Chapter 1: The Ledger of Betrayal

A dozen or so people in ordinary attire sat scattered across the public gallery. The defense attorney stood up from behind the defense counsel table, presenting a black accounting ledger to the judge. "Your Honor, this is the ledger recorded by my client ever since he met the plaintiff. It is more than enough to prove that the plaintiff's income was only sufficient to cover her own daily living expenses. Therefore, all fixed assets acquired during the marriage were funded entirely by the defendant. The plaintiff has no grounds to claim any additional compensation. All records are accompanied by original receipts, which the plaintiff's side can verify in court."

Before the black ledger could reach the court clerk, it was snatched away by the distraught plaintiff. The disheveled woman, looking nearly forty, bore the desolate look of youth long faded. With trembling hands, she flipped open the thick ledger, which was plastered with receipts. Barely past the first page, her voice cracked, "February 1998, red roses, 46 yuan; taxi fare, 21 yuan; movie tickets—David! What is the meaning of this?"

Seated across from her, the expressionless man wore an immaculate black suit with neatly trimmed hair, watching her with cold detachment. "Did you forget?"

The situation turned bizarre. Everyone else in the courtroom froze, the vast space falling silent save for the rustling sound of pages turning in trembling hands. A slightly crisp receipt fluttered out from the very last page. She let out a cry—a sound of disbelief and heartbreaking agony terrifying in its intensity. "What is this?! You even calculated the birthday gift bought for our daughter down to the very last penny?!"

"We agreed on joint custody. Don't get it twisted," came the icy reply. A small figure in the gallery stood up, breaking free from an elderly person's restraining grip and running forward. "Mom, please don't cry. Mom, let's go home."

"Hold on a second." Amidst the chaos, a clear, pleasant female voice rang out. Her articulation was crisp and powerful, without a trace of hesitation, evoking the image of sweet, juicy sugarcane in the heat of summer. She took the black ledger, rapidly flipping through a few pages. Her elegant, slender fingers gripped the cover so tightly that a faint friction sound echoed from the binding.

A sleek black suit, long slender legs beneath a pencil skirt, a dangerously thin waist—yet her steps were unwavering as she strode forward.

Within a few paces, she stood before the bench, lifting a delicate, oval-shaped face. Her upturned eyebrows brought to mind a phoenix spreading its wings. Victoria, the renowned "Queen-tier" attorney of the Central Plains, possessed an undeniable, overwhelming presence. The poor judge, who had spent his entire life in this small court of a provincial town, had never witnessed such a formidable aura. Frightened out of his wits, he recoiled ungracefully.

She had returned to her hometown to pay respects to her ancestors when she accidentally crossed paths with this pitiful mother and daughter—who happened to be distant relatives of her mother's family. It was the most cliché, rotten betrayal imaginable: a man turning his back on shared hardships once wealth was attained, casting aside his loyal wife for a new lover, and transferring every last cent of assets, only to now attempt to escape paying the final scraps of cash compensation.

As a specialist in high-stakes divorce litigation, she had seen it all. What others viewed as human tragedies were to her nothing more than a walk in the park. Yet, she hadn't expected this trashy man to keep such a shocking private ledger. After all these years—well, of course. With such ruthless and calculating selfishness, how could he not have gotten rich?

She had seen plenty of inhuman men, but this was certainly the first time she had encountered one sinking quite this low. She glanced over at the weeping mother and daughter. Ten years sharing the same pillow, only to suddenly morph into a complete stranger. Such a devastating blow meant they wouldn't sober up anytime soon.

"Your Honor, I have looked over this document," she said, turning back to address the bench.

"Ah, yes... and what does Ms. Victoria think—" In a small-town civil court, weren't most messy lawsuits pre-determined anyway? David had spoken to the court president weeks before the trial; today was merely supposed to be a formality. Why on earth did Victoria suddenly drop in? Cold sweat poured down the judge's neck. Had he known this would happen, he would have called in sick no matter what.

"They are all originals. It is indeed genuine," she nodded, giving a definitive answer.

*Ah? So simple?* Relieved, the judge declared, "Then I shall rule—"

"Wait," Victoria interrupted again. The heart that had just settled dropped back into his throat, and the judge reached for his handkerchief to wipe away his sweat. Over at the defense table, strange and bewildered glances were thrown her way. *What do you ignorant idiots know?* Standing right there before him was Victoria, the legendary legal titan. Since the start of her career, she had handled nothing but massive divorce cases involving mega-corporations and ultra-wealthy elites. How many untouchable heavyweights had she dragged through the mud, leaving them battered and financially ruined? Rumor had it that all her close confidantes were filthy-rich divorcees. Even more startlingly, she had remained single for years while effortlessly winning every conceivable type of case—all supposedly because of a deeply influential, special relationship with a high-ranking official in the Ministry of Justice. How was a humble local judge supposed to stand up to an elite lawyer of this caliber?

