Volume One, Chapter One: Mr. Lu, Madam is at the Hospital for an Abortion

"Nan Zhi, the funeral is about to begin. Is Jun Shen still not coming?"

Summer Nan Zhi, dressed in mourning white, knelt before her mother's altar. The flickering flames from burning paper money cast a pale glow on her wan face. She glanced down at her nearly dead phone—Lu Jun Shen still hadn’t answered. Her mother had passed away, and Nan Zhi, seven months pregnant, had kept vigil at the altar for seven days, yet her husband of three years had not appeared even once.

Lu Jun Shen was always busy with work; Nan Zhi had always understood him. She dutifully reminded herself that he was likely caught up in his job.

"He’s probably busy, and won’t be coming," she whispered.

Tears still stained her cheeks. She burned the last bit of paper money in her hand and struggled to stand, supporting her heavy belly, her voice hoarse and broken, "Let’s begin the funeral."

Aunt Jiang Hong, nearby, spoke with a mocking tone, "Nan Zhi, how busy can President Lu really be? Seven days and not a single appearance—he clearly doesn’t care about your mother."

Her cousin, Xia Ning, sneered, "Mom, you’re wrong. President Lu doesn’t just disrespect Auntie—he’s ignoring Cousin, and the child in her belly as well."

Their ridicule was sharp, each word slicing into Nan Zhi’s heart. Still, she told herself that Lu Jun Shen had always been a dutiful husband after their marriage. He wouldn’t deliberately stay away; surely his work held him back.

Just as she convinced herself, reality delivered a cruel blow.

Xia Ning cried out, staring at her phone, "Isn’t that President Lu? He’s trending online!"

She deliberately shoved her phone in front of Nan Zhi.

Nan Zhi looked down. The video was trending this morning, but filmed last night. The headline read: "President Lu of Lu Corporation rents venue for Miss Xu Ruo Qing’s birthday celebration."

In the video, fireworks bloomed brilliantly beneath the night sky. The man sat elegantly and confidently in a chair, his deep gaze fixed on the girl beside him, whose smile shone brighter than the fireworks themselves.

The spectacle was dazzling, but Nan Zhi’s eyes lingered only on the man’s silhouette. She recognized instantly that he was her husband, Lu Jun Shen.

So last night, he had been with another woman, celebrating her birthday with fireworks?

Nan Zhi’s mind went blank, her body frozen.

The crackling fireworks and Xia Ning’s jeering continued, "Cousin, didn’t you say your husband was busy? He certainly was—busy celebrating another woman’s birthday."

Nan Zhi clenched her hands, her thoughts consumed by the image of Lu Jun Shen lighting fireworks for another woman. She had thought he was busy. Even with her mother’s death, she had shouldered everything alone, never daring to trouble him.

Seven days, and he hadn’t answered a single call, nor found time to pay his respects. Yet he had time to celebrate for another woman.

How laughable.

The woman in the video was Lu Jun Shen’s first love, the one he cherished most. Nan Zhi was merely the wife Lu’s grandfather had chosen for her, in gratitude for her father’s life-saving deed, hoping to provide her with lifelong support.

For three years, Nan Zhi knew he didn’t love her. She never dared to trouble him with her own affairs, nor hoped for anything more.

Lu Jun Shen was a cold, unromantic man, whose life revolved solely around work, never celebrating any occasion. Only today did Nan Zhi realize he wasn’t incapable of romance—he simply refused to be romantic with her.

With a grand display of fireworks, Lu Jun Shen had made Nan Zhi the greatest joke of all.

She clenched her teeth, forced down the pain, and tore her gaze from the phone. She wanted to appear less pathetic.

Her mother’s funeral still needed her; she had to hold herself together.

Nan Zhi bent with effort, cradled her mother’s memorial tablet, and walked out, ignoring the scornful glances.

She remembered how her mother, before passing, wished to see Lu Jun Shen one more time. She had called him many times then, but he never answered—perhaps he was with Xu Ruo Qing even then.

Her mother had hoped she could live happily with Lu Jun Shen forever.

But perhaps that was impossible.

She managed everything alone. When relatives and friends had eaten and departed, Nan Zhi sat alone in the dining room.

Lu Jun Shen arrived late, dressed in a black shirt, his handsome face expressionless. His gaze fell upon Nan Zhi, and for once, a flicker of apology appeared.

Nan Zhi, holding her belly, looked up. The pent-up grievance surged within her.

She took a deep breath, swallowing her sorrow, her face calm. "Just finished with work?"

Lu Jun Shen didn’t notice the brittle tone in her voice.

"There was a meeting today."

"And last night? Did you enjoy the birthday celebration?"

Lu Jun Shen frowned, but before he could speak, a woman in a red dress, wrapped in Lu Jun Shen’s jacket, entered.

Nan Zhi’s expression darkened further.

"Nan Zhi, I’m sorry. Jun Shen was with me last night. My mother was ill recently and Jun Shen was worried I’d be overwhelmed, so he helped me take care of her. That’s why he missed your messages—it’s all my fault, I shouldn’t have troubled him."

Hearing Xu Ruo Qing’s words, Nan Zhi’s heart ached even more.

"Was your mother seriously ill?"

"Not really, just a cold and some fever. She’s almost recovered now."

Nan Zhi felt as if her heart had been crushed. She tried to control her emotions, but her reddened eyes and trembling lips betrayed her.

Lu Jun Shen’s frown deepened. When he learned Nan Zhi’s mother had died, he was in a meeting. By the time he planned to come, Xu Ruo Qing had another crisis. With so many matters at hand, he had simply forgotten Nan Zhi.

No matter what, he felt deeply sorry.

He intended to pay his respects at Nan Zhi’s mother’s altar, but Nan Zhi stopped him. "That’s unnecessary. Her mother is more important to you; go be with her."

Lu Jun Shen halted.

Nan Zhi no longer wanted to linger. She stood and prepared to leave.

She did not cry; Nan Zhi would not shed tears for someone unworthy.

Lu Jun Shen watched Nan Zhi, seven months pregnant and struggling to walk, and for the first time, felt a pang of concern.

Xu Ruo Qing had been distraught over her mother’s illness, calling him in tears. Yet Nan Zhi’s mother had died, and she had endured everything alone.

"Where are you going? Don’t wander around while pregnant," Lu Jun Shen called after her.

Nan Zhi gave a bitter smile.

So he remembered she was pregnant, after all.

Abandoning his pregnant wife to care for another’s mother—clearly, he cared nothing for her or the child.

A child born unwanted and unloved would never find happiness.

Nan Zhi glanced at her belly. In her pain, she seemed to arrive at a decision and hurried toward the elevator.

Lu Jun Shen felt a suffocating tightness in his chest and rushed after her, but Xu Ruo Qing grabbed his arm. "Jun Shen, Nan Zhi is grieving her mother’s death. Let her calm down by herself."

Lu Jun Shen frowned at Xu Ruo Qing, brushed aside her hand, and replied coldly, "She’s emotionally unstable now and could be in danger. You should head home."

By the time Lu Jun Shen reached outside, Nan Zhi had vanished.

He stared at the busy street, took out his phone, and dialed, "Track Nan Zhi’s phone. Find her immediately."

A flicker of unease appeared on his handsome face.

An hour later.

His assistant called, "Sir, Madam is at the hospital."

"Why did she go to the hospital?"

"For...for an abortion. Also, Madam had the lawyer draft a divorce agreement—she’s already signed it."

A buzzing sounded in his ears.

Lu Jun Shen’s deep eyes were filled with disbelief.