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Twelve years ago, I met Shen Qingchen.

I was a top employee at the time-travel agency, and this was my last mission. As long as I successfully captured Shen Qingchen's heart, I could earn the points to go home.

I put in all my effort, striving to heal Shen Qingchen, who had lost both parents and was bullied. I accompanied him as he grew and assisted him in rising steadily.

You could say, his current company, glory, and achievements are inseparable from my contributions.

After nine years of pouring out my heart and soul, I cultivated Shen Qingchen from a helpless little figure to the CEO commanding the economic pulse of a company.

I could have retired with success, yet I fell into the sweet trap Shen Qingchen set for me.

I fell in love with him.

I agreed to his proposal—using all my points to exchange for the chance to stay.

Over three years, Shen Qingchen fulfilled his promises.

No one is unaware of how much Mr. She loves his wife, holding me in the palm of his hand, giving me utmost care.

And I believed it wholeheartedly.

Until I saw a conversation like this on Shen Qingchen's phone.

[I am willing to live for you, and willing to die for you too. Don't push me away anymore. You know, without you, I would die.]

[Okay.]

He said, okay.

I seemed possessed, frantically seeking various clues in secret.

Who is she?

What is their relationship?

How far have they progressed?

I never doubted Shen Qingchen, let alone investigated him, but now, my dream has collapsed, and I am forced to reach out my hand.

The evidence in my hand once again shattered my already broken heart.

Su Anyue, Shen Qingchen's assistant.

On social media, she posted blurred photos and ambiguous texts that others couldn't discern, but I could see at a glance, accompanying her was Shen Qingchen.

He celebrated her birthday with her.

Valentine's Day, the Night of Sevens.

Going to amusement parks together.

Visiting night markets together...

In his youth, Shen Qingchen developed a severe stomach condition; I always carefully attended to his diet but repeatedly failed at cooking, so I had to hire professional caretakers and chefs to look after Shen Qingchen's meals and care.

Three regular meals, nutritious and well-matched, though lightly flavored, were beneficial to his health.

Su Anyue likes shooting video vlogs.

In the videos, she has a protagonist who never appears on screen.

She took him to eat street food and smiled, asking, "How is it? Is it good? This must be the first time you've eaten this, right?"

In the video, came a low, gentle male voice.

Brief and simple.

"Mm, it's delicious."

Delicious.

Even the household chef had only received a rating of "acceptable."

Then there was the porridge cooked by Su Anyue herself, which she presented with pride, "Try it, this is the first time I'm cooking for someone!"

"If you like it, I'll cook for you every day!"

The person seemed to take a couple of sips, and his tone was tender yet helpless: "Don't bother, just leave it to the chef in the future."

I checked the date of the video.

Three months ago.

During that period, Shen Qingchen, who never liked porridge, often asked Uncle Zhou at home to make porridge and bring it to the office.

As I watched, my eyes started to moisten, and my body could not help but tremble.

Sorrow swallowed me up.

Future.

Shen Qingchen talked about a future with her.

But what about my future?

Just yesterday, what I uncovered from the private investigator totally broke me.

Su Anyue is pregnant.

Shen Qingchen accompanied her for a prenatal checkup.

In the photos from the detective at the hospital entrance, Shen Qingchen's gaze was tender, fixated on Su Anyue's belly.

On the eve of my birthday.

The husband I loved has died.