The Primordial Record - Chapter 706 The Worth Of A Creator

"In her previous life, she is used by her first love to send her own company into the tiger's den. She becomes bankrupt, gets kicked out of the house by her father, and becomes the target of ridicule by the family. Worst of all, she believes her best friend's lies, thinking that everything was done by her ‘husband’. Under her best friend's ploys, she almost kills him and is ultimately sentenced to prison, where she dies of depression.

Fu Nanli, the flight captain and sole heir to the Fu Consortium, lost his memory in an accident.

He could not remember anything about his family, identity, or status. He only remembered Wen Qiao, who had risked his life to save her before the accident.

“You are?”

Wen Qiao said shamelessly, “I’m your wife.”

Young Master Fu was confused, but he only remembered one person. If she said yes, then so be it.

The cold and noble Prince Charming had been snatched away by a wild girl from nowhere.

All the socialites in Harbor City were enraged.

All the socialites gathered 100 million yuan. They had to tear off the fake mask of a certain vixen, Wen Qiao.

However, all they got, in the end, was the marriage of the century.

The wife he got after losing his memory, when he regained his memory, would still be the person he loved the most in his life. If everything was guided by fate, then he would be grateful for such an encounter, that was what Fu Nanli believed.

yuan to rip off the vixen Wen Qiao’s mask and expose her lies. Yet, there is nothing they can do to stop the ‘wedding of the century’ from taking place.

Just like that, one hundred million yuan is gone in a flash!

Uttering cries of anguish, the socialites simply can’t fathom why this is happening. “Everyone says Young Master Fu is shrewd and adept at scheming. Why did he fall for the deceitful little vixen?!”

With an arrogant gaze, the man muses dotingly, “If I didn’t play along, how was I to abduct the little fox and take her home?”

“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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