Chapter 4: Three Years into Marriage—Are They Truly Deeply in Love as Husband and Wife?

Wen Zhixia frowned slightly, about to speak, when the secretary’s call came through.

“President Gu, everyone has arrived.”

Gu Pingsheng ended the call and pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of her lips. “There are matters at the office. What happened just now won’t happen again.”

Wen Zhixia watched his departing figure and suddenly called out, “Pingsheng, do you know what day it is tomorrow?”

At that moment, Gu Pingsheng’s phone rang again, conveniently drowning out her soft voice. He answered as he strode out.

Wen Zhixia turned, gazing at the empty wall—a wedding photo was missing from its place.

When they married, both were at the height of their careers, so busy that even sleep was a luxury. On their wedding day, they spent barely over an hour at the registry office to collect their certificates.

No wedding, no ring, not even a single photograph.

Gu Pingsheng promised her that when the company was on track, he would make it up to her with a grand ceremony. Wen Zhixia was never one to care about such things—for her, even the grandest wedding was merely for others to see.

Yet she felt there should at least be a wedding photo, displayed at the very center of their living room.

Now that Gu Xia Group was flourishing, she thought he could finally fulfill this small wish. But he... never brought it up again.

The phone buzzed.

It was a message from the bridal studio: “Dear Ms. Wen, your wedding photography is scheduled for tomorrow… We look forward to serving you.”

Jun Yue Club—the ultimate playground for men, a notorious den of extravagance.

Inside a private room, men reveled in pleasure, toasts clinking, and the hostesses clung to them as if they were boneless.

The dim light cast shadows across his chiseled features and long, fox-like eyes. His bespoke suit was somber and dignified; lounging lazily in his chair, he exuded a natural command that left many hostesses staring in dazed admiration.

He had come today to catch up with a few business associates, but found little amusement in it. After swirling his glass and taking a couple of sips, he signaled his intent to leave.

“President Gu, leaving so soon? The main event hasn’t even started yet… Or are you afraid our little President Wen might find out?” someone teased, causing laughter to ripple through the room.

Wen Zhixia—young President Wen. Even though she had left Gu Xia Group two years ago, those who had witnessed her brilliance in the business world still habitually addressed her as “young President Wen.”

“Please stay, President Gu. Today is a special day—there’s a fresh batch of girls, all young and tender as dewdrops,” said the club’s manager, her makeup heavy but her allure undimmed by her forty-odd years.

Gu Pingsheng’s lips curled into a lazy smile. “Sister Zhang, haven’t you heard them say I’m a married man?”

Sister Zhang chuckled obsequiously. “No matter how good things are at home, can they ever compare to the excitement outside? A man, after all, can’t spend his whole life with just one woman, can he? Even if little President Wen is lovely, when you see the same face every day, it’s only natural to crave a change of scenery. That’s what keeps life interesting, isn’t it?”

Especially in this circle, there were no secrets. Gu Pingsheng was hardly a saint; not long ago, he’d even kept a mistress.

Her new batch of girls were all striking—she refused to believe Gu Pingsheng could remain unmoved.

“If the goods are as good as you say, make sure to introduce them to the other presidents later. I have things to attend to,” he replied, clearly uninterested tonight.

“President Gu! President Gu! The girls will be here any minute.” Seeing he was truly about to leave, Sister Zhang grew anxious. This was a major client—she couldn’t let him slip away so easily.

Yet, seeing how impervious he was, she began to wonder if the rumors were true.

Three years of marriage, and the couple was still deeply in love?

“Sister Zhang, help me!”

Before Gu Pingsheng could open the door, a woman stumbled in—her clothes torn, clutching her collar tightly. Her eyes shone with tears, yet there was a clear, stubborn resilience in her gaze.

Xiaxia?