want to hear you say you regret it.”

I almost laugh out loud.

This man is still the same-so proud it’s as if he was born without the ability to lose.

“Then you might have to wait a few more years.”

He stares at me, as if trying to find a single crack in my facade.

“Peng Qingchuan, did you really come here just to deliver a contract?”

“Why else? It certainly wasn’t to see you in your engagement outfit.”

“I’m wearing a suit.”

“I’m nervous. My vision is blurry.”

I’ve always loved bickering with him.

The more panicked I am, the more I talk back.

Qi Zhaoyuan likely knows this too.

He suddenly leans down, his breath brushing past my ear, so close it makes my heart go numb.

“Your hands are shaking.”

I slap the folder against his chest, forcing myself to snap out of that numbness.

“Remember to sign the contract after you’ve read it. There’s a crowd downstairs waiting to wish you a long and happy marriage. I won’t delay your pre-wedding night procedures any further.”

He says, “Mention that one more time, and I really might make you cry today.”

I look up at him.

The corners of his eyes are red. He doesn’t look like a man celebrating a happy occasion; he looks like he could tear this entire banquet apart at any second.

But so what?

Three years ago, when he begged me not to leave, I didn’t look back.

If it’s my turn to suffer today, I deserve it.

I push past him and head downstairs.

The moment my feet touch the carpet of the banquet hall, I see a woman in a silver-gray gown standing by the stage.

Tang Shuyi.

The eldest daughter of the Tang Family, a famous “clear-headed beauty” in Haicheng.

She is also the woman everyone is calling the bride-to-be tonight.

She looks over at me, holding a wine glass. Her gaze doesn’t waver, and she even gives me a small smile.

That smile isn’t sharp or cold.

It’s the look of someone who knows everything.

My heart sinks for some inexplicable reason.

My boss sidles over and whispers urgently, “Qingchuan, did you get Mr. Qi’s signature? If we finalize the order tonight, your quarterly bonus will double.”

I give a noncommittal hum.

He adds with a sleazy grin, “Why is your face so pale? You didn’t get mesmerized by Mr. Qi, did you?”

I pivot on my high heels and stomp on his foot.

“Don’t worry. These days, I only love money.”

I said that once before, three years ago.

After I said it that time, Qi Zhaoyuan stood in the rain with a fever in the middle of the night, staring at me as if I were a complete stranger.

Tonight, I say it again.

He is standing behind the second-floor railing and happens to hear it.

Across the hall filled with lights, he looks down at me coldly, without a hint of a smile on his lips.

I suddenly realize something.

Some wounds may look like they’ve scabbed over.

But in reality, they still hurt the moment you touch them.