She'S No Angel

The true daughter of the Gu family, Minshea Gu, is reborn and returns with a vow to take revenge on the fake heiress Yvonne Gu, who stole her place. Using the "innocent" act against her rival, she maneuvers step by step, stripping away Yvonne’s white-lotus façade and turning her own situation around. She deliberately draws close to Charles Fu, the powerful head of the Fu family—sometimes playing pitiful and obedient, sometimes revealing her sharp edge—gradually pulling the cold, domineering CEO into her orbit. Stunning everyone at the Fu family's birthday banquet, she reclaims her broken engagement and orchestrates Gu Group's downfall, forcing them to reap what they sowed. Soon, like a pearl brushed clean, she will shine anew.

She'S No Angel

The true daughter of the Gu family, Minshea Gu, is reborn and returns with a vow to take revenge on the fake heiress Yvonne Gu, who stole her place. Using the "innocent" act against her rival, she maneuvers step by step, stripping away Yvonne’s white-lotus façade and turning her own situation around. She deliberately draws close to Charles Fu, the powerful head of the Fu family—sometimes playing pitiful and obedient, sometimes revealing her sharp edge—gradually pulling the cold, domineering CEO into her orbit. Stunning everyone at the Fu family's birthday banquet, she reclaims her broken engagement and orchestrates Gu Group's downfall, forcing them to reap what they sowed. Soon, like a pearl brushed clean, she will shine anew.

The gala lights shimmer like shattered glass above me, reflecting off the champagne flute trembling in my hand. Ten years gone. One heartbeat stolen. And here she stands—Yvonne—smiling beside Father like she didn’t steal my life, my name, my grave.

I force my breath steady. Smile soft. Eyes down. The perfect picture of humility. 'Uncle,' I whisper, voice breaking just enough, 'I’ve come home.'

Gasps ripple through the crowd. Charles Fu watches from across the room, sharp eyes dissecting me. Dangerous. Controlled. A man who breaks things without flinching.

Yvonne reaches out, tears glistening. 'Oh, Minshea… we thought you were dead.'

I take her hand. Squeeze gently. 'And I thought you were family.'

The music stops. All eyes lock on us. My pulse roars. This is only the beginning.

Now—do I collapse into tears and play victim, turn and walk straight into Charles’ path to claim protection, or drop my glass and let the crash signal war?