O jovem senhor Jiang ajoelha-se implorando perdão, mas a senhorita Shen já se casou com outro.
Cinco anos de casamento, Shen Suining respeitava o marido, amava a filha, dedicava-se de corpo e alma aos dois, mas só recebia desprezo em troca. Com o coração partido, Shen Suining se divorciou e mergulhou na carreira, trabalhando com dedicação, prosperando cada vez mais. Vendo-a se relacionar com magnatas de diversos setores, liderar a indústria, ser elogiada e valorizada, os conhecidos zombavam do ex-marido, chamando-o de tolo, aconselhando-o a reconquistá-la. Ele achava que, com a filha no meio, Shen Suining certamente amoleceria o coração. Para fazê-la aceitar o novo casamento, o ex-marido levou a filha numa noite de tempestade e bateu à porta de Shen Suining. A filha, com os olhos cheios de lágrimas, chamava por "mamãe", e o ex-marido, num tom lastimável, implorava por perdão. Mas, de repente, um pequeno "projétil" saiu correndo de dentro de casa e abraçou firme a perna de Shen Suining: "Mamãe! Aquele idiota do papai estragou as bolinhas que você mais ama! Vai lá ver!" Um homem alto e bonito surgiu, envolvendo a cintura de Shen Suining, e disse carinhosamente: "Querida, não liga pra gente que não tem nada a ver com a gente!"
O jovem senhor Jiang ajoelha-se implorando perdão, mas a senhorita Shen já se casou com outro.
Christmas Eve. Rain poured relentlessly.
Ning City, Imperial Splendor Residence.
Shen Suining hurried through the villa’s front gate, still dust-laden from travel. The housekeeper, upon hearing the commotion, rushed out to greet her, wearing an awkward expression. “Young Madam, why are you home at this hour? There was no word you’d be coming.”
There was a trace of reproach in her tone.
Suining cast the housekeeper a cold glance, ignoring the complaint. “Where is Jiangjiang? I see the lights are still on in the dance studio. Is she there?”
It was already past ten at night. Jiangjiang was only four—well past her bedtime. She couldn’t understand what her husband was thinking, letting their daughter stay up so late.
“She is... but, Young Madam, perhaps you should change your clothes first,” the housekeeper suggested.
At this, Suining’s face grew even colder. She glanced down—her clothes were stained with mud, wrinkled and grimy. She had come straight from a tomb, after all. She should indeed clean up first.
Her daughter, Jiangjiang, never liked seeing her come home from work so dirty.
Suining climbed the stairs, but at the landing, she changed direction and headed for the dance studio.
The door stood wide open. Gentle music drifted out, accompanied by a soft female voice—Jiangjiang’s dance teacher, Lin Yinxi.
“Wonderful, Jiangjiang! You’re dancing better and better! Tomorrow you’ll shine brighter than anyone!”
As Suining reached the doorway, she heard her daughter’s childish, delighted voice: “That’s bec
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