Everyone knows the story.
He Mingzhou, a powerful CEO, married Su Anran out of family arrangement, not love.
His heart has always belonged to his White Moonlight—Bai Yue, the woman who left for abroad and returned years later, fragile, elegant, and unforgettable.
When Bai Yue comes back just before Christmas, the marriage reaches its end.
To provoke jealousy, Mingzhou grows deliberately intimate with his wife—tender touches, possessive kisses, public affection meant for another woman’s eyes. Soon after, divorce papers are prepared, as if mercy is being granted.
No one notices that Su Anran never cries.
No one notices that she never begs.
Because no one knows the truth.
Before the marriage, before the misunderstandings, Su Anran once loved Bai Yue—and was loved in return. Their separation was never a matter of falling out of love, but of silence, pressure, and a mistake neither of them ever corrected.
What looks like cold indifference is restraint.
What looks like fragility is calculation.
When Bai Yue corners Su Anran in a quiet bathroom, suppressed jealousy finally breaks through the years of distance. From that moment on, Bai Yue makes a decision:
The marriage will end.
The man will step aside.
And what was once lost will be taken back.
Set against falling snow and Christmas lights, this is not a story about a discarded wife or a returning White Moonlight.
It is the story of two women who were never meant to be apart—
and the man who never truly belonged in between.
