“Niên Chi Vị?”

Luc Chinh stopped.

For a second, he thought he had heard wrong.

The assistant nodded.

“Yes. The nationwide bakery chain.”

“Why would they cancel cooperation with us?”

The assistant hesitated.

“Because the founder personally sent the notice.”

Luc Chinh frowned.

“The founder?”

He looked at the document in his assistant’s hand.

“Who is it?”

The assistant slowly answered:

“To Niem.”

Silence.

The name seemed to hit him harder than expected.

For some reason, his first reaction was disbelief.

“Impossible.”

His assistant looked confused.

“Mr. Luc?”

Luc Chinh took the document.

The cancellation notice was simple.

Professional.

Cold.

No explanation.

Only one sentence:

“Due to strategic adjustments, Niên Chi Vị will terminate all current cooperation agreements with Luc Corporation.”

Signed:

To Niem.

His fingers tightened around the paper.

For three years, he had watched his wife wake up before sunrise, knead dough, clean ovens and stand behind a small bakery counter.

Six thousand yuan a month.

That was all he thought she earned.

A small business.

A hobby.

Something cute but insignificant.

But now…

The company that had hundreds of stores across the country had just personally terminated cooperation with him.

And the person behind it was his ex-wife.

---

At noon, Luc Chinh searched the internet.

At first, he only wanted to confirm that it was a coincidence.

Then he saw the news.

“Founder of Niên Chi Vị reveals identity after five years of anonymous management.”

The photo attached made his entire body freeze.

It was To Niem.

Not wearing an apron.

Not standing in the small fifteen-square-meter bakery.

But sitting in a conference room surrounded by executives.

Calm.

Elegant.

Confident.

The article said:

“Ms. To Niem founded Niên Chi Vị at the age of twenty-seven. Starting from one small bakery, she built the company into a national franchise brand with more than 1,200 stores.”

Luc Chinh read the sentence again.

And again.

His mind went blank.

The woman he had laughed at.

The woman he thought was not good enough to stand beside him.

Was the founder of a company whose value exceeded everything he had worked for.

His phone suddenly rang.

It was Tien Vi.

“Chinh, have you seen the news?”

Her voice sounded nervous.

“Yeah.”

A pause.

Then she said:

“Maybe there is some misunderstanding.”

Luc Chinh didn’t answer.

Because he suddenly remembered something.

Every year when the company announced his bonus, everyone congratulated him.

A huge amount of money.

Everyone said he was talented.

Lucky.

Successful.

But his wife had always smiled and said:

“You deserve it.”

He thought she was just being supportive.

He never wondered why his boss always personally thanked her during company dinners.

He never wondered why important partners always treated her with respect.

Because in his eyes…

She was just the woman who made bread.

---

That evening, Luc Chinh returned home earlier than usual.

The house was silent.

Too silent.

Before, when he opened the door, To Niem would always come out.

“You’re back?”

“Have you eaten?”

“Do you want some tea?”

He used to find it annoying.

Sometimes he even thought:

Why does she always wait for me?

Now…

He stood at the entrance.

Waiting.

But nobody came.

Only silence answered him.

For the first time, he realized how empty this house was without her.

He walked to the shoe cabinet.

Her canvas shoes were gone.

The ones covered with flour.

The ones he once told her looked embarrassing when his colleagues visited.

He opened the drawer.

Inside was a small notebook.

His name was written on the cover.

Luc Chinh hesitated.

Then opened it.

The first page was from eight years ago.

“Today Chinh failed his first business project. He pretended he wasn’t sad, but he stayed outside the company until midnight.”

The second page.

“Paid 800,000 yuan for his debt. He said he would return it someday. I don’t need him to remember the money. I only hope he remembers that someone believed in him.”

His breathing became heavier.

Another page.

“His mother needs surgery. I transferred the money today. I told him it was company insurance.”

Another.

“Today he received the annual bonus. He smiled so happily. I hope he never knows that I was the person who helped create this opportunity.”

Luc Chinh stopped turning pages.

His hands began to shake.

At the bottom of the last page was a sentence.

“I used to think love meant giving someone everything.”

“Later I realized…”

“Sometimes giving everything only teaches someone that you have nothing left to lose.”

---

The next morning, Luc Chinh went to the bakery.

The small fifteen-square-meter shop.

The place he had never considered important.

When he arrived, the door was open.

Customers were lining up.

Employees greeted each other.

Everyone knew her.

“Good morning, President To.”

The words made him stop.

President.

Not wife.

Not Mrs. Luc.

President To.

Through the glass window, he saw her.

To Niem was wearing a simple white shirt.

She was explaining a new recipe to the staff.

Calm.

Focused.

Beautiful.

Nothing like the woman who signed divorce papers while covered in flour.

He walked inside.

The moment she saw him, her expression didn’t change.

“Mr. Luc.”

That unfamiliar way of addressing him hurt more than anger.

He swallowed.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

To Niem looked at him.

“Tell you what?”

“Everything.”

A faint smile appeared on her lips.

“You never asked.”

Luc Chinh was speechless.

Because that was true.

For three years, he never asked about her dreams.

Her work.

Her world.

He only saw the apron.

The flour.

The six thousand yuan.

Not the woman behind them.

“I thought…”

He stopped.

Because the words sounded ridiculous.

“I thought you only made bread.”

To Niem looked at him quietly.

Then she said:

“And I thought you loved me.”

The sentence was soft.

But it completely destroyed him.

Before he could answer, a man walked into the bakery.

He wore an expensive suit and smiled when he saw To Niem.

“President To, the acquisition team is waiting for your approval.”

Luc Chinh turned.

“Acquisition?”

The man nodded politely.

“Yes. Niên Chi Vị will complete the international expansion next month.”

Then he looked at To Niem.

“Congratulations, Mrs. To.”

Mrs. To.

Not Mrs. Luc.

Luc Chinh stood frozen.

Because suddenly he understood.

He hadn’t lost a wife who earned six thousand yuan a month.

He had lost the woman who built an empire while standing quietly beside him.

And the worst part was…

She didn’t leave because she hated him.

She left because she finally realized…

She deserved someone who could see her.