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... decorated his face. His lunge carried him forward, through the spray, and he pierced the metallic head of an Ancient Vanguard with all three prongs of his ethereal trident, firmly gripped with both hands. A crunching sound reverberated through the thin fog bank as he struck the monster and followed through. The fiery red-orange glowing weak points hadn’t been something he looked for in a long time, but target practice had become a part of his grind for no reason other than precision training. < ...

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He had always wished to live a new, ordinary life. That was his one and only wish.

But the world did not allow him to.

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

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“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.

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