Meng Yue

At a dinner party, the genius artist's wife used her hands insured for millions to crack open crabs for her male assistant. It was just to coax her without an appetite to eat something. And when I was drinking to the point of vomiting blood to get her investments, I asked her to fetch me some stomach medicine. She outright refused: 'My hands are for painting, don't you have your own hands?' For ten years, she couldn’t even be bothered to change her rejection phrasing. That day, sobered by the cold wind, I asked a lawyer to draft a divorce agreement. Shen Xiaolan, in this rushed and chaotic world, we are no longer on the same path.
At a dinner party, the genius artist's wife used her hands insured for millions to crack open crabs for her male assistant. It was just to coax her without an appetite to eat something. And when I was drinking to the point of vomiting blood to get her investments, I asked her to fetch me some stomach medicine. She outright refused: 'My hands are for painting, don't you have your own hands?' For ten years, she couldn’t even be bothered to change her rejection phrasing. That day, sobered by the cold wind, I asked a lawyer to draft a divorce agreement. Shen Xiaolan, in this rushed and chaotic world, we are no longer on the same path.
At a dinner party, the genius artist's wife used her hands insured for millions to crack open crabs for her male assistant. It was just to coax her without an appetite to eat something. And when I was drinking to the point of vomiting blood to get her investments, I asked her to fetch me some stomach medicine. She outright refused: 'My hands are for painting, don't you have your own hands?' For ten years, she couldn’t even be bothered to change her rejection phrasing. That day, sobered by the cold wind, I asked a lawyer to draft a divorce agreement. Shen Xiaolan, in this rushed and chaotic world, we are no longer on the same path.

After Divorcing and Going Abroad, Artist Wife Regretted

Juanna's global art exhibition was very successful, and soon we arrived at the Hua Country stop.


As we walked out of the airport, we were quickly surrounded by journalists.


Among them were reporters trying to dig up stories about Shen Xiaolan and me, but Juanna blocked them all one by one.


At this point, a haggard figure squeezed in holding a painting.


The painting was the Sunset in Paris that I had torn up myself on the day I left the studio, now glued back together piece by piece.


Despite the crowd's gaze, Shen Xiaolan knelt down and pleaded:


"Song Xiao, do you remember the promise we made back then? It was my fault, I broke it, so I searched through the trash and stayed up late for a month to glue it back together!"


"Look, I've done so much for you, the painting has been restored, so we can also reconcile, right?"


My gaze fell on the painting filled with crooked cracks.


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