Abandoned by my fiancé on our wedding day, I swore I’d marry a beggar out of spite — but to everyone’s surprise at the ceremony…

At the city’s most luxurious banquet hall, crystal chandeliers sparkled over costly evening gowns. The place was spectacular and grand, the kind of space that leaves anyone who enters dazzled by the glamour of the elite. Today was the engagement ceremony of Khánh An — a strong, beautiful young woman from a humble background — and Hải Đăng, the heir of the Đặng family conglomerate.

This match had been thought well-suited: though not wealthy, Khánh An was talented, independent, employed and not dependent on anyone. The engagement reception had come to the moment of ceremony. Hải Đăng stood on stage, hand on the microphone, ready to announce the engagement before hundreds of guests — but his voice rang out cold and emotionless.

“Sorry to everyone present today, but I have an important announcement.” The hall fell silent. Khánh An looked at her fiancé in surprise, but there was no warmth in his eyes — only contempt. “This wedding will not take place.” Those words hit like a thunderclap, a wave of shock rippling through the crowd. All eyes turned to Khánh An.

“Hải Đăng, what are you saying?” Khánh An’s voice trembled, but she tried to keep her composure. Hải Đăng smirked as if he had waited for this moment for a long time. He looked at her with disdain and delivered the cruel line: “Do you really think someone like you is worthy of being my wife? You’re poor, without a proper family background, and you have no value I’d want to be tied to for life.”

The auditorium erupted; gossip and cruel whispers began to spread. Some scoffed, others pitied. Khánh An felt numb. She couldn’t believe the man she had loved and trusted could publicly humiliate her like this. But why did he propose to her in the first place? He had promised to build a future with her.

Hải Đăng laughed, his tone bitter. “That was before I met someone more suitable.” Then he reached for another woman and pulled her up onto the stage — Minh Thư, the daughter of a wealthy tycoon, a beautiful, haughty young lady in an extravagant designer gown. Minh Thư stepped up, wrapped her arms around Hải Đăng, her expression triumphant.

“Sorry, but he and I are the truly suitable match.” The scoffs echoed throughout the hall. The rich guests clicked their tongues approvingly. After all, a match like that was bound to be called off — who could fault a man for choosing a similarly wealthy bride?

Standing amid a sea of staring faces, Khánh An felt betrayed by the whole world. Her throat burned but her pride would not let her cry. Her future in-laws? Khánh An turned, looking for comfort from her family, but her mother’s eyes were full of disappointment.

“I told you not to aim too high,” her mother said. “I told you to be obedient and listen — now look, you’ve lost face.” Each sentence landed like a knife in Khánh An’s heart. The people she loved most had turned their backs on her: humiliated before hundreds, betrayed by the man she loved, abandoned even by her own family.

She had nothing left — yet she refused to break. She lifted her chin, tears stinging her eyes. No, she would not cry in front of these people. A daring thought sparked inside her. If the world despised her because she lacked a rich man at her side, she would prove she needed no one. She drew a deep breath and strode up onto the stage, snatching the microphone from Hải Đăng’s hand.

“Thank you for showing me your true face,” she said. “A person who values only money and fame is not worth my sorrow.” She paused and looked directly into Hải Đăng’s eyes. “I don’t need you to have happiness.” With that, she threw the engagement ring down hard at his feet.

“And you just wait—I will prove to the whole world that a woman doesn’t need wealth, doesn’t need to rely on a man, and can still be happy and hold her head high.” She turned her back and strode powerfully out of the hall. Mocking laughter echoed behind her, but she no longer cared.

She was about to do something no one would ever expect. Stepping out of the restaurant, her eyes blurred with tears, but her heart blazed with fire. Right at that moment, a thin, ragged figure appeared before her. A beggar sat beneath the streetlight, dressed in tattered clothes, hair messy, looking like someone no one would even notice.

But his eyes were different—there was no subservience of the poor, no pity for her, only calm, as though nothing in this world could shake him. Khánh An looked at him and gave a bitter smile, a crazy idea flashing through her mind. If the world wanted to mock her for not having a man by her side, then she would give them a real shock.

She walked up to the man, bent down, and asked in an oddly calm voice, “Do you want to marry me?” The man looked up, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. She continued, “If you agree, you’ll have a wife this very moment.” A cold wind swept by, carrying suffocating silence. Then the man gently nodded.

After Khánh An’s unexpected question, the beggar stared at her for a long while. The night wind stirred his messy hair. People nearby, including some guests leaving the broken engagement party, stopped and stared in astonishment at the bizarre sight.

He really nodded. Just a single wordless gesture, yet it left everyone stunned. A beautiful, strong woman whose engagement had just been canceled was now proposing to a beggar. What kind of crazy joke was this? But Khánh An no longer cared about anyone’s eyes. She looked straight at him, her voice firm: “Do you have any ID?” The man silently pulled out an old, worn ID card.

