The Love Game Planned Long Ago

About this story

In the second year after Ngạn Cận and I signed a fake marriage contract to fool his parents, he lost his memory. Just as our contract expired, I took the agreement to him to collect the remaining payment: “You still owe me 100,000. Once you pay, we divorce.” The man, a cigarette between his lips, frowned and grumbled, then transferred me one million: “We’ve been married so long, and you’re still throwing tantrums. Can’t you be a little obedient?” My face was full of question marks. I tried to explain, but when I saw his dark expression, I remembered he wasn’t easy to provoke, so I let it go. Then a woman claiming to be his first love showed up at the door crying: “Ngạn Cận, you’ve lost your memory—I’m your real wife.” I saw a good chance and slipped toward the door to flee. But the man reached out, blocked me against the wall, and held me tight without letting go. Without even turning his head, he called the security guards to throw her out: “Where did this damn green tea come from? Do you think I’m too stupid to tell my own wife apart?”