“Miss, will you go back to your old house?”
“I’m not coming back.”
“So where are we going?”
I looked at the city lights sliding past the car window.
Then I gave him an address I had not visited in almost three years.
“Wan Sheng headquarters.”
The driver glanced at me through the rearview mirror.
Perhaps he thought he had heard wrong.
Wan Sheng Group was one of the largest hotel and commercial-property companies in the city.
And Van Lan Hall—
the wedding venue Luc Canh Xuyen had so generously handed to Lam Vi—
was one of its properties.
What almost no one knew was that my late grandfather had founded Wan Sheng.
And the old business card I had left with Manager Phuong carried the seal of the group’s largest private shareholder.
Mine.
Three years earlier, when I decided to marry Luc Canh Xuyen, I voluntarily stepped away from the family business.
He had always hated people who approached him because of status and money.
So I never told him exactly how much my mother had left me.
I wanted our marriage to be simple.
Ordinary.
Clean.
Looking back, I almost wanted to laugh.
I had hidden my wealth because I wanted him to know the real me.
Meanwhile, he had hidden his contempt because he wanted to keep a woman who would never leave.
At eight thirty that evening, I entered Wan Sheng through the private underground entrance.
The security director recognized me immediately.
“Miss Hua?”
“Yes.”
He straightened instinctively.
“Chairman Hua said you had no intention of returning to management.”
“I changed my mind.”
His eyes widened.
I walked directly to the top floor.
My uncle, Hua Minh Thanh, was still in his office.
When he saw me, he removed his glasses.
“Finally tired of pretending to be poor?”
I sat opposite him.
“I wasn’t pretending to be poor.”
“You drove a twelve-year-old car while owning seventeen percent of Wan Sheng.”
“It still ran.”
He sighed.
Then he noticed my expression.
“What did Luc Canh Xuyen do?”
I placed my phone on the table.
Lam Vi’s post was still open.
Van Lan Hall glittered behind her.
My uncle read the caption.
“It turns out that true favoritism will make people fear nothing.”
His face slowly darkened.
“Wasn’t that your wedding hall?”
“Yes.”
“And she’s celebrating her birthday there?”
“Yes.”
“Where is Luc Canh Xuyen?”
“Drinking with friends.”
My uncle stared at me.
Then he laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because he was furious.
“I told your mother that boy was arrogant.”
“I know.”
“And you nearly burned yourself alive saving him.”
“I remember.”
“Then what do you want to do?”
I looked toward the illuminated skyline outside his office.
“Nothing dramatic.”
My uncle raised an eyebrow.
“Nothing dramatic?”
“I only want everything returned to its proper owner.”
I opened the folder I had brought.
“First, freeze all privileges Luc Group receives from Wan Sheng.”
His smile disappeared.
There were currently four cooperation agreements between the two companies.
Preferential banquet pricing.
Commercial leasing priority.
Two real-estate projects.
And, most importantly, a financing guarantee for Luc Group’s new waterfront development.
My uncle leaned back.
“That guarantee is worth almost two hundred million.”
“I know.”
“If Wan Sheng withdraws it, the banks may reassess their credit line.”
“I know.”
He studied me carefully.
“Are you sure?”
I remembered Luc Canh Xuyen’s voice.
She loves me like that.
Would she really break up over something this small?
I smiled.
“Completely.”
At nine the next morning, I returned to Van Lan Hall.
Manager Phuong had prepared every document.
The electronic approval Luc Canh Xuyen’s assistant submitted was printed on the first page.
My supposed signature appeared at the bottom.
I looked at it once.
Then asked:
“Who uploaded this?”
“Mr. Luc’s assistant, Tran Kiet.”
“And the system accepted it?”
“He used a VIP authorization code.”
“Whose code?”
Manager Phuong hesitated.
“Yours.”
I finally understood.
Three months earlier, during wedding preparations, I had allowed Luc Canh Xuyen’s assistant temporary access so he could confirm catering and guest arrangements.
The access should only have been used for our wedding.
Instead, they used it to cancel it.
I closed the file.
“Revoke every authorization associated with Luc Group.”
Manager Phuong nodded immediately.
