"If you donate a kidney to Wanwan, I'll have a kid with you."
The husband she had married to for two years who never touched her, was suddenly willing to have a child with her. However, he insisted that she must donate a kidney to the woman he was having an affair with?
A man like this—was there any point in not divorcing and leaving him to directly meet the maker?
Yun Qingqing decisively divorced, and everyone was eagerly waiting to see her downfall.
Ex-husband: "Within three days, she'll definitely come back begging me to reconcile."
Stepsister: "A grass widow like her, even a beggar might not fancy. It's absolutely impossible for her to marry into an elite family again."
Walking hand in hand with the Seventh Master Sheng, who was her ex-husband's arch-nemesis, as well as the man her stepsister most desired to marry among the Nan City's elite heirs, Yun Qingqing smiled and handed them the wedding invitation.
This second marriage not only outshone the first, but Yun Qingqing also stepped onto the stage that the entire world was watching, holding a concert attended by tens of thousands of people, becoming the brightest star in the music industry.
Watching his ex-wife radiate with brilliance, Lu Yanchen regretted his past actions and entered full "simp" mode.
The Seventh Master Sheng, who had absolutely nothing to fear, pressed Yun Qingqing against his chest. Lightly caressing her slender waist, his voice so tender it was unlike himself.
"Baby, can you kiss me again?"
"Baby, I can't sleep without holding you."
"Baby, as long as you don't divorce, I'd even give my life to you..."

My Ex-Husband's Arch-Enemy in Love with Me

Yun Qingqing's petite face blushed like the rosy dawn, and her small hand felt pleasantly warm. Afraid that Sheng Ting might demand a too-intimate place for her to kiss, she decided to take the initiative.


Her delicate fingers gracefully hooked around the man's neck, and her crimson lips brushed against his ear as she asked in a sultry, soft voice, "Should I kiss your neck?"


Though only a minute had passed, Yun Qingqing felt as if it had been an entire century, so excruciatingly long was the silence. Sheng Ting did not respond to her words, not uttering a single word. So, she took his silence as consent.


Blinking her eyes, her enchanting lips confidently and nimbly landed on the man's fair neck. They lifted and descended again—not more, not less than four goodnight kisses.


The Pinnacle of Intimacy