Wealthy Characters

My husband is very rich, but I don’t love him.

In university, he once used every trick in the book to pursue my roommate Jiang Sizhu. He sent luxury gifts one after another, and even made a grand gesture by sending nine thousand roses downstairs from the girls’ dormitory. All the girls in our dorm benefited; we carried armloads of roses back to our rooms, as if we were moving a flower bed. Only Jiang Sizhu remained indifferent. She even warned Pei Lu not to come looking for her again.

“He’s very rich and not bad-looking. You really don’t want him?”

I had a face mask on and finally asked the question I could never understand.

With such a beautiful face, she spent every day hanging around that senior who worked odd jobs everywhere.

“No way, a stuffy old bore like him? If you’re so interested, go after him yourself,” Jiang Sizhu said with disdain.

I rested my chin on my hand, thought for a moment, then nodded.

“Fine.”

“I’ll go after him.”

My online boyfriend had an insanely attractive voice.

Every night, I hid under my covers and talked to him on the phone.

He indulged my every request, and his voice was so seductive it could practically get me pregnant on the spot.

Afraid my male roommate might overhear, I asked my online boyfriend to lower his voice.

That was when a comment feed suddenly appeared before my eyes.

[How can the supporting female character be this oblivious? She has no idea her online boyfriend is the obsessive male lead she lives with.]

[She really went and provoked him. She’ll have plenty of reasons to cry later.]

[She’s only chatting with him as a stand-in for the heroine, though. She’d better run before he finds out who she is, or it’ll be too late and he’ll…]

Terrified, I ended the call.

I stepped out of my room, intending to splash some water on my face and calm down.

Then, from the bathroom, I faintly heard a man’s voice trembling with restraint. “Baby, why did you hang up all of a sudden?”

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.

On the first day after my wealthy birth family found me, my biological parents gave me a warning.

“Now that you’re back, don’t go thinking you can compete with Nian for anything.”

I surveyed the family’s opening show of hostility, smiled, and pulled out an employment contract.

“I think you two have misunderstood something: a parent-child relationship is a legal fact.”

“But asking me to play the sweet, obedient daughter while serving as your adopted daughter’s stepping stone would qualify as premium emotional labor.”

“It’ll cost extra.”

In my senior year of high school, my parents cut off every cent of my living expenses and tried to force me to drop out.

With nowhere else to turn, I enrolled at an elite school packed with rich heirs.

My grades were good enough to earn a full tuition waiver, but tuition was not going to keep me fed.

After going hungry for half a month, I finally worked up the courage to face the classmates who never studied and ask, “Does anyone need their homework done? It’s only five yuan per assignment.”

The young masters and heiresses, who had been busy showing off their wealth, fell silent and stared at me in shock.

Then the room erupted.

“Five yuan? Who do you think you’re insulting? Five hundred—I’m first!”

“Five thousand! Put me at the front!”

“Fifty thousand—and I mean dollars!”

“I’ll top every bid! Let’s see who dares fight me for first place today!”

I am the real heiress who was deliberately switched at birth by a nanny.

Raised among the worst people at the very bottom of society, I grew up seeing nearly every shade of darkness this world had to offer.

After I returned to my biological family, everyone expected me to give way to the fake heiress and stop competing with her for their affection.

What they did not know was that shallow affection could never satisfy my ambition.

When I was twenty-five, I had a child with one of the most powerful heirs in Beijing’s elite circle.

There was no future for two people as unequal as us, so I took the money and opportunities the He family offered and broke up with him.

Then, five years later, during a break on set.

A little boy who looked strikingly like He Jinnan came looking for me.

He pursed his lips, aggrieved yet stubbornly proud.

“My dad is He Jinnan,” he said.

“And you’re my mom.”

I looked at him and gave a faint hum of acknowledgment.

He hurriedly pulled a thick wad of cash from his backpack.

His eyes were full of pleading.

“Can I hire you for one day to come to my parent-teacher meeting?”

My dream guy suddenly asked why I had stopped simping for him.

I checked my spreadsheet and realized I had accidentally left him off the roster.

So I sent him a queue number and promised he would get his turn after two more rounds.

“Don’t worry, I work fast, Ziyue.”

He replied, “My name is Qi Pei!”

To catch the School Bully’s attention,

the School Beauty gave me 660,000 to publicly bully her.

“If you bully me, he’ll feel so sorry for me and come to protect me on his own!”

So I blocked the School Beauty at the school gate and shouted,

“So what if you’re a little prettier, your family’s a little richer, and your grades are a little better? What are you acting so smug about!”

The School Beauty cried pitifully, drawing a crowd of onlookers from the whole school.

On the way home, the School Bully’s Bentley cut me off.

Just as I was about to kneel and apologize, the School Bully handed me a bank card.

“Well done. I’ve been sick of that Little Green Tea for a while now.”

“There’s 880,000 in the card. I’m hiring you as my girlfriend, keep messing with her!”

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.