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... te. If anyone heard of this, they would laugh to death. She sure did well. She directly married the person!

In front of the Bureau of Affairs, Anran lowered her head and looked at the red book in her hands. After a while, she looked at Su Yicheng and said, “Let’s go in and get a divorce now.” In the past, when she watched television and read the newspaper, she had found it inconceivable and incomprehensible when she heard about flash weddings and flash divorces. However, she didn’t think ...

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Shen Tang, a struggling actress, finds herself transported into the pages of a book as the contracted wife of the domineering CEO, Gu Huai’an.

She doesn’t have to fulfill any wifely duties or do much of anything. All she needs to do is occasionally attend family gatherings and create the illusion of a loving couple. In return, she receives a monthly payment of 5 million yuan and stands to gain 200 million yuan when they divorce.

Shen Tang can barely contain her laughter. Could there be such a good deal?

In the book, Shen Tang falls in love with Gu Huai’an and foolishly hopes to turn their contractual marriage into a real one, but in the end, she gains nothing.

Thinking about this outcome, Shen Tang shakes her head and sighs. What a naive girl, unable to see things clearly.

Wouldn’t it be great to live a stable life and walk away with 300 million yuan after two years of marriage?

Shen Tang decides to fully embrace a carefree life.

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Gu Huai’an gets a second chance at life.

He remembers how Shen Tang messed things up in their previous life.

However, he waits and waits, but Shen Tang remains silent.

He asks the butler, “What has my wife been up to lately?”

The butler awkwardly smiles and says, “Madam spends her days shopping and admiring handsome men.”

Gu Huai’an: …

By a stroke of luck, Gu Huai’an discovers he can hear Shen Tang’s thoughts.

But wait, wasn’t she supposed to be head over heels in love with him? Why has she become…

Initially, Gu Huai’an only wanted to endure the two-year contract period and divorce this woman.

However, later on, he kneels down and humbly pleads, “Tang Tang, can we not get divorced?”

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“Y-young master, the Lord is requesting your presence.”

I looked at myself in the mirror as a maid's voice, laced with trepidation, reached my ears.

“Tell him I'll be there shortly.”

“I understand, y-young master.”

I paid no mind to her quivering presence, my gaze fixed on my reflection.

And this is exactly why I despise this character, Yes, He is a villain with my name but does it matter, no, the problem is this guy's weight he is so heavy that this tub of lard is weighing me down, literally.

For someone who prides themselves on muscle, nothing's worse than “fat,” and this guy before me? Well, he's a prime example of that.

“I suppose I need a workout.”

Reaching the door, exhaustion gripped me and I found myself gasping for breath. It was unbelievable – this body was so darn heavy.

After an arduous struggle, I finally made my way out of the room, causing servants carrying a litter¹ to scurry over. They lowered it, creating a path for me to step onto it.

I tried to ignore the spectacle – it was this pampering that turned this fatty into a giant tire. Pushing the annoyance aside, I began to move, managing only about 10 steps before my legs gave out.

Damn it. Seriously? I collapsed, leaving the twenty servants to hastily lift me and place me onto the litter. For me, it felt more like a stretcher. There I was, sprawled on it like some mountain, panting heavily.

“You damn god! I hope the protagonist of your favorite novel gets NTRed!”

“We're here, young master.”

Can you believe it? his father's office is just thirty steps away from this pumpkin room, yet he insists on using a litter.

“Give me a hand.”

I ordered while cursing this hefty body under my breath.

“Oh, come, come, my dear child. How was your day?”

I glanced at the middle-aged man, his face exuding warmth and care.

As for my feelings? This old man right here is the reason this chubby exists. Not that I give a darn about my indulgent father.

“I'm alright, Dad.”

Yes, imagine this: as a noble, this old man spoiled this pumpkin so much that he thinks he can go around scolding the mansion's maids and servants.

“Take a seat. Hey, fetch his chair!”

You might wonder why he doesn't sit on a regular chair. Well, that's because the chair is custom-made to accommodate this hippo-sized frame.

“What's going on, Dad?”

Seriously, why would he summon this big old hippo over to his quarters? There's gotta be a reason for it....

“Your fiancee is coming tomorrow”

……………………………………………………………

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