After becoming rich overnight, I handed over the system.

Chapter 481 You're Clearly the Most Sensible

Details that had been overlooked in the past now rushed into my mind, laced with sharp irony.

A phone that's always on silent mode.

A schedule that inevitably involves "business trips" or "meetings" on certain specific dates.

The occasional whiff of fragrance on him, similar to yet subtly different from her usual perfume.

And there was the custom-made, "one-of-a-kind" perfume he gave her, and the "one-of-a-kind" star necklace...

She used to think that was favoritism, that it was exclusive affection.

Looking back now, could the top, middle, and base notes of the perfume, the style and length of the necklace, and even the whispered words he uttered in her ear when he was moved—"baby," "star," "I only have you"—all of these be mass-produced and distributed to different people?

A terrible thought took root and grew wildly.

With trembling hands, she picked up her phone, opened the browser, and typed in Gu Huai's name.

She began frantically searching for all publicly available information related to him: business event reports, photos at charity galas, interviews with financial magazines, and even blurry check-in photos on social media...

She used every possible means, like the most obsessive detective, meticulously searching for any possible clues.

Her eyes were bloodshot from staying up late and crying, but she was completely unaware of it.

For several days and nights without sleep.

On the computer screen, photos are being added one by one into the open folder.

A candid photo from a high-end cocktail party shows him standing next to a stunning female lawyer. The two are raising their glasses intimately, and the star necklace on her earlobe flashes briefly.

A photo accompanying a report on an art exhibition shows him standing side by side with a gentle curator, who slightly tilts her head, a familiar silver light disappearing into her collar.

A photo taken at an equestrian club event shows him smiling as he leads a horse for a pretty young girl. The girl's raised wrist is permeated with the base notes of the "Only" perfume, cool yet lingering.

Seven.

Seven women of different identities and temperaments.

Some are dignified, some are charming, some are intellectual, and some are innocent.

They wore matching star necklaces and sprayed the same custom-made perfume, sharing the same man's "deep affection" and "uniqueness" at different times and in different places.

She even saw a handwritten love card posted by one of the girls on a private blog, with words that she could never forget: "You are my eternal star."

On her birthday, he also whispered the same words in her ear using the same handwriting.

That day, she was so moved that she cried all night.

“Heh…” Yin Mingyue looked at the neatly arranged evidence on the screen, which resembled a product catalog, and suddenly chuckled softly.

Laughter echoed in the empty, silent room, sounding worse than crying.

What she thought was an epic love story was nothing more than his large-scale, multi-faceted fishing ground; the romantic surprise she cherished as her life was just a cheap freebie mass-produced on his assembly line.

The most ridiculous thing is that she was once completely infatuated with him.

A wave of immense anger and nausea washed over her, extinguishing the last vestiges of pain and longing.

She was frighteningly calm, organizing, backing up, and printing out all the photos, screenshots, and timeline comparisons.

The thick stack of documents felt heavy in her hands, a testament to the weight of two years of sincere effort she had poured into it.

She went directly to Gu Huai's company.

This time, without an appointment and ignoring the receptionist's surprised attempts to stop her, she pushed open the heavy door to his office.

Gu Huai was standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling window making a phone call, his tone so gentle it could melt your heart: "...Sweetie, don't overthink it. I was really busy with the project those few days, and all I could think about was you...Yes, I love you too, baby."

Hearing the door being broken down, he turned around unhappily. When he saw it was her, a hint of surprise flashed in his eyes. He then quickly said a few words of reassurance to the person on the other end of the phone and hung up.

His face quickly broke into the usual mix of reproach and doting affection: "Mingyue? Why did you suddenly come? You didn't even tell me beforehand. The receptionist was being rude and didn't stop you, did she? Perfect, I'm free tonight, I'll take you..."

He paused, his words trailing off.

Because he saw Yin Mingyue walk over step by step, her face expressionless, without the crying, questioning, or sadness he had expected, only a stagnant calm.

Then, she slammed the thick stack of documents in her hand onto his large, expensive mahogany desk.

Paper flew everywhere, scattered all over the place.

Those clear group photos, those magnified close-ups of jewelry, those comparison charts of perfume ingredients, those excerpts of sweet words... like a silent yet deafening exhibition, laid bare before him.

Gu Huai's gaze swept over those things, and the gentle mask on his face finally cracked, crumbling and peeling away little by little to reveal the true astonishment and gloom beneath.

The office was deathly silent.

After a long while, he raised his eyes and looked at the woman in front of him, whose body was tense but whose eyes were as cold as ice.

He rubbed his temples, his tone revealing no remorse or panic, only an almost self-righteous impatience and reproach for being disturbed.

他 说:

"Mingyue, stop fooling around."

"You are clearly the most sensible one."

The office was deathly silent, save for the faint rustling of scattered papers.

Gu Huai slowly lifted his gaze from the unsavory evidence and placed it on Yin Mingyue's face. There was no panic, no guilt, not even a trace of embarrassment at being exposed in her eyes.

There was only a deep, disturbed impatience, and an almost absurd reproach.

He rubbed his temples, as if she were the one who was being unreasonable and causing him a huge problem.

"Mingyue, stop fooling around." His voice was low, even a little hoarse with fatigue, as if everything she had done was just childish nonsense that wasted his precious time.

Then, looking at her, he spoke with a certainty that she had once found incredibly affectionate but now found nauseating, words that burned away the last shred of her reason:

"You are clearly the most sensible one."

"Sensible?" Yin Mingyue's voice seemed to be squeezed out from a crack in the ice, dry, cold, and trembling violently, yet unusually clear. "Gu Huai, tell me, what does it mean to be sensible? Is it being sensible enough to be your mistress in the shadows? Is it being sensible enough to turn a blind eye and watch you use the same necklace, the same perfume, and the same sweet words to deceive one woman after another? Or is it being sensible enough to cooperate with you in staging a 'sponsoring a poor student' act when your wife and children come knocking on your door?!"

Her voice grew louder and louder, each word like a poisoned ice pick, piercing the man fiercely.

Gu Huai's face finally darkened, and the false layer of gentleness completely peeled away, revealing the cold calculation and desire for control within.