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

"You signed my contract, so every single hair on your head belongs to me!"

The domineering declaration, tinged with tears, trembled in the night breeze of the garden.

The two hands pressed against Chen Yuan's chest were still burning hot.

Because of her emotional outburst, Shen Wanzhou's fingers were still pale from lack of blood flow.

She gripped his black shirt fabric tightly.

Territorial instincts overcame her social anxiety, and even her breathing became unreasonably rapid.

Chen Yuan lowered his eyes.

Looking at the cat in my arms, whose fur had completely bristled from fear and jealousy.

A low, muffled laugh escaped from his chest.

The vibration traveled through the muscles of Shen Wanzhou's chest and was transmitted to Shen Wanzhou's palm without reservation.

It was so hot that she instinctively wanted to pull her hand back.

Chen Yuan, however, did not give her a chance to escape.

He took half a step back, widening the distance between them that was too close.

Then, very cooperatively, he raised his two hands, which were covered in the smell of barbecue smoke, into the air.

With palms facing outwards, assume a standard surrender posture.

"Alright, everyone, down to the boss's command."

His voice revealed an undisguised indulgence and pampering.

Even the chill in the night breeze was softened by this tone of voice.

As soon as she finished speaking, Shen Wanzhou's cheeks instantly burned.

The fierce energy he had shown when he tore up the multi-billion dollar contract and kicked people out had completely vanished.

She bit her lower lip tightly.

She turned her burning cheeks to one side, not daring to look into those smiling eyes any longer.

Chen Yuan put down his hand and turned to clean up the mess next to the charcoal stove.

The metal skewers made a crisp sound as they struck the stainless steel tray.

The residual heat of the charcoal fire still lingered in the air, carrying the lingering aroma of cumin.

He carried the greasy iron tray up the steps and into the kitchen on the first floor.

Splash!

The faucet was turned on, and clear water flowed onto the bottom of the sink, splashing up tiny droplets.

Shen Wanzhou followed behind him like a fluffy little tail that he couldn't shake off.

She stopped in her tracks when she reached the kitchen doorway.

I didn't dare go in; I just peeked inside through the semi-transparent glass door frame.

Chen Yuan stood in front of the kitchen counter with his back to her.

She was wearing a pure black cotton apron.

The sleeves of the shirt were casually rolled up to above the elbows, and the collar was slightly open.

With each wash, the muscles in his strong, powerful forearms rippled smoothly.

The white foam of dish soap slid down the slender fingers and was dispersed by the water.

That broad and upright figure kept the bloodshed outside the door at bay.

Just looking at him makes the perpetually leaky black hole in my heart feel completely filled.

Shen Wanzhou leaned against the edge of the door frame.

The arrogant and domineering face of the Bai family's daughter flashed involuntarily through his mind.

The sense of crisis of territory being invaded resurfaced.

This man is too dazzling.

Even something as simple as cooking or washing dishes can attract a swarm of admirers.

If she hadn't rushed out today, that crazy woman would have tried to buy him with the black card.

She has to do something.

Those eyes that covet her personal chef must be completely cut off.

They firmly branded him with the unique label of the Shen family.

Shen Wanzhou reached into the loose pocket of her pajamas.

He pulled out his spare phone, which he usually only used to send top-level business instructions.

The screen lit up, its cool white glow illuminating her earnest face.

She turned on her camera and quietly pointed the lens at the figure in the kitchen.

The lens focus was gradually narrowed.

All that's left on the screen is those broad shoulders and the apron straps that accentuate her narrow waist.

Click.

A soft shutter sound.

The image is frozen in the album, the silhouette exuding a warm, everyday charm.

Shen Wanzhou glanced nervously into the kitchen.

Confirming that the sound of rushing water drowned out the shutter sound, Chen Yuan did not turn around.

She breathed a sigh of relief and patted her heaving chest.

I swiped my finger across the screen and tapped the WeChat icon.

This WeChat account has fewer than two hundred friends.

Any one of them is a big shot in the Chinese business world whose every move can cause an earthquake.

There are energy tycoons, financial giants, and heads of major families in the capital.

Shen Wanzhou's WeChat Moments was completely blank.

In the seven years since she registered, she has never posted a single status update.

In the eyes of these bigwigs, she was nothing more than a heartless business harvesting machine.

She tapped the camera icon and selected the photo of her back that she had just taken.

My finger hovered above the caption input box, my fingertips trembling slightly.

All I could think about was, "Name your price, I want to buy this chef."

The vinegar jar overturned completely in my heart, and the sour taste filled my entire chest.

She gritted her teeth and forcefully typed two words on the nine-key keyboard.

"mine."

There are no punctuation marks, and no extra explanations.

It was brief yet carried an undeniable air of possessiveness and domineering attitude.

Press the send button hard with your thumb.

The green progress bar flashed by.

The status was sent successfully, and the apron photo was posted on the lonely homepage of my WeChat Moments.