The name on it made her frown slightly. Vương Nam Phong. She took a deep breath. “Then let’s go. We’ll get married tonight.”

And so, just hours after being humiliated at a lavish engagement party, Khánh An officially became the wife of a man with no money, no home, no future.

A wedding without guests, without a beautiful gown, without blessings. Just two strangers standing at the marriage registry office, signing their names on a paper, officially becoming husband and wife. When she stepped out of the office, a strange feeling surged inside Khánh An. She didn’t know if it was madness or rebellion against the world. She only knew there was no turning back.

The next morning, news of the bizarre marriage spread everywhere. The almost-daughter-in-law of the Đặng corporation had married a beggar on the very night her engagement was broken. The press and social media exploded. Photos of Khánh An and Nam Phong in front of the marriage office spread like wildfire.

People mocked her, saying she was bitter and reckless. Malicious tongues claimed she had lost her mind, humiliated beyond repair. Her family could not bear the shock. Her mother called immediately, voice seething with anger:

“You’ve disgraced the entire family, Khánh An! Being dumped was shameful enough, but now you married a beggar? Do you know what people are saying about you?”

Her mother’s sharp words cut into her like knives. But Khánh An tried to stay calm. “I don’t care what they say, Mother.”

“Fine! If you want to live like that, then never show your face here again.”

The call ended with a chilling click. Her heart ached. Though she had expected her mother’s reaction, the cruel words still left her trembling.

Now she had truly lost everything. No home, no money, no one to help. Khánh An and Nam Phong rented a shabby room in the outskirts, the cheapest she could find. She had to quit her job, as the company didn’t want to be associated with her scandal. Nam Phong didn’t look for work either; he did nothing all day but read old books or stare blankly out the window.

She bitterly wondered who she had married. She had imagined a poor but hardworking man, willing to struggle with her through hardship. Instead, Nam Phong did nothing but eat the meals she brought home. Many nights, she looked at him in anger until tears came.

“Do you have any plans? Are you going to live like this forever?”

Nam Phong looked at her, calm but deep.
“Do you regret it?”

“Regret? … I—” Her voice caught, and she gave a bitter laugh. “There’s no way back anymore.”

He fell silent.

One day, returning from the market, Khánh An found Nam Phong reading a thick old book. Nothing unusual—except it was a dense economics book in English. She froze.
“You can read that?”

Nam Phong looked up and smiled faintly. “It’s a good book.”

Her eyes widened. A beggar reading economics, in English? She brushed the thought aside; her biggest problem now was money. Then came shocking news. She was pregnant. The doctor told her the baby was already several weeks old.

She trembled as she looked at the ultrasound paper, her heart racing. “I’m… going to be a mother?” A flood of emotions overwhelmed her—fear, joy, disbelief. Her eyes reddened as she gripped the paper, but then another fear struck. How could she tell Nam Phong? He had no job, no future—would he even accept this child? She wasn’t ready for his answer, so she decided to keep it a secret.

Khánh An thought her life had hit rock bottom, but things grew worse. With no higher education, no connections, and the scandal of her bizarre marriage, she could only work at a small eatery as a waitress. Those days were a struggle—pregnant, doing manual labor, enduring the scorn of coworkers and customers.

“You’re a wealthy heiress, aren’t you? How could you end up working as a waitress? Where’s your husband? Why don’t I see him working to support you?”

Those words cut into her heart like knives, but she gritted her teeth and endured them. Every day, when she returned home, her body was so exhausted she only wanted to collapse on the bed. Yet never once did she see Nam Phong take the initiative to help. He only sat there, reading books, sipping tea, as though detached from the entire world.

She truly couldn’t understand him.
“Can’t you at least go find a job? Don’t you see I’m the one carrying everything on my shoulders?”

One night, losing patience, she raised her voice in frustration. Nam Phong silently looked at her, his eyes calm to the point of irritation.
“Do you not trust me?”

The question stunned her. Trust? How could she trust a man who did nothing all day but sit and read in silence?
“No.”

The harsh answer slipped out. “I can’t trust you.” She turned her face away, refusing to look at him anymore. But she didn’t see the flicker of loneliness and complexity that flashed in Nam Phong’s eyes.

Her belly grew with each passing day, and her body weakened. One afternoon, while carrying a tray of food, she suddenly felt dizzy, her vision darkening as her body swayed forward.

Hot soup spilled all over a guest.
“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?!” A piercing shout rang out, followed by angry stares from everyone around.

The guest was a wealthy businessman. His expensive suit was drenched, his skin flushed red from a mild burn. Terrified, Khánh An trembled, bowing her head in apology. But the man refused to hear it.