Ignoring the judge's complex expression, Victoria turned on her heel, walked straight up to the defense table, placed both hands on the surface, and looked down at David.

*Oh, wow.* Up close, this bizarre, unfamiliar female lawyer was actually an absolute stunner. The cold, indifferent expression on David's face began to shift.

"Mr. David, I also have something I'd like you to see." She signaled her assistant to step forward, reached out, retrieved a folder, and opened it right before his eyes, kindly flipping it to the right page for him.

"What is this?" He lowered his gaze. Before he even finished scanning the first page, he gasped, bolted upright out of his chair, and slammed the folder shut with a loud *thud*. "What the hell is the meaning of this?!"

"Mr. David," her clear, forceful voice carried an unmistakable gravity, every word striking like a hammer, "today's verdict might very well satisfy you. But the next time we meet in a courtroom, it will be over your de facto bigamy, the illicit transfer of marital assets, and a whole slew of other unsavory details. Would you like me to spell them out for you right here, item by item?"

The two spoke in hushed tones, leaving the public gallery completely clueless about what was happening as many stretched their necks to get a better look. David's attorney hurried over, reaching out to inspect the documents, but David slammed a heavy hand down over them, stopping him cold. Cold sweat streamed down the lawyer's face, gleaming brightly under the courtroom lights.

"Your Honor..." David finally squeezed out two words. His face was drenched in sweat, as if he had just been fished out of a river. Every eye in the room was fixed on him, yet he stared solely at the calm, poised beauty standing before him. His voice came in halting, exhausted gasps. "Hold off on the verdict. I request an out-of-court settlement."

Chapter 2: The Drunken Lament

Sleepy and sluggish, Richard lifted the glass in his hand, accidentally knocking it against the glossy black marble bar counter with a crisp clink. Just how many times had he done that tonight? Each time, the sharp sound echoed like a tiny alarm, jolting him back from the haze of exhaustion. Startled awake yet again, he stood up decisively, determined to save himself before the night dragged him under completely.

"Andy, I'm heading out."

The man beside him was drinking heavily, his eyes burning red—or was he crying? In the dim, amber-lit bar, it was impossible to tell. Richard couldn't be bothered to care. He had his own battles to fight, his own demons to outrun. But seeing that Richard was about to leave, Andy immediately reached out and grabbed his arm with desperate strength. "Don't go, Richard. You have to listen to me—"

"I'm flying to Shanghai tomorrow," Richard said, his voice flat, already mentally checking his flight details.

"Don't talk to me about Shanghai! That woman, that woman—" Andy's voice cracked, thick with self-pity and alcohol. "No way, you have to stay and drink with me until we drop tonight. You absolutely must!"

Although Richard was born abroad, his family had raised him with strict discipline since childhood, and his proficiency in Chinese was quite decent. He had grown up hearing stories from his grandparents, including the famous legend in China about a tragic, endlessly complaining woman named Xiang Lin's Wife—a figure so consumed by her own misfortunes that she drove everyone around her to madness. Right now, Andy was channeling that same energy.

Running a hand irritably through his hair, Richard hooked his finger at the young bartender, who approached with practiced efficiency.

"What would you like, sir?"

"Give me a glass of ice water." The bartender turned around immediately.

"Wait," Richard called him back, changing his mind in an instant. "Forget the ice water, bring me whiskey."

"A glass? On the rocks?"

"No need. The whole bottle." He patted Andy's shoulder, flashing a well-meaning smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Drink up, buddy. I'll drink you right into a stupor."

In the end, Andy went down. It took nearly an hour of relentless pouring, but eventually, his head slumped onto the table, his drunken sobs muffled by the polished wood. When they finally got him home, bundled into Richard's car and dragged up to his apartment, he was still sobbing miserably between hiccups. "Richard, I've had it so rough this time."

"She was with you for three years," Richard said, more statement than sympathy.

"Even half of the company's shares got split away—" Andy's voice trembled with financial panic.

"Didn't Cindy have your kid? She refused to divorce no matter what, and then suddenly..." Strangely enough, once Andy was drunk, he actually made a bit more sense than when he was sober. The alcohol seemed to strip away his usual pretenses, leaving only raw, unfiltered truth.

"How the hell should I know?" Andy slurred, clutching his chest in agony before his expression suddenly twisted into a ferocious glare. "I know who's behind this!"

Startled, Richard felt a wave of relief as Andy's apartment building finally came into view through the foggy windshield. "You're here."

Ignoring him entirely, Andy gritted his teeth and ranted on, his voice rising with each word. "It was that damn lawyer Victoria! Ever since Cindy met her, she became a totally different person. That woman, that woman—"

The legendary Xiang Lin's Wife had returned, reincarnated in Andy's drunken tirade. The car clock showed it was past midnight, and his flight was at 8:00 AM. Four hours of sleep, if he was lucky. Should he just knock him unconscious right now? Richard seriously considered it, weighing the pros and cons with sober calculation.

