Wen Zaiyi gazed at Sheng Youxia's face. He wasn't meant to be an actor; even hearing those words made him want to laugh.
Fu Shilv, such a proud man, must have been furious to hear this.
But it was he who was actually enraged.
Wen Zaiyi, contemplating stoking the fire, said, "Your marriage has long been meaningless if he truly doesn't want to divorce, let him hang, and you can both do your own thing."
Sheng Youxia hung her head, her voice carrying the shattered fragments of her being.
"I still want a divorce."
Even at the cost of her purity and reputation, staking it all, she didn't want the words Mrs. Fu weighing upon her anymore.
Fu Shilv didn't come in, nor did the scene Sheng Youxia had anticipated unfold.
Initially, she even nodded to Wen Zaiyi, knowing that a trip to the hospital, should she become injured, was inevitable.
Now that most had been said, the two of them looked at each other. Sheng Youxia's phone suddenly rang.
It was a WeChat message from Fu Shilv.