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... is father, Uncle Dan, and his friend were using the shooting range that, unfortunately, happened to be right outside his window. His cheeks burned with embarrassment as he instinctively dropped to the floor.

’Thankful no one was there to witness me army crawling on floor like a fool in search of cover.’ He muttered under his breath, blaming his father, who had sworn to his mother that he would turn the shooting range into part of the orchard or a water-harvesting trench. Yet now, here he ...

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Sheng MuMu was transmigrated into a novel.

While others transmigrate to become celebrities, she ends up becoming a stepmother to a 17-year-old young master of a prestigious family?!

She wants to escape! But wait, what’s this? Pretending to be his wife for a monthly allowance of 500,000 in pocket money that can be freely spent on her card? Suddenly she doesn’t mind so much!

Everyone guesses: “She’s just a stepmother, how much could he really care for her? President Qi just brought a woman home to take care of his son.”

On the day of the banquet, surrounded by the media, Sheng MuMu hooks her arm around the man’s neck and sweetly calls him: “Dear~”

The man’s eyes darken as he pulls her slender waist closer, naturally dispelling the rumors.

Then people say: “She’s just a brainless trophy wife, just a pretty face.”

Sheng MuMu: “You dare call this 700-scoring top-scoring beauty from the city just a trophy wife?”

She opens a flower shop, becoming an internet sensation with people lining up to take photos, earning pots full of money; she starts a brand, appearing on the cover of financial magazines’ annual rankings.

And after that…

Tsundere stepson: “Better than a real mother.”

Vicious mother-in-law: “Daughter-in-law, when are you taking me square dancing?”

Until one night, Sheng MuMu’s earlobes blushing as she pushes away the man pinning her against the wall.

“President Qi, our agreement is just a contract marriage. ”

The man’s eyes narrow as he loosens his tie and leans down:

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Sheng MuMu: “You…mmmph”

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Until he became the lowest-ranked master, his lonely and luckless life never changed.

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[“I am the seventh generation Nanomachine.]

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The boy’s face hardened.

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The boy knelt down and asked with a trembling voice. At this, the Nanomachine attached to his cerebrum realized it had been misunderstood.