“And Van Lan Hall?”
I looked around.
Workers were already changing the decorations.
My champagne-colored wedding flowers had been removed.
Silver balloons for Lam Vi’s birthday had replaced them.
“Restore it.”
Manager Phuong looked surprised.
“For the wedding?”
“No.”
I ran my hand across the table I had personally selected.
“For a business reception.”
“When?”
“The same day.”
Her eyes widened.
“The wedding date?”
“Yes.”
“And Ms. Lam’s birthday?”
I smiled.
“Cancel it.”
At eleven twenty, Luc Canh Xuyen finally called.
I watched his name flash across the screen.
Once.
Twice.
Five times.
I answered on the sixth.
“Hua Duong.”
His voice was irritated.
“Why did Van Lan cancel Lam Vi’s event?”
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t know?”
“Yes.”
“You were at the hotel last night.”
“So?”
There was silence.
Then his tone hardened.
“Did you cause trouble?”
I almost admired him.
Three days before our wedding, he had secretly given away our venue.
Yet when consequences appeared, I was the one causing trouble.
“What trouble?”
“Hua Duong, don’t act stupid.”
I said nothing.
He took a breath.
“Vi Vi has already invited everyone. The hotel suddenly says the venue is unavailable.”
“That’s unfortunate.”
His voice became colder.
“Call them and fix it.”
I smiled.
“Why would I?”
“Because you have been dealing with the hotel.”
“For our wedding.”
“Exactly.”
“Our wedding that you canceled.”
He fell silent.
For several seconds, I could almost hear him thinking.
Finally:
“It’s only the banquet. We’re still getting married.”
That sentence erased the last trace of softness inside me.
He genuinely believed marriage was something he could keep regardless of how he treated me.
“I see.”
My calmness apparently reassured him.
His tone softened slightly.
“I knew you’d understand.”
Then he added:
“Choose another hall. Something smaller is fine.”
I closed my eyes briefly.
“Okay.”
“Good.”
He hung up.
He never asked where I was.
Never asked whether I was hurt.
Never explained.
He simply assumed I had surrendered.
Again.
That afternoon, I went somewhere else.
The Civil Affairs Bureau.
Not to register a marriage with Luc Canh Xuyen.
To collect a marriage certificate that had already been issued.
The clerk smiled while checking the database.
“Congratulations, Miss Hua.”
I looked at the red booklet in my hand.
“Thank you.”
The groom’s name printed beside mine was not Luc Canh Xuyen.
It was Tieu Duong Trạch.
A man Luc Canh Xuyen knew very well.
And disliked even more.
Tieu Duong Trạch had grown up with us.
His family controlled one of the strongest investment groups in the south.
He and I had been engaged by our grandfathers when we were children, but both families abandoned the arrangement when we became adults.
We remained friends.
Nothing more.
Until the night before.
When I called him and said:
“I need a legal husband.”
He had remained silent for almost ten seconds.
Then asked:
“Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“That depends.”
Another pause.
“Where are you?”
And that was all.
No questioning.
No mocking.
No demanding explanations while I was still bleeding inside.
He flew back overnight.
That morning, we registered the marriage.
It was practical.
Quiet.
And entirely my decision.
Luc Canh Xuyen discovered none of this.
For the next two days, he was busy trying to restore Lam Vi’s birthday banquet.
He called Wan Sheng managers.
He pressured suppliers.
He even contacted my uncle without realizing who he was speaking to.
Every answer was the same.
“Van Lan Hall is unavailable.”
Then something worse happened.
The bank called Luc Group.
Their waterfront financing guarantee had been withdrawn.
His father exploded.
“What happened with Wan Sheng?”
Luc Canh Xuyen frowned.
“I’ll handle it.”
“Handle it? Chairman Hua’s office canceled three cooperation privileges in one morning!”
His father slammed the documents on the desk.
“Did you offend someone?”
“No.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
Then his assistant hesitantly entered.
“Mr. Luc…”
“What?”
“The Van Lan cancellation file has been flagged.”
Luc Canh Xuyen looked up.
“Flagged for what?”
“Unauthorized use of a shareholder-level access code.”
