1
In the second year of my fake marriage to Ngạn Cận, he got into a car accident.
On the day he was discharged, the doctor warned me that a concussion could cause side effects like memory loss and vomiting, and told me to keep an eye on him for a few more days.
I held up my hand in front of the man and raised some fingers.
“How many is this?”
“One.”
Great. Your mind’s still sharp, so there’s nothing to worry about.
Leaning against the car window, I started imagining what I’d do tomorrow after finishing the job and collecting the last hundred thousand.
Out of the corner of my eye, I kept feeling Ngạn Cận watching me. But whenever I turned to look, he’d turn away, leaving me with only the back of his dark head.
Could this man be trying to stiff me, claiming the blow to his head meant he didn’t remember our fake marriage, and then refusing to pay me?
A flicker of unease suddenly stirred in my otherwise peaceful heart.
But it was fine. I had the written agreement, so there was no way he could stiff me.
After all, he was the one who approached me in the first place.
Back then, I was still running a little roadside stall when he asked if I was interested in a part-time job. Twenty thousand a month, plus an extra payment at the end. In two years, I could make two million altogether.
When I heard about such a great deal, I wondered if it was a scam. Were they going to carve me up and steal my organs?
“What kind of part-time job?”
I looked at the elegant man in front of me, impeccably dressed in a suit. He was tall and handsome, and didn’t look like a con artist.
“Be my part-time wife and help me deal with my family.”
He handed me a business card: CEO of the Ngạn Group, Beijing.
I knew this trope all too well: the replacement heroine, a classic plot from domineering-CEO novels.
Usually, the domineering CEO’s beloved first love hasn’t returned from overseas yet, but his family is pressuring him to marry, so he finds someone to pose as his wife. Then, once his first love comes back, they go through a passionate, painful love affair.
I was so short on money back then that I didn’t even haggle. The very next day, I packed my things and showed up at his house.
As it turned out, I’d forgotten that this man had the same name as Beijing’s notorious underworld heir.
By day, he really did run a legitimate business at the company. But at night, he was often at the underground boxing club, taking care of the thugs who caused trouble.
He kept his ‘side business’ a secret from his family, so he wanted someone to play the part of a virtuous, devoted wife and keep them from finding out whenever he spoke to his parents.
2
The two years actually went by pretty quickly. My specific job was to tell Ngạn Cận’s parents, whenever they came to visit him, that he took his work seriously, got along well with his coworkers, and loved his wife dearly.
In reality, this underworld heir came home every night radiating menace. His ‘coworkers’ all got knocked out cold by him and ended up in the hospital.
And the wife? Fake, too.
But he always paid me right on time every month, so I never had to ask.
But now his parents visited less and less, and the last day of our contract had arrived.
I stuffed all the clothes from the bedroom into my suitcase, then took the paper contract out of the drawer.
Ngạn Cận had been silent ever since he got home yesterday.
Last night, he’d almost gone into my bedroom by mistake before I reminded him, and he went back to his own room.
I struggled down the stairs with my suitcase. When the housekeeper saw me, she came over to help.
“Miss, take it slow. Let me help you.”
I waved her off and cheerfully declined.
“No need. I’m leaving soon, so you don’t have to call me Miss anymore.”
Passing through the living room, I saw the man sitting motionless against the sofa. I handed him the contract.
“Director Ngạn, the contract expires today.”
“You still owe me a hundred thousand. Please pay it, and then we can get divorced. Thanks for the last two years.”
At that, Ngạn Cận looked up. He stared at me without saying a word. The dark circles under his eyes were obvious; he seemed not to have slept well last night.
His intense stare suddenly made me feel a little guilty.
“Then… ninety thousand would be fine, too?”
Was I being too greedy? Was this thug starting to stiff me?
But that’s what the contract said.
3
[Ping—Alipay payment received.]
After a long while, the man lowered his head and took out his phone to pay the remaining amount.
I eagerly opened the app, counted the zeros, then picked up my suitcase and headed for the front door.
After counting for a while, I realized something was off.
What was with all those zeros?
Had he sent it to the wrong person?
It wasn’t until I bumped into the man blocking the doorway that I noticed Ngạn Cận’s eyes were red.
“Oh, Mr. Ngạn, you did send too much, but I’ll give it back. You don’t have to cry. You look so pitiful.”
With my bag over my shoulder, I spoke as I started to transfer the money back, afraid that if I waited even a second, this man would burst into tears over the extra he’d sent.
But he pulled a cigarette from his pocket, lit it, and held it between his fingers. His voice was cold, with a hint of a catch in it.
“A million isn’t enough. I’ll give you another two million. Thời Ngọc, can you stop joking about divorce?”
“Could you try to change this habit of leaving whenever you feel like it? I’m begging you.”
My eyelid twitched violently. My mind went blank, and I felt as if I were hallucinating.
“Director Ngạn, I don’t quite understand what you mean.”
