Different Social Status

During the first year of our marriage, at my birthday banquet, a songstress appeared wearing a silk dress identical to mine.

My husband’s expression turned ice-cold. “Someone, strip that dress off her.”

He was clearly defending my honor, yet I felt not a single spark of warmth in my heart.

For I knew that he was also the man who had once spent a fortune on that very songstress and made a pact to elope with her.

During the poorest year of my life, I sold myself to Zhou Jinyan for three hundred thousand yuan to serve as a substitute for his White Moonlight.

His friends once egged me on to drink until I suffered a gastric hemorrhage.

They asked him, “Don’t you feel bad for her?”

He looked down, his tone indifferent. “She’s just a substitute.”

Later, to save his White Moonlight, Zhou Jinyan stood by and watched as I fell from a cliff into the sea.

The search and rescue team never found my body.

He suddenly went mad, searching the entire world for me.

Five years later, I was invited back to the country and ran into him at an event.

He stared at me intently, his eyes rimmed with red. “I knew you weren’t dead. I’ve been looking for you-”

I took a step back, offering a polite yet distant smile. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

In my past life, my sister was adopted by a wealthy family, while I was taken in by a street cleaner.

As it turned out, that wealthy family was plagued by vicious infighting. Her parents were cold, her brother was a bully, and she was eventually kicked out with nothing to her name.

My home, however, was full of harmony. To top it off, a wealthy young heir fell in love with me-the poor, innocent Little White Flower. My life was like something straight out of a romance drama.

Consumed by resentment, my sister killed me, and we both returned to the day we were adopted.

This time, she rushed forward and threw herself into the cleaner’s arms before I could move.

“Sister, this time, it’s my turn to be the leading lady of the drama.”

But what she didn’t know is that a leading lady is never defined by her background.

For two years, my online boyfriend and I have turned ordinary life into an absurd rich-heir role-play.

Then he adds me to his childhood-friends group, and I discover that every outrageous claim was true: he really is a powerful heir, and his so-called loyal lackey is the president of my company.

Convinced I have deceived him, I try to run before the truth ruins everything.

But Fu Yan has known exactly who I am all along, and he has no intention of letting class differences—or my spectacular misunderstandings—end our romance.

[A Long-Planned Scheme + Forceful Possession + A Powerful Man Bows His Head for Love + Both Leads Chaste + Two Strong Leads Join Forces]

Pei Xianjing, the eldest legitimate son of the Duke’s household, enjoyed the Emperor’s deep favor. Accomplished in both civil and military affairs, fair-minded and incorruptible, he was hailed by all as an upright gentleman and a capable minister who could save the realm-an aloof, unattainable flower blooming upon a frozen peak.

A savior delivered all beneath heaven.

And so, when Xing Shuwei came to him four years ago with nowhere else to turn, he had shown her generous compassion and allowed her to stay. “From now on, you belong to me.”

Overwhelmed with gratitude, Xing Shuwei regarded him as the lifeline that had saved both her and her younger brother. She obeyed his every word.

Then, on the day after her eighteenth birthday, Pei Xianjing pinned her against his desk.

The courteous gentleman had become a ravenous wolf. “Weiwei, do you like the birthday gift I gave you?”

“You are the rose I planted with my own hands. Even if every inch of you is covered in thorns, I am the only one you may prick.”

In the third year of my relationship with Tan Zongmin, I caught him meeting the woman his family had arranged for him to marry.

The moment he saw me, he froze.

Noticing his distraction, she followed his gaze and asked curiously, “What are you looking at?”

Tan Zongmin looked away and replied flatly, “Nothing.”

I breathed a sigh of relief and played along with our unspoken understanding, pretending not to know him.

That morning, I’d received an email confirming that my resignation had been approved.

I’d been wondering how to break up with Tan Zongmin gracefully.

I was born to perform.

When I discovered that my husband from a marriage of convenience was only cold and aloof on the surface-and insatiable underneath-I helped myself to the feast.

I loved watching still waters ripple endlessly under my touch.

But I seemed to have taken the act a little too far. It wasn’t just in bed that I clung to him. I lost control outside the bedroom too.

One day, when I brought lunch to his office again, I overheard his friend teasing him.

“Who was it that said this was just a business arrangement and you’d get divorced after three months? Now you go home at six thirty sharp every day. Aren’t you sick of it?”

After a few seconds of silence, Qin Xian answered.

“I am.”

I stood outside the door, staring down at the lunchbox in my hands.

So his workday didn’t actually end at ten thirty. It ended at six thirty.

I decided it was time to rein in my urge to perform.

I remained endlessly enthusiastic in bed, but I never initiated another message to him.

On the day our contract expired, I cheerfully handed him the divorce papers. Qin Xian’s eyes instantly darkened.

“All this time, did you see me as your husband-or as a vibrator?”

I came to the city looking for work, and somehow ended up as the male secretary to a young, domineering CEO.

Like an idiot, I asked him, “Bro, I don’t have much schooling. What can I do?”

The CEO frowned around the cigarette between his lips and motioned for me to bend lower. “You can.”

Three months later, I was standing beside the CEO’s bed while he shifted over with his laptop in his arms to make room for me, then reached out to blow-dry my hair.

All at once, it hit me.

Wait.

Something about this doesn’t seem right.

Eight months pregnant, Jiang Xingluo is attacked by her husband’s childhood sweetheart and accused of being his mistress.

At the police station, Fu Tingchen tears up their marriage certificate and walks away with the other woman.

He thinks her demand for a divorce is another jealous tantrum.

This time, she means every word.

I ended up sleeping with the deaf-mute college boy my husband and I had been sponsoring.

While my husband brought his secretary home and took her to bed, I was in the next room, tangled up endlessly with the boy he had sponsored.

He bit his lip, trying to hold back, his face flushed, his eyes hazy.

He typed on his phone and played it aloud through text-to-speech: “Stop! Please don’t touch me there!”

Neither of us expected the volume to be so loud that my husband in the next room heard it.