Chinese wealthy family, my billionaire mother-in-law

He held the phone tightly, and it took him a while to come to his senses, accompanied by a sob at the top of his voice.

Later, he sent a text message to Chen Fang: "I owe you again."

The secretary said: "Mr. Chen didn't go to Paris, so he told me to refund the ticket that night."

……

Chen Fang's cell phone rang. After reading it, he smiled bitterly.

He twisted the ticket to Paris that he had just picked up into a ball and stood at the check-in counter of Beijing Airport, staring blankly at the whirring planes in the distance.

What the secretary didn't know was that Chen Fang had booked his own flight a few hours ago.

Chen Fang stayed at Jingnanwan Villa for the past three days, and he had trouble sleeping day and night. He had taken countless risks in a hail of bullets in his life, and Song Weiyu was the only one he dared not take as his own.

He was afraid that one day he would suddenly receive a mission and leave, never to come back.

In the past three days, he had thought seriously a lot, thinking about the future, thinking about ways, looking back on the first half of his life, and worrying about the second half.

Nothing could resist his love for that woman, so he decided to take a risk.

Maybe this time the gears of fate will turn for him, allowing him to be upright with her, and allowing them to spend the rest of their lives in peace.

He also knew that Fu Haitang didn't go to Paris either. He gave Fu Haitang three days, but he didn't pursue her to Paris.

So, fate begins to favor me, right?

He booked his own flight and wanted to fly to her immediately, hold her in his arms and tell her, "I will marry you."

But the text message he received before leaving told him that fate has abandoned you again.

A lifetime of missing out.

……

He threw away the ticket.

With your back to the boarding gate.

Lopsided.

……

Except for the ticket booking record, no one will know that this man was brave once.

——Paris, Ritz Hotel.

Li Nian was soaking in the bath and shouted: "Song Weiyu, get up! Go to the cocktail party with me tonight, hurry up, CHANEL will come to deliver the dress in a while!"

"No, I'm not in the mood."

After three days of madness, Song Weiyu didn't receive a single call from either of the two men.

Could they really be together?

At this moment, she was buried in the big bed, feeling extremely depressed. She was not in the mood to attend a cocktail party.

"I'm telling you it's a masked cocktail party. The French love to have these exciting events. Watch me crush them tonight with my oriental aesthetics..."

"Start now..."

Song Weiyu became excited when he heard the words "Masked Reception".

He stepped naked into Li Nian's bathtub and lay lazily, feeling the impact of the massage water ball on his waist.

Li Nian squinted his eyes and looked up and down: "Song Weiyu, are you going to have your breasts done behind my back?"

"I was born big and erect, there is nothing I can do about it." This is the truth.

……

Li Nian raised his head and applied the mask: "I said, is your wife really serious this time? She hasn't come to see you for three whole days! That's weird... No way? Isn't it possible that some little goblin is hanging around her waist?"

"He dares!"

"Why don't you dare? Hey... once the news of Fu Haitang's divorce spreads, all the little goblins in the capital will smell it and complain about it!"

"Who dares?"

Li Nian smiled sullenly under the mask: "Song Weiyu, you must be sick. I divorced you. Do you understand that divorce means that men and women get married without delay! Do you think Fu Haitang can be like Chen Fang and guard you without his reputation? ?”

Song Weiyu stared at the European-style retro lamp on the ceiling in a daze. At this moment, his heart was in a mess. It was so messy that he couldn't untie it. He wanted to cut it with a knife.

Li Nian looked at the messages sent by others on his mobile phone playfully, with a sly smile in his eyes:

"Don't think about Song Weiyu, enjoy the moment, and don't go home until you get drunk tonight."

"..."

After taking a shower, the two women sat in the large living room wearing nightgowns, watching the image designer who came to deliver the dresses, choosing the clothes one by one.

Li Nian chose a red heavy-duty short skirt.

Song Weiyu spent a long time choosing and felt that it was not interesting. The fashion that has been passed down for a hundred years is just those things over and over again.

Called the housekeeper of his villa in Paris: "Send me the magnolia cheongsam hand-painted by Master Zhang in the cloakroom to the Leeds Hotel. Choose a vicuña shawl. There is an imperial green jade bracelet in the safe. Bring it with the box." "

After hanging up the phone, the two began to arrange jewelry.

Li Nian was gossiping while choosing: "Are you going to marry Brother Chen directly after your divorce?"

"of course."

"Well, if the economic crisis hadn't trapped you back then, you and Brother Chen would have had several children."

Song Weiyu rolled his eyes at her, and just as he was about to speak, the butler's bell rang at the door.

"Hello, this is red wine given to two ladies by the gentleman in the suite next door. He said that you must accept it."

Song Weiyu frowned and asked Li Nian: "Who is it? Do you know him?"

"You can't accept it if you don't know me?"

Then he said to the butler: "Help me open the sober glass, thank you."

Song Weiyu looked at the wine bottle and pursed his lips carelessly: "This man is pretty good at giving. It's my favorite wine."

"Drink less. You have such a bad drinking capacity. I can't control your madness without them."

……

The cheongsam was delivered, and Song Weiyu fastened the cheongsam in front of the mirror. In the mirror, she was full of the mysterious and elegant charm of an oriental woman. She sprayed perfume, lit up her red lips, and carefully put on a green jade bracelet.

Li Nian clicked his tongue and said, "These breasts, this ass, this waist, tsk, tsk, someone is going to go crazy tonight..."

"What? Who's crazy?"

Li Nian shrugged and smiled secretly, opened the door and went out: "Come on, Fairy Song, let's go drink..."

The place where the masked reception was held was a private art gallery behind the Louvre, and Li Nian was one of the investors.

A large number of reporters and luxury cars had gathered at the door, and blue velvet blankets were spread from the inside out to the driveway.

"Huh? Such a big game tonight? I thought it was just a small reception..." The concierge at the door opened the door for Song Weiyu, bent down and stretched out his hand to guide her.

Li Nian followed up and said: "A painting is on display here tonight, and many celebrities are here. However, we are not going to play in the snow. The two of us are only here to drink tonight and pick up men."

The two raised their eyebrows and smiled, put on their masks, twisted their waists and walked inside.

Yishui's dress and Song Weiyu's elegant cheongsam quickly captured the attention of the men present.

The freehand ink-colored magnolia flower is outlined in a few strokes on the moon-white lotus root silk cheongsam. As Song Weiyu's undulating figure sways, it seems to be hanging on the branches and coming to life.

Men kept coming up to chat, but Song Weiyu was not satisfied with this or that.

It's not that the lips are too thin, or that the figure is too slim...

"Song Weiyu is enough to hold it in his mouth."

"I can't help it. I'm used to eating Man-Han banquets, and I really can't swallow these French snails."

Li Nian had a wicked smile on his face and stared at a tall, slender man with broad shoulders and narrow waist not far away. The man was twirling a champagne glass and chatting and laughing with others.

Deliberately amplifying the tone: "Song Weiyu, the Manchu-Han banquet you are talking about is made by Chen or Fu? How delicious it is, tell me."

French is everywhere, and these few sentences in Mandarin are quite clear.

The man obviously paused, and the hand twirling the wine glass became a little stiffer, as if he was paying full attention to their whispers.