You got your marriage certificate and then abandoned me? I'll feed the richest woman in the wor

The black privacy glass carried the soft hum of the smoothly running motor.

It slowly rises until it fits perfectly into the top sealing strip of the car window.

The chilling night rain on the streets of Paris, and the woman struggling desperately in the trash can.

Completely isolated outside the carriage.

The Maybach's twelve-cylinder engine emitted a deep roar.

The heavy tires rolled over the waterlogged cobblestone road.

Only a tire track was left, which was quickly filled with rainwater.

They disappeared into the distance.

The footage spans a distance of over 10,000 kilometers.

Back at the Cloud Top Manor halfway up the mountain in Jianghai City.

It was late at night in China at that time.

In the master bedroom on the second floor, the underfloor heating was turned on just right.

The air was filled with a faint scent of peach mixed with fir fragrance.

Shen Wanzhou was wearing a fluffy pink pajama set.

She curled up on the left side of the large double bed, like an insecure little animal.

She held tightly to the pillow that Chen Yuan had used, which still retained a faint, refreshing soapy scent.

My chin rested on the edge of the pillow.

The tablet screen in front of her was lit, its cool white light shining on her cheeks, which were flushed with excitement.

On the screen, a recording of the culinary showdown at the Grand Theatre in Paris is playing on a loop.

Watching Chen Yuan cut out a white jade peony with a dinner knife.

Watching those foreign chefs, who usually looked down on everyone, kneel before Chen Yuan's cutting board as if on a pilgrimage.

Shen Wanzhou's peach blossom eyes curved into two beautiful crescent moons.

The curve of her lips couldn't be suppressed.

Two delicate white toes dangled happily under the silk quilt.

This is her personal butler, the man she has officially recognized.

That sense of pride and honor felt like a whole jar of honey had been spilled in my heart.

The sweet taste flowed through my blood and spread throughout my body.

She exited the video interface.

With a flick of his finger across the screen, he skillfully navigated to some of the largest social forums on the internet.

I want to see how those arrogant foreign netizens are being humiliated by her husband.

In the square, posts about this duel were everywhere.

The screen was filled with exclamation marks expressing shock and awe.

Shen Wanzhou watched with great interest.

Just as she was about to put down the tablet and go to sleep peacefully.

With a swipe of my finger, I refreshed the page.

A tweet that was posted less than three minutes ago, but already has the word "viral" on it.

It suddenly jumped into her line of sight.

The tweet's title, written in bold French, read: "Mysterious Chinese Chef Meets Street Girl Late at Night?"

The accompanying image is a blurry photo that was clearly taken secretly in the dark using a telephoto lens.

The background is a secluded back alley outside the Grand Royal Theatre in Paris.

The streetlights cast a dim yellow glow, and the rain streaked across the ground in diagonal lines.

The composition of the photo is tricky.

Chen Yuan is holding a black umbrella, with his back to the camera.

At his feet, a disheveled woman was kneeling in the puddles.

She stretched out her hands and gripped the hem of Chen Yuan's trench coat tightly.

Although half of the woman's face was covered by her messy hair, her pitiful, tearful demeanor made you feel like you could smell a strong aroma of tea even through the screen.

Shen Wanzhou's breathing suddenly stopped the moment she saw the photo.

His pupils contracted violently to the size of a pinhead.

The corners of his mouth, which had been turned up, instantly stiffened and flattened.

It felt as if an invisible hand had squeezed my heart hard, and a sour pain shot straight to my nose.

Although Chen Yuan in the photo did not respond in any way.

They even stood perfectly straight.

But in the eyes of Shen Wanzhou, a "severely obsessive-compulsive food-obsessed late-stage patient".

The amount of information conveyed by this photo is comparable to a nuclear explosion.

There are wild women!

A romantic rainy night in Paris!

She hugged her husband's leg in the street!

A "click" sound.

She slammed the tablet down heavily on the soft mattress.

Shen Wanzhou suddenly threw off the covers and jumped off the bed barefoot.

Her chest heaved violently, and the neckline of her pink pajamas swayed up and down with her breathing.

The string of "reason" in my mind was completely burned away by this overwhelming jealousy.

What do you mean Paris is thousands of miles away?

What? She's a severe socially anxious person who trembles when she goes out.

At this moment, when another female cat covets his territory.

All these psychological barriers were trampled into the mud.

She had only one thing on her mind right now: to smash that woman who dared to touch Chen Yuan with her dirty hands, bones and all!

"Uncle Fu!"

Shen Wanzhou didn't even bother to put on slippers.

I rushed out of the master bedroom, my footsteps echoing on the carpet.

A crisp voice, clearly tinged with anger, rang out in the empty corridor late at night.

Uncle Fu in the housekeeper's office on the first floor.

Hearing this powerful shout, which even carried a hint of killing intent...

I was so startled that I almost dropped my reading glasses.

I quickly put on my coat and ran up to the second floor in a few strides.

"Miss, what happened?"

Uncle Fu stopped panting in front of the master bedroom door.

Looking at the head of the Shen family, whose eyes were red and who looked like a little lion about to get angry.

Shen Wanzhou gripped the pockets of her pajamas tightly with both hands, her knuckles turning white.

"Go and notify the airport to prepare that Gulfstream G650!"

"Also, call Eagle and tell him to immediately mobilize one hundred elite bodyguards, fully armed!"

She clenched her teeth, each word seeming to be squeezed out from between them.

With an undeniable coldness.

Uncle Fu was stunned.

Gulfstream? A hundred bodyguards?

This is a spectacle even Old Master Shen didn't make when he went abroad to plunder gold mines.

"Miss, where are you going?"

Uncle Fu wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and cautiously probed.

"Let's go to Paris!"

Shen Wanzhou turned around and walked towards the dressing room to change her clothes.

"Go and chop up all those vixens outside!"

Uncle Fu gasped.

He had been with the Shen family for two generations and had witnessed the cutthroat world of business.

But for someone like my young lady, to be so eager to take a hundred bodyguards and conquer Paris in the middle of the night for a man is quite something.

This was truly the first time he had ever seen something like this in his life.

"Miss, Mr. Chen has his brothers on the dark web protecting him over there, nothing will go wrong..."

Uncle Fu tried to calm the ruffled cat.

"The flight route application will take time, and bringing so many bodyguards across borders will also cause problems with customs..."

"I don't care!"

Shen Wanzhou walked out of the dressing room.

She had already changed into a sharply tailored black haute couture trench coat.

He was wearing large sunglasses that obscured his vision.

But the murderous aura beneath those sunglasses could freeze someone even through the lenses.

"If spending ten times the money to buy the flight routes and they can't get it done in half an hour, I'll just buy the company in charge of the routes and approve it myself!"

"Anyone who dares to stop me, I'll make sure they go bankrupt in Jianghai City tomorrow!"

As she spoke, she strode downstairs in her high heels.

That aura.

He doesn't seem like someone who's socially anxious and doesn't even dare to see strangers.

She is clearly a female tyrant preparing to raze the enemy's stronghold.

Uncle Fu, watching Shen Wanzhou rush out in a trench coat, exuding a murderous aura, was sweating profusely with anxiety: "Miss! The flight route application is still pending! Are you going to bomb Paris with that murderous intent?!"