What did he mean, he was begging me? Why was he begging me?
4
“I know I was in a car accident, but I’m not stupid. I still remember that I’m your husband and you’re my wife. We’ve been married for two years, and we love each other very much.”
The man sounded deeply aggrieved, though I had no idea what he was so upset about.
Then he stood up and showed me his phone screen. The wallpaper was a photo of the two of us, taken to fool his parents.
In the photo, I had my arms around his neck and was grinning like an idiot.
Good grief.
He’d even taken his fake wife for the real thing, and still claimed he wasn’t stupid.
“Oh, no, Director Ngạn. We really were only pretending to be married. Look, it says so right here in the contract.”
“You were probably in that car accident a few days ago, and your head must’ve taken a hard hit, leaving your memory all jumbled.”
But Ngạn Cận refused to listen. He even reached over and tore up the agreement on the coffee table. Then he picked up his phone and transferred me another two million.
Transferring the money wasn’t enough. He picked up the suitcase by the door and carried it upstairs, into his room.
I grabbed the housekeeper’s hand as she was getting ready to leave, looking embarrassed.
“Dì Triệu, could you help explain things to Mr. Ngạn, too?”
We were pretending to be husband and wife so badly that anyone else would have seen right through it at a glance.
But Dì Triệu just waved me off, in a hurry to clock out.
“Husbands and wives fight in bed and make up in bed. Miss, I can’t help you with this.”
Ngạn Cận paused slightly at that. Standing on the second floor, he turned to look at me with a meaningful expression.
It was as if he were saying, See? You’re my wife. Everyone else knows it. You’re the only one who keeps saying there’s something wrong with my head.
5
Suddenly, another three million appeared in my account.
The other party refused to end our partnership and nearly got down on their knees to beg me not to leave.
I looked again at the man’s reddened eyes.
It felt like Ngạn Cận would fall apart on the spot if I took even one more step toward the door.
For the other party’s financial and human resources, and out of basic consideration for my business partner,
I stayed.
“You’re the one who begged me to stay, and you transferred the money yourself. Don’t go thinking I’m the one clinging to you and refusing to leave.”
Afraid he’d change his tune once he came to his senses, I emphasized it again.
Ngạn Cận nodded again and again, and at last a smile spread across his handsome face. Humming as he went, he hung each dress from my suitcase in his closet.
But I still had one question: now that he considered me his real wife, would we have to share a room?
It was too awkward to ask, so that night I figured I’d better go back to my old bedroom.
But as soon as I pushed the door open, the man on the bed smiled at me.
“Honey, I don’t remember us ever fighting.”
“So what?”
My eyes went wide.
Ngạn Cận lifted the covers and patted the empty space beside him.
“Then hurry up and go to sleep. We’ve been married this long, and now you want to sleep separately? Don’t try to fool me.”
“I remember that I love you, and I love you even more now. We have a great relationship.”
When this shameless man said those words of love, the tips of my ears turned red despite myself.
I kind of wanted to record this and, once he got his memory back, play it by his ear over and over.
Then he’d definitely get on his knees and beg me to delete it, and transfer me another two million to keep it secret.
After all, he’d always maintained the image of a cold, ridiculously cool mob boss.
“No, you’ve got part of it wrong.”
I cleared my throat and solemnly imitated him, making things up as I went.
“It’s true that we used to be very affectionate, but before your car accident, we had a huge fight. I said we’d sleep separately from then on, and you said, ‘Fine, then we’ll sleep separately.’ You wouldn’t even share a bed with me.”
I put on a serious face, grabbed another blanket, and planned to sleep in the spare bedroom.
The moment I lifted my foot, the person behind me grabbed my wrist.
“That can’t be.”
Ngạn Cận grew anxious. “Then, then can I take back what I said?”
I immediately got into character. His anxious expression was pretty amusing, so I deliberately teased him.
“No. Our cold war isn’t over yet. Don’t use your memory loss as an excuse to do whatever you want. I was so angry then that I wanted to divorce you.”
Two years ago, to deal with his parents’ surprise inspections, I’d basically lived in his villa.
Ngạn Cận only came home on weekends. I hardly saw him during the week, and our relationship was even more distant than that of roommates.
But now that he’d suddenly lost his memory, I was actually talking to him more.
He was still holding my wrist, with no intention of letting go.
“Then what would it take for you to stop being angry?”
I looked at him and suddenly remembered the first time this man came looking for me. He’d stood arrogantly in front of my sausage cart. A hint of vengeance welled up in me.
“Then beg me.”
“You have to mean it.”
I thought he’d at least show some reluctance and push back.
But the first thing out of his mouth was,
“I’m begging you, I’m begging you, please stop giving me the cold shoulder.”
Before I could hide my astonished look, I heard a soft “mwah” right beside my ear.
Ngạn Cận seized the opportunity to lean in and attack my left cheek.