“You think an apology is enough? I’ll sue you—let’s see how a lowly servant like you can pay for this!”

The restaurant owner wasted no time in firing her on the spot.

She lost her job. Returning home with a blank, lifeless gaze, she found Nam Phong still sitting in his usual chair, reading. All the anger she had bottled up erupted.

“I can’t take this anymore! Do you have any idea what I’ve been through? I’m carrying your child, yet I’m slaving away, humiliated, and now I’ve lost my job. And you? You just sit there all day, useless, living off me like a parasite!”

Hot tears streamed down her cheeks.
“Nam Phong… I really regret this. I regret marrying you. I regret stubbornly fighting against the whole world.”

She turned away, storming into the bedroom and slamming the door shut. Outside, Nam Phong sat still, but his hands had clenched tightly into fists.

The next day, something unusual happened. For the first time, Nam Phong left the house and disappeared for an entire day. She had no idea where he went or what he did. But when night fell, he returned, carrying a small bag.

“What’s this?” she frowned.

He opened the bag. Inside was a thick stack of cash.

She froze. “Where… where did you get this money?”

Nam Phong didn’t answer. A chill ran down her spine.

“Where did this money come from? How could someone with no job, no connections, suddenly bring home so much?”

A terrifying thought struck her. Did he borrow from loan sharks?

He chuckled.
“You think I’m that stupid?”

“Then explain.”

Nam Phong looked straight into her eyes, sharper than ever.
“Khánh An, it’s time you knew the truth.”

She held her breath as he pulled something out and laid it on the table—a pitch-black bank card.

Her knees weakened. “Th-this… this is a black card.”

His voice was calm, but his eyes burned with intensity.
“I’m not the useless man you think I am. I have money—a lot of money.”

Her heart pounded wildly. “No… impossible.”

But Nam Phong’s voice thundered in the still night, each word striking like lightning.
“I am the hidden CEO of Phong Vũ Corporation.”

Her eyes widened.

Phong Vũ—the financial conglomerate, one of the most powerful in the country. And her husband—the man she had thought was nothing but a worthless beggar—was its secret chairman.

She could barely breathe.
“Why? Why would you do this?”

Nam Phong smiled faintly, but there was something unfathomable in his gaze.
“Because I wanted to know if you could love me even when I had nothing.”

She froze.

So all the pain she had endured was just… a test?

Rage surged through her chest.
“Why? Why would you do that?” Her voice trembled with both hurt and fury, eyes bloodshot as she glared at him.

She had believed they were equals—two broken people leaning on each other against the world. She had endured humiliation, exhaustion, and scorn, thinking they were struggling side by side.

But now he stood before her, confessing he had everything all along. That he was a powerful CEO, and her suffering was nothing more than his way of testing her.

“Do you have any idea how much I suffered? Do you know how foolish I felt marrying you? I don’t regret choosing you, but I regret trusting someone who deceived me.”

Nam Phong clenched his fists.
“I never deceived you.”

“Never deceived me? Then why did you pretend to be poor all this time?”

He fell silent.

Khánh An let out a bitter laugh as tears streamed down her face.
“You could’ve told me from the start. I didn’t care if you were rich or poor—I just needed someone honest. But instead, you let me endure every hardship alone, humiliated, working myself to death while pregnant with your child. You call that a test? No, that’s cruelty.”

Her voice broke. Nam Phong stepped closer, but she pulled away.

“Don’t touch me.”

Her heart was shattered. She didn’t need a CEO. She needed someone who truly loved her—not someone who stood by watching her struggle just to see if she was ‘worthy.’

That night, she couldn’t sleep. Staring at the ceiling, she thought about everything. Yes, Nam Phong had moments of gentleness, moments that made her feel safe. But could those fleeting moments make up for all the pain he had caused?

She realized she no longer trusted him.

The next morning, she packed her things.

Nam Phong walked in and saw the suitcase beside her. His eyes darkened.
“What are you doing?”

“I’m leaving,” she said firmly.

He froze.
“You’re so angry you’d leave me?”

She looked at him, her gaze calm but filled with sorrow.
“You can be rich, powerful, admired by thousands. But to me, you’re no longer the man I once trusted.”

Nam Phong’s fists tightened. He had never thought she would truly leave.
“You’re carrying our child,” he said hoarsely.

“Yes. But I can’t live with someone I can’t trust anymore.”

Dragging her suitcase toward the door, her heart felt as though it was splitting apart, yet her steps didn’t falter. She couldn’t stay with a man who had let her suffer just for a test. She didn’t need a CEO. She just needed a husband who was genuine with her.

And Nam Phong was not that man.

The door slammed shut. She was gone.

He had lost her.

The days that followed, Nam Phong was like a ghost. He didn’t go to the company, didn’t do anything—he just sat in the empty house, staring at the wedding ring she left behind.