After doing all this.

Shen Wanzhou was like a child who had done something wrong and was afraid of being caught by the adults.

He flipped the phone over and slammed it onto the marble bar counter.

She covered her burning cheeks with both hands, turned around and ran upstairs in a flash.

The rabbit slippers made a hurried thud as they stepped on the wooden floor.

In the kitchen.

Chen Yuan tightened the faucet.

Pick up the dry towel hanging on the wall and wipe the water stains off the back of your hands.

I could hear the hurried footsteps fading away on the stairs.

He shook his head, a soft glow appearing in his eyes.

I hung the towel back in its place and turned around to pour myself a glass of water.

Who would have thought that the person who could stir up a storm in the stock market would now be content to be a cook?

Meanwhile, in Jianghai City, outside of Cloudtop Manor, a level 10 tsunami struck at that moment.

Inside a top-tier private club in Jianghai City, where the night view is bustling.

Several tycoon executives were discussing a deal worth over 100 million in a private room.

Cigar smoke swirled at the top of the booth, creating a relaxed and harmonious atmosphere.

Someone habitually refreshed their WeChat Moments.

My gaze swept over the latest update.

Next to the eternally silent black profile picture of "Chairman Shen," a photo of a man washing dishes from behind suddenly appeared.

The caption consisted of only two dry words: "Mine".

Clang.

A Romanée-Conti wine glass worth hundreds of thousands of yuan slipped from the boss's hand.

The wine splashed onto the Persian carpet, staining the floor and turning the trousers red.

"Mr. Li, what's wrong? Why are your hands shaking?" the person next to him asked, frowning.

Mr. Li's face was deathly pale, and his hand holding the phone trembled like a leaf.

"Shen...the richest woman in the Shen family...posted on WeChat Moments."

With that one sentence, the entire private room fell into a deathly silence.

Everyone instinctively pulled out their phones and frantically opened WeChat.

After confirming the post, only rapid breathing could be heard in the private room.

Those usually ruthless and decisive big shots were all sweating profusely.

At the same time.

At the revolving door of a top-tier club in Beijing.

The board members, who had just finished discussing the cross-border merger and acquisition deal, also saw this status update.

"Who exactly is this man?"

"For Shen Wanzhou to personally post pictures to assert her ownership, and even make him wear an apron and wash dishes at home?"

"That figure looks young; could he be the heir of some reclusive family in the capital?"

Countless speculations swept through the entire Chinese business community like a storm.

That mysterious figure, whose face was never even shown, became an unattainable taboo in everyone's eyes.

Public relations departments of major companies were called in overnight to work overtime.

They projected the photos onto the huge conference room screen.

Hundreds of people frantically zoomed in on the images, searching for clues.

They tried to deduce some clues from the pattern of the apron and the material of the sink.

All business giants understand an ironclad truth.

Anyone who can figure out the background of the man washing dishes in the photo.

Whoever does that can do whatever they want in Jianghai City and even the entire North.

Those old folks who once wanted to marry their sons into the Shen family sighed repeatedly.

He completely gave up on the idea of ​​climbing the social ladder.

Who would dare to steal a woman from a living devil who could even subdue Shen Wanzhou?

Unless they think their family is living too long.

First floor of Genting Manor.

Uncle Fu was squatting next to the trash can in the corner of the hall.

They picked up the multi-billion dollar contracts that Shen Wanzhou had torn to pieces, one by one.

He sighed, thinking that the Bai family had really offended an ancestor they shouldn't have this time.

This is a stepping stone delivered right to the door for the boss to protect her husband and establish her authority.

He sorted out the scraps of paper, preparing to take them to the shredder for complete destruction.

Just then.

His custom-made cell phone, which was in the inside pocket of his tuxedo, suddenly rang shrilly.

This is a confidential number known only to top executives.

The phone rang for only two seconds before he could answer it.

Another call came in aggressively.

The notification sounds overlapped wildly, making the fabric on his chest feel numb.

Uncle Fu placed the shredded paper on the table and took out his phone with a puzzled look on his face.

The names flashing on the screen were all big names on the Forbes list.

Chairman Zhang, President Wang, Richest Man Li...

One call after another flooded in, causing the phone system to freeze for a full three seconds.

The screen even got a little hot to the touch due to the high frequency of heat generation.

These important figures usually don't make a single phone call in a year, and they act all high and mighty.

Why is everyone bombarding us like we planned this?

Could it be that the manor has been targeted by a nuclear missile?

He swallowed hard and wiped the sweat from his trousers with his fingers.

I carefully swiped the first answer button.

Place the receiver to your ear.

Before he could even utter a sound, he was feeding her.

The voice of the chairman of Wantai Group, now distorted, came from the other end of the phone.

His voice was filled with barely concealed shock and ingratiation.

In less than a minute, Uncle Fu's personal cell phone was bombarded with calls from CEOs of various conglomerates: "Manager Fu, is Chairman Shen getting married?!"