Breakfast ends the way it always does lately.
Bael finishes first, already standing and checking his watch before Grandmother and I are even halfway through our food.
"We should leave in ten minutes," he says, not really looking at .
Right.
The hospital appointnt.
I nod and finish the last of my al, trying not to rush even though he’s clearly waiting.
Grandmother sets down her tea with that precise little click she always makes. "Make sure Dr. Xi knows if anything feels off."
"I will."
Bael is already walking toward the door, phone in hand, probably checking emails or ssages or whatever crisis is happening at the company today.
I follow.
***
The car ride is silent except for the sound of Bael’s fingers tapping against his screen.
He sits beside in the back, completely absorbed, and I watch the city pass by outside the window.
Buildings getting taller, traffic getting heavier, people rushing to work or wherever they need to be.
Normal people with normal lives.
Not married to billionaire CEOs, not pregnant at twenty-two, not riding in cars that cost more than houses.
We pull up to the hospital and Bael finally looks at .
"Shouldn’t take long," he says.
"Yeah."
Then he reaches into his jacket and pulls out a card.
Black, sleek, heavier than it looks when he hands it over.
I turn it over in my hands, running my thumb across the smooth surface. No numbers visible, no limit printed anywhere.
Because people who have cards like this don’t need limits.
"Forgot to give you this after the wedding," Bael says. "Use it for whatever you need."
Whatever I need.
The words feel too big, too open.
"Thanks," I manage.
He’s already back on his phone. "The driver and security will wait for you."
Then the door is opening and I’m stepping out, the card still warm from his hand.
***
Dr. Xi’s office is on the third floor.
The appointnt is routine, vitals checked, questions asked, everything progressing the way it should apparently.
"Baby is developing well," Dr. Xi says, making notes on his tablet without looking up. "No complications so far. Keep taking the prenatal vitamins, drink plenty of water, and avoid heavy lifting."
"Okay."
He glances at over his glasses. "You’re doing very well, Young Master Wuchen."
That na still doesn’t sound like it belongs to .
He hands over a small bag with vitamin bottles and other supplents, walks to the door, and that’s it.
Fifteen minutes, maybe less.
Two n are waiting outside when I step into the hallway.
Both in dark suits, both straightening slightly when they see .
"Young Master," the taller one says, inclining his head.
His na is Liang Feng, I think. Broad shoulders, serious face, the kind of guy who looks like he could break soone in half without trying.
The other is Qiao Jun, younger, leaner, but just as intimidating in his own way.
Both assigned to follow everywhere since Uncle Ming showed up at the wedding.
"Are we heading back to the estate now?" Liang Feng asks.
I pause.
Actually...
"No. I need to go sowhere first."
***
I’d ssaged Mrs. Zhou yesterday, and asked if she had ti to et up.
She’d replied almost imdiately, suggesting a restaurant downtown, said she’d love to see , and asked how I was doing.
And I can’t just show up empty-handed.
Not after what she did at the wedding.
She saved my life, pulled back before that chandelier ca down, she didn’t even hesitate.
A simple thank you won’t cut it, not in this world where everything has weight and value and aning beyond words.
I need to bring her sothing.
Sothing expensive enough to match her status.
And Bael just handed a black card with no limit.
Perfect timing, honestly.
"Take to Ciel Brillant," I say.
Liang Feng doesn’t even blink. "Yes, Young Master."
***
I’ve never been to Ciel Brillant before.
Never had a reason to.
Never had the money to even think about it.
But I’ve seen it in magazines, heard people talk about it, know it’s where the seriously rich go when they want sothing that screams wealth without having to say it out loud.
The building itself is ridiculous.
All glass and white stone, modern and clean and so carefully designed it barely looks real.
We pull up to the entrance and I step out, Liang Feng and Qiao Jun flanking imdiately, and I have to stop for a second just to take it in.
This is where I’m shopping now.
This is my life.
The thought hits strange, half disbelief, half sothing that feels dangerously close to excitent.
Inside is even more overwhelming.
High ceilings, marble floors so polished I can see my reflection, lighting that makes everything look like it belongs in a museum.
Display cases showcase handbags like they’re priceless artifacts.