He realized he hadn’t lost her because he was poor, nor because he was rich. He lost her because he broke her heart.

He thought testing her would prove her love. But he failed to see that love was never meant to be a test.

He was wrong.

One day, the hospital called.

Khánh An had been rushed in for emergency care.

He dashed to the hospital like a madman. When he arrived, she lay there pale and fragile. The doctor explained she had collapsed from extreme exhaustion and stress.

Nam Phong’s heart clenched painfully. He had pushed her to this point—it was his fault.

That night, he sat by her bedside without moving. For the first time, fear consumed him—the fear of losing her forever.

When she finally opened her eyes, he clutched her hand tightly, whispering,
“I was wrong. I was truly wrong. I never needed to test you. I never needed proof. All I needed… was you.”

Tears rolled down his face. For the first time in his life, he cried. And for the first time, he was truly afraid of losing the woman he loved most.

The hospital room was silent, save for the steady beep of the heart monitor. Nam Phong sat there, gripping her frail hand as if he’d never let go again.

That hand was once where he found warmth, but now it felt frighteningly fragile. He had been wrong. He had pushed her into despair.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know I hurt you this much. I thought if you could endure everything, it would prove your love for me was real.”

But he was wrong—love was not a test. Tears fell from Nam Phong’s eyes onto the back of her hand.

Khánh An stirred faintly. Her eyelids weakly opened, and she saw his haggard, worn-out face. She had thought that when she woke up, she would never want to see him again. But when she saw how frail and broken he looked, her heart ached.

“Have you… been crying?” her voice trembled.

Nam Phong froze. He didn’t know how to answer—he only knew that in the moment he almost lost her, he had truly been terrified.

“You may be a CEO, a powerful man, someone standing at the very top—but if you cannot cherish love, then you have nothing.” Her voice was weak, yet filled with emotion.

Nam Phong gripped her hand tighter. “I know. And I don’t want to lose you.”

She stayed silent, watching him. He could regret, he could cry—but could he really change?

In the days that followed, Nam Phong never left her side. He personally took care of her—preparing meals, massaging her hands and feet, telling her stories. He was no longer the cold CEO, but simply a man who loved her.

Khánh An gradually recovered, but the wounds in her heart had not yet healed. One day, when she could walk on her own again, she said softly, “Nam Phong, I need time.”

He froze. She looked into his eyes, her voice calm yet firm.

“I know you love me, and I know you’re trying to make amends. But I still can’t forget what happened. I need time—to think, to find myself again. I don’t want to continue in a marriage where I’m uncertain, just because of the child.”

His heart shattered, but this time, he didn’t try to stop her. “I understand. I’ll wait for you.”

A year passed. Khánh An gave birth to a healthy baby boy, whom she named Nam Khang. She lived a simple but happy life—without the title of a CEO’s wife, free from the pressures of a powerful family. She thought Nam Phong would return to his old life, but he didn’t.

He didn’t force her back, nor use his power to fight for custody. Instead, he quietly appeared in her life only as a true father—visiting often, caring for and playing with his son sincerely, without pretense. Slowly, Khánh An realized he was no longer the selfish man from before. He no longer tested her love—he simply loved her.

One late afternoon, under the setting sun, Nam Phong held Nam Khang in his arms and looked toward Khánh An. “Today marks one year since you left me.”

She silently nodded. Nam Phong put their son down and dropped to one knee in front of her.

“I am not perfect. I’ve made mistakes. I’ve hurt you. But I’ve changed—not to win you back, but because I want to become a man worthy of your love.” His voice was hoarse.

“I won’t ask you to forgive me right away. I only ask… for one chance to love you properly this time.”

She was stunned. This time, there were no cruel trials, no heartless tests—just a man standing before her with sincerity.

“Can you try trusting me once more?”

Khánh An looked at him for a long time. She remembered everything: the pain, the hurt—but also his patience, his change, and his devotion. She leaned down, gently placing her hand on his.

“Yes.”

Nam Phong’s eyes widened, shining like stars in the night sky.

“But this time,” she smiled through tears, “you must propose properly.”

Nam Phong laughed softly, pulling out a new ring—simple yet meaningful. “Will you marry me?”

She nodded. And this time, she was truly happy.

Their story wasn’t a fairytale. They had suffered, they had hurt, they had lost each other. But in the end, they learned that love was not a test. It didn’t need to be proven through cruel challenges. It only needed sincerity, patience, and forgiveness.

And sometimes, to truly keep someone, we must learn to change ourselves. Happiness doesn’t come from perfection, but from cherishing each other even in the hardest of times.

And so, the story of Khánh An and Nam Phong closed with a heartfelt ending: Love is not a test—and to hold onto the one you love, you must learn to cherish, to change, and to forgive.