Chapter 1 — The Fateful Flight Ends

As soon as my husband learned that his "white moon light" was getting divorced, he immediately took an overnight flight abroad. The maid secretly sent me your flight code. I glanced at it and burst out laughing. What a coincidence — I was also on the same flight. 1Before the plane took off, I was playing with my phone, trying to get some sleep. The maid sent me several messages at once, this rarely happens. As soon as I opened it, I saw Ky Ngon Xuyen's flight information. I helplessly texted back: "Auntie Linh, this is someone else's private matter." I never cared about where Ky Ngon Xuyen went or what he did. It was the on-time monthly transfer of living expenses that attracted my attention. "Oh my god, miss!!! I told you, my husband is going to Paris!!" I took off my sunglasses and looked closely at the flight information. Turns out it was actually the same flight... which is a bit embarrassing. By the way, take a look at his seat number. He's the general director of a listed company, but he's also sitting in economy class? I also just learned that Bach Nguyet Quang's brother - Lam Man - is divorced. I thought he would finish his work at the company before taking action. Yet he was in such a hurry, running to her side immediately. It's like I also rushed to fly to Paris. Perhaps, this is the last chemistry between us and our husbands. After more than ten hours, the plane landed. Everyone is struggling to pack their luggage. I'm light, only carrying a small handbag. I sent most of my luggage to Paris two weeks ago, having someone arrange it in my apartment. Not wanting to run into Ky Ngon Xuyen, I chose to go the VIP route. I looked at my watch – landing much earlier than expected. So, I put my sunglasses back on and leisurely sat on the bench in the passenger area waiting for the driver to arrive. Not long after, a shuttle bus stopped, people lined up to board, each person taking turns placing their luggage. In the crowd, I saw a familiar figure. Ky Ngon Xuyen was dressed neatly in a suit, the top button of his shirt was undone, his forehead was sweaty, and his hands were struggling to pull two super-large, super-heavy suitcases. Before that, I had received a few packages sent to my house, thinking they were sending some specialties. When I opened it, I saw it was full of nutritious food, more than anything for children - food, clothes, toys, everything. He said you entered the wrong address when ordering. Now I understand — it's not the wrong address, it's that you're preparing to be someone's adoptive father.2