Shoes arranged on pedestals under spotlights.
Scarves draped just so, each one probably worth more than my family’s monthly rent used to be.
I’m still staring when soone approaches.
A woman, young, wearing a suit so perfectly tailored it probably cost as much as everything she’s selling.
"Welco to Ciel Brillant, how may I—"
She stops mid-sentence.
Her eyes go wide, just for a second, before training kicks in and smooths it away.
Oh.
Right.
The wedding photos have been everywhere.
"Young Master Wuchen," she says, recovering quickly and bowing at the perfect angle. "It’s an honor to have you here. Please, let call our manager."
Before I can say anything, she’s already moving, speaking quietly into an earpiece I didn’t even notice she was wearing.
Less than a minute later, a man appears.
Older, maybe fifties, impeccably dressed, smile warm and genuine in a way that feels practiced but not fake.
"Young Master Wuchen!" He extends his hand, enthusiasm barely contained. "I’m Bai Yiran, the manager here. What an absolute pleasure to have you visit us today. How may we assist you?"
I shake his hand, trying not to look as overwheld as I feel.
"I’m looking for a gift," I say. "Sothing special."
His smile gets even warr. "Of course, of course! Please, follow . We have so truly exceptional pieces that just arrived this week."
He leads deeper into the store, past displays that make my eyes hurt just thinking about the price tags.
We stop at a section dedicated entirely to handbags.
No prices visible.
Naturally.
"This," Manager Bai says, gesturing to a sleek black bag on a glass pedestal like it’s a religious icon, "is from our exclusive collaboration line. Only fifty pieces exist in the entire world."
I look at it.
It’s beautiful, I’ll give it that.
Clean lines, subtle logo, the kind of thing that screams expensive precisely because it doesn’t need to scream at all.
"How much?" I ask.
"Forty-two million yuan."
I don’t flinch.
Wow.
I don’t hesitate, I just nod like that’s a completely reasonable amount of money to spend on a bag.
"I’ll take it."
Manager Bai’s smile could power a small city. "Wonderful choice! Shall I have it wrapped for gifting?"
"Yes, please."
While he’s handling that, another staff mber approaches with a different bag.
Smaller, more unique, sothing about it catches my eye imdiately.
"This just arrived yesterday," she says. "From our avant-garde collection. Very limited availability."
I study it.
Deep erald leather, gold hardware, structured but not stiff.
Not feminine, not masculine, sothing right in between that sohow works perfectly.
The kind of thing I could actually see myself carrying without feeling weird about it.
"I’ll take this one too," I say before I can overthink it.
"Excellent taste, Young Master!"
The transaction happens so smoothly it barely feels real.
Manager Bai handles everything himself, the black card sliding through without a single question or verification call.
No limits to check.
No approval needed.
Just... done.
The bags get wrapped with tissue paper and ribbons, placed in branded boxes, handed over with the kind of care usually reserved for newborns.
Liang Feng takes them without comnt, holding them like this is completely normal, like he escorts people on million-yuan shopping trips every single day.
Which he probably does.
"Thank you so much for visiting Ciel Brillant!" Manager Bai practically glows as he walks us to the exit. "Please, co see us again anyti. It would be our absolute honor to serve you."
I step back outside into afternoon sunlight that feels too bright after the carefully controlled lighting inside.
What just happened?
I just spent forty-two million yuan on a handbag.
Another several million on one for myself.
I didn’t even blink.
Because to Bael, to the Wuchens, it’s pocket change.
Nothing.
The thought settles warm and strange in my chest as I slide into the back seat of the car.
Liang Feng places the bags carefully in the trunk like they’re made of crystal.
Qiao Jun starts the engine.
This is actually my life now.
Black cards and ridiculous shopping trips and bodyguards who carry my purchases without question.
I lean back against the leather seats, watching the city slide past the tinted windows, and sothing like a laugh bubbles up in my chest.
Life as an oga married to a billionaire really isn’t so bad.
I pull out my phone and open my ssages, scrolling to Bael’s na.
My fingers move before I can think better of it.
*I just spent a lot of money. You might be going bankrupt soon.*
Send.
I stare at the ssage for a second, then smile and tuck my phone away.
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