Mr Carlos Huo, She's Your Wife

Blair had heard about Wesley long before they met. Everyone thought he was a hero. In Blair's eyes, he was a superhero.

Blair was luckier than Wesley's other fans because her uncle was his superior. A few loving words were all it took, and her uncle told her anything she wanted to know about the man she had a crush on.

Even so, Blair had never asked her uncle to introduce her. She believed in fate, and somehow, she firmly believed that they would eventually be together.

Shock of shocks, she was right. She met him not long after.

But their first meeting was not a fun one.

That year, Blair was nineteen years old and Wesley was twenty-three.

Blair was a college student, and her college was in the same city as her home. But she seldom came home. Whenever she did, she always saw her parents fighting.

But sometimes, she had to come home. Just like today.

It was the holidays. Her roommates all went home. Blair stood in front of the villa with a small suitcase. It was a beautiful villa, but hardly warm.

She typed in the code at the entrance. "Beep!" The door to the villa opened.

"Look at you! I'm sick of you! Why did you come back? Get out of here!" a woman shrieked—she was Blair's mom, Grace Ji. Blair sighed helplessly as she realized that her mom was yelling at her dad again.

Judging from her name, you could tell that Grace Ji's parents wanted her to be a graceful woman.

And she worked to live up to that name. Even now, she was soft and elegant in public. Everyone believed that her name reflected her inner beauty.

But she was a totally different woman in front of Jacob Jing, Blair's father.

Blair knew why—it was because of life.

Life had ground her kind-hearted and gentle mom down. She became bitter and angry.

and entered the living room. Before she could greet her parents, she

of Chemistry, but his degree hadn't made him

any longer, and couldn't see any other way

or how he'd done it. Her dad might have been

the police told her that this was suicide. Her father brought

explosion, Blair flew backwards, hitting the living room wall. She was knocked senseless.

parents' faces were contorted in pain, their mouths open. But Blair couldn't

her of

her parents, but the blazing fire ripped through the whole villa. She tried, and was forced back by

something, '

to call the fire department, but she couldn't find her phone. Probably it didn't matter

She could do nothing

she could hear nothing, she still called out

barreling through the fire and wreckage. It was

floor,

him mouth to

run for her life. This was everything she ever knew, and

fire alarm in the villa kept ringing. It was, after all, a high-class

struggled to stand and stagger towards her

swallowed by the fire. As she moved, she felt a sharp pain. Her hand flew to the wound instinctively. She felt something sharp and withdrew her hand, her head turning to look. A sharp piece of

moment, she realized that if she didn't leave the villa

live if her

help anyone who might be trapped in there. Blair wanted to go to the kitchen to help put out the fire, but the temperature was too high. She felt like she had been walking forever, but she'd

and her clothes were

the fire. She didn't know what to

were approaching, sirens announcing their presence

waded through the blaze and saw Blair standing