Seven months after Shi Miao and Min Ting registered their marriage, they finally moved in together. At that time, the two still weren’t very familiar with each other.

Their colleagues were full of curiosity. Coming from an average family, how had she managed to marry into a prestigious family in Beijing’s elite circles? And how had she made Min Ting insist on marrying no one but her?

There was no such thing as “no one but her.” The marriage was merely a convenient arrangement, devoid of love.

Before the blind date that led to their engagement, the only interaction Shi Miao had ever had with Min Ting was years ago during a game of Truth or Dare, where she had kissed him on a dare.

But because so much time had passed, and they hadn’t known each other back then, he no longer remembered her.

Min Ting had only one criterion for his future spouse: she must not love him.

He didn’t have feelings to offer in return, and marriage, to him, was merely a way to placate his family.

Half a year after registering their marriage, they moved into their marital home. On the first night, he had a social engagement and returned home late.

Shi Miao had fallen asleep on the sofa in the living room. She seemed to be dreaming about something sad. Normally so composed and cool-headed, she was quietly sobbing in her sleep.

Min Ting called her name softly, “Shi Miao.”

She didn’t wake, and tears clung to the corners of her eyes.

After hesitating for a moment, he pulled her into his arms and comforted her for a long time.

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