The operating table was even colder than An Chuchu had imagined.

Lying on the icy surface in her oversized hospital gown, her vision was obscured by a green drape, while the sterile stench of disinfectant filled her nostrils.

Following the doctor’s instructions, she spread her legs. Before administering the local anesthetic, the surgeon followed protocol to confirm one last time:

"Miss An, you have one final chance to change your mind. In ten minutes, the forceps will remove nothing but medical waste."

The doctor flipped through her notes.

"Also—"

"Your uterine walls are thicker than average. While miscarriage doesn’t necessarily affect future fertility, there’s a risk of organ damage that could leave you permanently infertile. Are you certain you want to proceed?"

Permanently infertile...

An Chuchu stared blankly at her reflection on the ceiling, unflinching. "Go ahead."

Hopefully, bad luck wouldn’t strike twice.

"It’s not that we doctors like to lecture," the surgeon continued, "but these days, so many women pray desperately for children. Young girls like you don’t appreciate your health—cases of regret are all too common. If we can dissuade even one..."

Private hospitals weren’t required to keep detailed records. Most patients here were young women seeking abortions. The surgeons saw things ordinary people never would. The clinic needed profits, but even they feared retribution for too many immoral acts.

Most girls wouldn’t listen—but An Chuchu was different.

The anesthesia needle descended.

"Wait!"

An Chuchu bolted upright from the table, fumbling for her vibrating phone in her pocket. "I need to take this."

Private hospitals had looser policies than public ones. As a designer, her job demanded constant client communication. The abortion could wait—but this call couldn’t.

"Got it. I’ll be right back."

One minute later, she hung up.

"You’re right, Doctor. I can’t gamble with my entire life. If I can’t have children... my life would be incomplete. Thank you!"

Whether the call had come or not, she’d already decided—this child, however unplanned, was fate’s gift. To reject it now felt like inviting karma.

"Chuchu, I’ve cleared your leave, but who knew the Beijing CEO would drop in for inspection today? This guy’s a wildcard—completely unpredictable—but absolutely untouchable. Our annual performance hinges on his mood. Can you make it back? If not—"

"No problem. Be there in ten!"

Caught in traffic, An Chuchu parked and sprinted upstairs, only to find the meeting already underway.

Her best friend and colleague, Zhao Xiaoyi, stood in the hallway clutching a file, anxiously scanning the room. Spotting An Chuchu, she bolted over.

"Project specs, product brief, key translation points—all prepped. This guy’s intense. You’ll need to wow him." Zhao Xiaoyi shoved the folder into her hands. "Thanks, babe. Seafood dinner after this."

"With your post-abortion condition? I’ll be grateful if you don’t hemorrhage. Honestly, you built the Taoyuan Project from scratch—I’d take your place if I could." Zhao Xiaoyi’s gaze dropped to her stomach, sighing in distress.

"I didn’t go through with it."

"What?!"

An Chuchu flashed a smile, expertly clipped on her ID badge, smoothed her hair, and let the dark strands cascade in a perfect arc. She pushed open the door and slipped into the conference room, leaving Zhao Xiaoyi stunned.

Onstage, Acting Manager Huang—who’d been filling in—was fumbling through the Taoyuan presentation, his explanations riddled with gaps.

Facing the formidable CEO seated at the head of the table, his once-handsome face had drained of all color, sweat pouring down his back as his trousers darkened ominously.

"Sorry to keep everyone waiting."

Just as the man was about to walk out, a striking figure suddenly captured his attention. woman with glossy black hair... an exquisite, intelligent face... confidence radiating as she stepped into view...

That familiar visage made the man’s thoughts stutter to a halt.