The skyscraper pierced the clouds, its peak lost to sight. Jiang Lili had to crane her neck back so far she thought it might snap. She'd never set foot in the Xingyun Group headquarters before. She had always known the Jiang family was no match for the Fus. But standing before this colossal building, watching the endless stream of employees flowing in and out, she understood the truth: it wasn't that they were no match; they were simply in different leagues. Forget the now-declining Jiang family; even at its peak, it couldn't have held a candle to the Fu empire. The company was filled with sharp, professional women. Even the receptionists wore immaculate business attire and flawless makeup. In an environment like this, it was no wonder Fu Xingchen looked down on a mere housewife like her. Even though she’d become one *for him*. Jiang Lili pressed her lips together, an indescribable wave of inadequacy washing over her, making her breath catch in her throat. She found a quiet corner and called Sun Ting. “Mrs. Fu.” “Assistant Sun, I’m downstairs. Could you please…” Jiang Lili had no intention of going in; she just wanted Sun Ting to take the items up to Fu Xingchen. But before she could finish, Sun Ting cut her off. “I’m in a meeting. I’ll have someone come down for you right away.” Jiang Lili opened her mouth to protest, “No, I just…” The line went dead. She stared at her phone, stunned. Less than two minutes later, Sun Ting’s assistant appeared and respectfully invited her upstairs. “You can just give this to Fu Xingchen for me,” Jiang Lili said, handing over the file and the soup container. “Miss, we’re not authorized to touch documents intended directly for Mr. Fu. Please, take it up yourself,” the assistant said with an apologetic smile, ushering her inside. Jiang Lili had no choice but to follow. — In the CEO’s office, Fu Xingchen, fresh out of a meeting, looked thoroughly irritated. His brow was knitted tightly as his long, elegant fingers yanked at his tie. “Mr. Fu, your wife is here,” Sun Ting said as he followed him in, placing a file on the desk. Fu Xingchen froze. The tight lines of his brow softened slightly, a flicker of ‘I knew it’ in his deep eyes. He knew it. Jiang Lili would grasp at any olive branch, desperate to find her way back to him. “Should we postpone the meeting in ten minutes?” Sun Ting inquired. Fu Xingchen considered it for a moment. “Push it back half an hour.” Whatever the reason, he couldn’t forgive Jiang Lili’s bid for peace so easily. He needed to take her down a peg, to make sure she wouldn't pull a stunt like this again. Ten minutes wouldn't be nearly enough for that. “Understood.” Sun Ting immediately took out his phone to notify the departments of the delay. Jiang Lili had come up in the public elevator with the assistant, stopping at nearly every floor as people got on and off. It took some time to finally reach the top floor. “Is Fu Xingchen in his office?” she asked. “Mr. Fu’s been incredibly busy lately, back-to-back meetings. Assistant Sun says he's practically been living at the office, even taking international calls at night. He’s completely exhausted…” The assistant rambled on, completely missing her question. But his words sidetracked her, and her frown deepened with every word. Fu Xingchen had stomach problems, a direct result of skipping meals for work. “Here we are.” The assistant stopped. “Miss, you can go right in. I have other things to attend to!” By the time Jiang Lili snapped out of it, he was already gone. She faced a pair of imposing, solid black wood doors that radiated an air of solemn authority. An image flashed through her mind: Fu Xingchen in a tailored suit, the picture of power, striding through these very doors. *Just drop the things off and leave,* she told herself. *Whatever nasty things he says, just pretend not to hear.* With that thought, she pushed the doors open. The interior was decorated in monochromatic shades of deep gray, a reflection of Fu Xingchen himself—indifferent, noble, and radiating a low-key luxury. A floor-to-ceiling window flooded the entire office with the morning sun. His faint scent lingered in the air, wrapping around her and dredging up memories she had no business recalling. When they were intimate, his large, warm hands would clamp around her slender waist, and all she could see was the expanse of his honey-toned, well-defined chest. Only in those moments of intimacy could she feel his undeniable presence, could she breathe in his scent. The office was empty. Not a soul in sight. Fu Xingchen was gone. For a moment, her heart felt like it had been hollowed out, an indescribable emptiness washing over her. Was he busy, or was he avoiding her because he knew she was here? She hadn't planned on seeing him, but the reality of him not being there… A wave of disappointment she couldn't control threatened to swallow her whole. She stood in the center of the office for a long moment, then took a deep breath and walked toward his desk. She placed the soup container and the file on the polished surface, her eyes drawn to a suit jacket, one sleeve dangling off the edge of the desk. It was wrinkled and carried the faint smell of smoke. He was a neat freak; in the past, no matter how busy he was, he’d have Sun Ting fetch fresh clothes from home. She would always iron everything he’d worn, keeping them ready for him. Her mind was still debating whether to take it home to wash, but her hands had already picked it up. By the time she realized what she was doing, the jacket was already draped over her arm, as if the decision had been made for her. She cursed her own subconscious actions and was about to put the jacket back when— The office door was suddenly pushed open. She looked toward the sound. Lin Xiran stood there in a black silk blouse, the top two buttons undone, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of her pale skin and ample cleavage. Her long, straight legs were encased in black stockings, visible beneath a skirt that stopped well above the knee. The look was pure sex appeal, amplified by the confident aura of a powerful career woman. It was a combination few men could resist. “Who let you in?” Lin Xiran walked toward her, her expression one of complete unfamiliarity as she snatched the jacket from Jiang Lili’s hands. Then, her gaze fell to the soup container and file on the desk. “Are you one of the Fu family’s maids?” Jiang Lili was tall, and Lin Xiran, even in two-inch heels, was only just her height. Her hands now empty, her gaze fell to the stolen jacket, and her expression slowly hardened. Lin Xiran’s question was the last straw. “No.” Lin Xiran looked as if she couldn't be bothered to continue the conversation. “I don't care who you are. From now on, you don't come into Xingchen's office, and you don't touch his things.” With that, she turned and walked into the private lounge. The lounge door was open, and the double bed, directly in her line of sight, was a mess. A man's white dress shirt, black trousers, and a pair of dark blue boxer briefs were strewn across the foot of the bed. Lin Xiran picked them up one by one and took them to the bathroom, then returned to straighten the bed. Beneath the covers, a single black stocking and a leopard-print bra lay tangled, catching Jiang Lili's eye. Her breath hitched. All the color drained from her face. So much for being busy. Fu Xingchen clearly had enough time to tumble into bed with Lin Xiran in his private lounge. “What are you still doing here?” Lin Xiran emerged from the lounge after tossing the stocking and bra into the bathroom, her expression souring when she saw Jiang Lili still standing there. Jiang Lili pointed to the file on the desk. “This needs to be delivered to Fu Xingchen personally.” “Just give it to me.” Lin Xiran’s eyes held a new glint of hostility. This Lin Xiran was a world away from the gentle, demure woman who had stood before Fu Xingchen outside the restaurant. Here, in Fu Xingchen's office, she acted like its mistress, leaving Jiang Lili, the actual Mrs. Fu, feeling utterly humiliated. She started walking toward Lin Xiran.