Serving tea for the Zhou family for three years, the entire city regarded her as a good-for-nothing wealthy wife. At the birthday banquet, her mother-in-law slammed the divorce agreement onto the end of the table and demanded she leave with nothing. Sign! When she put pen to paper, she only added one sentence: upon the dissolution of the marriage, the three-year loan is due immediately, principal and interest included, pay it back. The Zhou family laughed at her, thinking her crazy—little did they know, President Shen, the behind-the-scenes financial backer holding the three-hundred-million-yuan life-and-death line of Zhou's Building Materials, was none other than that country girl who poured tea for them every day, filled to seven tenths, with the cup handle facing right. The countdown for the ninety-working-day silence period begins. Sitting behind the one-way glass, she watches the person her husband's family begs on their knees to see—the person they will never see—tightening the noose inch by inch.