"Victoria, I curse you, I curse you—"

*Thud!*

The world went quiet.

Unfazed, Richard calmly put down the heavy object he had used as a blunt instrument—a decorative metal figurine from Andy's own shelf—and dragged his completely unconscious friend out of the car and up to his doorstep. It was all self-inflicted anyway. Why bother getting married? Staying single and carefree like him was way better than being an immortal tethered to another person's chaos. Some people just refused to see the light, no matter how many warnings flashed before their eyes. What was that other Chinese saying? Ah, yes: those who bring disaster upon themselves cannot survive.

Richard locked the door behind him, stepped into the cool night air, and headed back to his hotel. Tomorrow was Shanghai. Tomorrow was a fresh start.

Chapter 3: The Shanghai Headquarters

Returning from the factory straight to the Shanghai headquarters, his secretary was already waiting by the elevators holding a stack of files. Catching sight of him, she broke into a trot. "Mr. Richard, everyone is waiting for you in the boardroom."

Stepping into the meeting room and seeing the serious expressions on everyone's faces, Richard mentally sighed. Why did they have to be so afraid of him? He actually thought he was a pretty decent guy. Besides, the Asia-region performance had been great lately, and this was his first time visiting the Shanghai branch this month—couldn't they at least pretend to look like they missed him?

The reports began: A, B, C, D; one after another. Had Vice President Li spent all his time dealing with family drama back home while he was away? Why did his eyes look so puffy today? And now it was Xiao Sun's turn—sigh, every time he saw him speak, the guy would stumble over his words. Why was he wiping sweat already?

"Daisy, get Manager Sun a glass of ice water."

"Mr. Richard, we sent the shipment out, but the Japanese clients are refusing to accept the goods according to the original contract. Word is that some domestic supplier is undercutting us and negotiating with them at rock-bottom prices." Xiao Sun chugged the water like parched earth, finally managing to get the whole sentence out.

"Oh," Richard nodded. "Let me see that contract."

Total silence filled the boardroom. The crisp rustle of flipping pages sounded as if it were scraping directly across everyone's faces, and a few heavy smokers instinctively began patting their pockets. No choice—Mr. Richard didn't smoke, and whenever he was around, it was strictly a *no-smoking* zone. *Boo-hoo*, the pressure was always so intense whenever he showed up.

"Set up a meeting. I'll go talk to Yamada myself." Finally lifting his head, he flashed a smile. "As for you guys—"

A flash of white caught the corner of his mouth, causing everyone's skin to instantly tighten. "The historical pricing ranges for the other domestic suppliers have already been compiled. Would you like to review them, Mr. Richard? We're rushing to finish the rest of the related materials."

"As soon as possible." He stood up and headed for the door. "Daisy, schedule Yamada for tomorrow."

Another hurried trot. *Mr. Richard, you really walk too fast.*

"Should I invite Mr. Yamada to dinner?"

"In the boardroom. If the talks succeed, we eat; if they fail, he can walk home himself." His voice was crisp and decisive as he finally vanished beyond the doorway.

The atmosphere in the boardroom instantly collapsed. Vice President Li stepped up to rally the troops. "You all heard the man—tomorrow. Tonight, we finish everything, no exceptions."

Someone wailed, "We've already been pulling shifts until the middle of the night for two days straight, Mr. Li—"

A heavy slap landed on the back of the complainer's head, turning the wail into a shriek. "What was that for?"

"Didn't you see Mr. Richard was unhappy?"

"Seemed fine to me. Wasn't he smiling?"

*Must be new here.* Everyone else shot the newcomer a look of profound pity, turning in unison to walk out, leaving him with a silent, despairing back.

---

Lifting his head from a mountain of paperwork, Richard asked, "Daisy, what else is on my schedule for today?"

She cradled her planner, scanning it from top to bottom. "The celebration party for the new board member of Xinyang Group. The gift is already prepared. Tonight at 8:00 PM at the Ritz-Carlton."

"Zhu Yusheng?" He couldn't help it; his memory was just that good.

"No, the new board member is Mrs. Zhu—no, wait, the *former* Mrs. Zhu."

*Huh?* He had only been away from Shanghai for a little over a month; how was he already this out of the loop?

"What's the story?"

*Oh, oh.* The boss was raising his eyebrow—so handsome! Daisy instantly felt a bit dizzy and, before she knew it, started spilling the gossip. "You probably didn't know, Mr. Richard, but Mr. Zhu and his wife got a divorce last month. He lost the divorce suit miserably, and all of his domestic shares were awarded to his wife. That's why the new board member changed."

*Another divorce.* Hearing that word over and over again these past two days, Richard couldn't help but shake his head.