His expression changed.
“Whose code?”
The assistant lowered his voice.
“Miss Hua Duong’s.”
Luc Canh Xuyen stared at him.
“What shareholder code?”
The assistant swallowed.
And before he could answer—
Luc Canh Xuyen’s father abruptly stood.
“Hua Duong?”
“Yes.”
The older man’s face slowly changed.
“Which Hua family is she from?”
Luc Canh Xuyen frowned.
“Her father was Hua Duc.”
His father stared at him as if he had suddenly become an idiot.
“Hua Duc?”
“Yes.”
“The Hua Duc whose father founded Wan Sheng?”
Silence.
Luc Canh Xuyen’s expression emptied.
For the first time in seven years, he discovered that the woman he had assumed would always depend on him had never needed his family at all.
The wedding morning arrived.
At seven thirty, Luc Canh Xuyen’s family gathered at his house.
Red decorations covered the entrance.
The wedding convoy waited outside.
His mother called me.
No answer.
His aunt called.
No answer.
Finally, Luc Canh Xuyen called personally.
Once.
Twice.
Ten times.
At eight fifteen, I answered.
His voice was tense.
“Hua Duong, where are you?”
I looked through the car window.
We were already leaving the city.
“On the road.”
He exhaled.
“Then hurry. Everyone is waiting.”
“I won’t make it.”
His breathing stopped.
“What do you mean?”
“You don’t need to pick me up.”
“Hua Duong.”
His voice became dangerously low.
“Stop messing around.”
I almost smiled.
“Luc Canh Xuyen, I’m not messing around.”
“Then where are you?”
“I registered my marriage already.”
Silence.
Then:
“What?”
“I’m married.”
For several seconds, no sound came from the other end.
Then he laughed.
A short, disbelieving laugh.
“Who are you trying to scare?”
“No one.”
“Hua Duong, we’re getting married today.”
“No.”
I looked down at the red certificate in my hand.
“You were getting married today.”
His voice finally cracked.
“To whom did you register?”
Before I could answer, someone beside me reached over and took the phone.
Tieu Duong Trạch spoke calmly.
“Me.”
The other end went completely silent.
Then Luc Canh Xuyen exploded.
“TIEU DUONG TRẠCH?”
I took the phone back.
“You wanted to test whether I would leave you over a wedding hall.”
I paused.
“Now you have your answer.”
And I hung up.
At almost the same moment, Luc Canh Xuyen received another call.
From his father.
“Get to Van Lan Hall immediately.”
“Why?”
“Wan Sheng is holding an emergency investment reception.”
“I don’t care—”
“You will care.”
His father’s voice shook.
“The person taking control of Hua family voting rights is being formally introduced.”
Luc Canh Xuyen froze.
“Who?”
His father said the name.
“Hua Duong.”
An hour later, Luc Canh Xuyen walked into Van Lan Hall.
The decorations were exactly the ones I had chosen for our wedding.
Champagne roses.
Handmade sugar sculptures.
The eight-thousand-yuan dessert table he once called wasteful.
Everything had been restored.
Only there was no wedding.
Hundreds of investors stood beneath the lights.
My photograph filled the enormous screen.
Underneath were the words:
HUA DUONG
NEW EXECUTIVE SHAREHOLDER — WAN SHENG GROUP
Luc Canh Xuyen stopped in the doorway.
Then he saw me.
I stood at the center of the hall wearing the champagne-colored dress he had once helped me choose.
Tieu Duong Trạch stood beside me.
Lam Vi was there too.
She had apparently come thinking her birthday event had somehow been restored.
Her silver dress suddenly looked painfully out of place.
She stared at me.
Then at Luc Canh Xuyen.
And for the first time, neither of them looked confident.
A reporter approached.
“Miss Hua, we heard today was originally supposed to be your wedding day.”
I smiled.
“It was.”
“And Mr. Luc?”
I looked toward the man standing frozen at the entrance.
Then I answered calmly:
“Mr. Luc taught me something very valuable three days ago.”
The room fell quiet.
“A wedding hall can be changed.”
I glanced at the wedding ring now resting on my finger.
“So can the groom.”
