009

I originally planned to stay in my studio until the day I left for President Su's company. But then, the training center called—they required me to pick up my certification in person.

Figuring I wouldn't run into Yang Xue at this hour, I hailed a cab and went over.

I wasn't sure if she had seen the divorce papers I left on the coffee table. Chances were, she hadn't even been home, too busy tangled up with Mu Chen.

Or maybe she had long since forgotten about me, assuming I was still the same pathetic fool who would never leave her.

Unfortunately, life has a way of making you meet the very people you least want to see.

After picking up my certificate, I was in a good mood. I ordered a coffee and sat by the window, watching the bustling city, trying to savor the memories before leaving for good.

Then, Mu Chen appeared.

He sat down right across from me, uninvited.

I was momentarily stunned before finally speaking.

"What a coincidence."

Mu Chen shook his head, his eyes locked onto mine, brimming with confidence and arrogance.

Before, every time I saw him, I was nothing more than his stand-in.

With just a word from him, Yang Xue would abandon me and run straight into his arms.

Back then, I had lost everything. Just his mere presence was enough to crush me.

But now, looking at his smug smile, I only saw a ridiculous clown.

Mu Chen tapped his fingers on the table and said coolly, "A substitute is always just a substitute. You'll never replace me."

I remained silent.

His eyes narrowed, his tone turning firm. "I'm here to tell you to stay away from Yang Xue. She's mine."

How disappointing for him.

I swirled my coffee, shook my head, and replied calmly, "She hasn't been home in a while, has she? Tell her there's a surprise waiting on the coffee table. It's exactly what you wanted."

Then, without sparing him another glance, I got up and left.

A love triangle is too crowded for three.

I was done playing.

Back at the studio, I began packing up, preparing to leave the city.

But that night, an unfamiliar number called me.

I picked up, only to hear Yang Xue's trembling, slightly panicked voice.

"Husband, are you really leaving me?"

Without hesitation, I hung up and blocked the number.

Lately, my life had been fulfilling. Without Yang Xue's constant drama, my mental state had improved significantly.

But why the hell did I pick up the call just now?

The first time she ever called me "husband" was three years ago.

After Mu Chen returned, she started calling me Shen Qing instead.

I had been furious about it.

She brushed it off, saying we were like an old married couple and that a name was just a name—what mattered was the love in her heart.

I believed her.

But in the end, my patience only made her bolder.

She never treated me like a husband. She didn't even treat me like a person.

And now, when I was finally freeing myself, she suddenly called me "husband" again.

I shoved those thoughts aside, lay down fully dressed, and hoped for a good night's sleep.

The next morning, I packed up the rest of my things and shipped them off. I planned to travel light.

Only "Memories" remained unfinished—I needed two more days to complete it.

Its completion would symbolize the end of my marriage.

Even if I was leaving, I didn't want an ugly scene.

Too bad Yang Xue didn't share that sentiment.

As soon as the moving truck left, she appeared at my studio's doorstep.

She rushed toward me so quickly that she tripped and fell. Then, looking up at me with hopeful eyes, she whispered:

"My dearest..."

Expressionless, I turned around and walked inside. What bad luck.

At this point, nothing about Yang Xue could stir my emotions.

She stepped into the studio, glancing around.

Noticing the absence of any signs of another woman, she seemed relieved and said hesitantly, "Come home with me, okay?"

I shook my head.

Her face looked tired and fragile—pitiful, even.

But she was no longer the woman I wanted.

The woman I truly loved was long gone.

Seeing me stare at her in silence, she lit up with hope and quickly added, "I admit I neglected your feelings before. I won't even ask you to apologize—just come home."

This was the second time she had mentioned "home" since arriving.

I ran my fingers over "Memories," my gaze drifting out the window to the mountains beyond.

Softly, I said, "Home? Do you mean the place where you left the master bedroom for your first love? Sorry, but that was never my home."

The apartment had been bought by her parents.

But I had paid for the renovations.

I never cared about material things—I had spent so much money, so much effort, just to build a love nest for us.

Every little detail was meticulously planned, hoping she would feel my love.

How ridiculous.

In the end, all I did was prepare a beautiful home for someone else's dream.

The moment Yang Xue said she was saving the master bedroom for her first love, I should have turned around and left.

Now, I was finally awake—cutting my losses in time.

Her face went pale. She opened her mouth as if to argue, but no words came out.

Because she knew.

What kind of married couple keeps their master bedroom empty, waiting for an ex?

Only a fool like me.

A fool who believed love could warm a heart that never cared.

How utterly ridiculous.

"You saw the divorce papers, didn't you?"

Seeing her speechless, I looked at the face I had adored for five years.

Too similar.

So similar that even in hell, I had once found solace in it.

But also, not the same at all.

If she were alive, she would have never let me suffer like this.

The memories flooded back—those dark, endless days. She had been the light that pulled me through.

My vision blurred. Before I could stop them, tears spilled over.

Yang Xue panicked. She threw her arms around me, trembling.

"Husband, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I was awful, I ignored your feelings for too long. But when I saw the divorce papers, I felt like I was losing you forever, and I nearly lost my mind!"

She clung to me the way I used to cling to her.

But too little, too late.

I didn't care anymore.

"Yang Xue, let me take you somewhere."

I could tell she wouldn't let this go.

To end things completely, I decided to bring her to a place where she would finally give up.

Her sudden change in attitude was baffling. I had asked for a divorce twice before, but I always caved because I couldn't let go of that face.

Now that I had let go, she refused.

I didn't understand her, and I didn't care to.

She wouldn't be my concern anymore.

Before leaving this city, I needed to cut ties once and for all.

The marriage certificate I had begged for once filled me with joy.

Now, it was a shackle.

The things I once cherished, I now loathed.

But none of that mattered anymore.

I would take her to that place and put an end to this miserable entanglement.

Yet, she didn't seem to expect the worst.

Instead, she thought I was wavering.

She was so happy.

She wanted to stay with me—to "make it up to me."

I refused.

I told her I didn't want to see her.

Her face turned even paler. She hesitated but, seeing my firm stance, reluctantly said, "Tomorrow, please come with me somewhere. I'll prove it to you."

I said nothing.

I watched her walk away, turning back every few steps, but my expression didn't change.

I shut the door and continued working on "Memories."

I forced myself through the pain, determined to make it my masterpiece.

A farewell to three years of marriage.

A farewell to my past.

It was the most heartfelt piece I had ever created.

By the time I was done, the night had passed.

The next morning, I opened the door, ready to head out—only to freeze.

Curled up on the hallway couch was a familiar figure.

Yang Xue.

She stirred and, seeing me, quickly sat up.

"Husband."

I stared at her tired face in silence.

Inside, my disgust only grew.

She had stayed outside all night.

I had been too immersed in my work to notice.

But her so-called "deep love" was nothing more than self-degradation in an attempt to gain pity.

I had already decided to divorce her—I didn't need this pathetic display.

It was nauseating.

If she had known how to cherish me, she wouldn't have trampled my love in the first place.

Now, what was she trying to do?

She looked like a child who had done something wrong, head lowered, fingers twisting her sleeve, eyes red with unshed tears.

In the past, I would have pulled her into my arms and comforted her gently.

Now, I just wanted her gone.

I used to be addicted to that face.

Now, I hated the person behind it.

The contradiction made my head ache.