Was he in pain too?
She understood.
He would carry her as a burden for his entire life, unable to break free—how could he not be in pain?
His true love was right beside him, yet because of her presence, they couldn’t be together openly—how could he not be in pain?
Torn between conscience and the impulse to break free—how could he not be in pain?
So, Wen Tingyan, wouldn’t it be better to let me go?
Returning home alone, Jian Zhi faced ten watch boxes laid out before her.
She had been staring blankly at the watch boxes for a long time.
For a moment, she desperately wanted to smash each box against the wall.
But she didn’t do it.
Impulsiveness wouldn’t solve anything.
After finally calming down, she opened a second-hand trading app and began searching for luxury goods buyers. Soon, she found a local one and arranged for them to come pick up the watches at ten o’clock the next morning.
Ten o’clock was exactly when the housekeeper Aunt Chen would be out grocery shopping.
Having dealt with this matter, she opened her laptop and began intently researching visa application procedures.
Teacher Zhao’s tour group was scheduled to depart in just one month. Her time to leave was truly beginning its countdown.
Sitting before the computer, completely focused, she browsed through post after post. Her emotions surged—the world had never felt so tranquil, yet so exhilarating. Before she knew it, the entire night had passed.
She was so absorbed that she didn’t even notice Wen Tingyan’s return.
It wasn’t until his voice sounded from the doorway behind her—”What are you doing?”—that she hurriedly snapped the laptop shut.
Wen Tingyan had returned, maintaining his usual gentle demeanor as if nothing had happened. He approached her and asked in a soft voice, “Watching a drama? What show is so interesting that you’re still up this late?”
He was making small talk.
Her hand pressed tightly against the laptop, the browser windows still open inside. “It’s a show you wouldn’t like.”
“How do you know I wouldn’t like it if I haven’t seen it?” He reached to open her laptop.
No, she didn’t want him to see what she had been browsing. She held it down firmly, refusing to let go.
Thinking she was still angry, he stopped trying to take it and knelt down instead, looking at her profile. “Still upset?”
“No.” Her heart held many emotions—disappointment, despair, anger—but anger toward him wasn’t one of them.
Anger would mean she could be placated with some coaxing, that she still held hope for this marriage. But she… had no hope left for her marriage…
Five years was truly enough.
“Jian Zhi, Cheng Cheng and I really have nothing between us. We’re just classmates and friends. She returned from abroad, and a group of friends gathered to welcome her back. The misunderstanding at the mall today was purely accidental. Please believe me.” Now he had regained his usual patience and gentleness.
When she remained silent, he continued, “We originally planned to have dinner with your parents today, but that didn’t happen. Should we reschedule for another day?”
She shook her head.
She didn’t want to go home for dinner.
When she returned home, her parents and younger brother would only tell her how incredibly fortunate she was—a woman with a lame leg—to have married Wen Tingyan.
“Don’t want to go home? It’s been over a month since we visited your parents. Don’t you miss them?”
His voice grew increasingly gentle. She gazed into his eyes but saw no passion behind the gentleness.
Gentleness seemed like a program written into his very being, automatically running upon startup.
“Wen Tingyan,” she said, “Aren’t you tired?”
He froze, seemingly not understanding what she meant.
She gave a bitter smile. “You have someone in your heart, yet you still ask after me every day—aren’t you tired?”
Wen Tingyan’s eyes widened in shock. “I don’t—”
“Wen Tingyan, stop deceiving yourself. Some things are better left unsaid—it’s embarrassing for everyone. Actually, divorce would be good for both of us, really. Luo Yucheng fits your ideal of Mrs. Wen better…”
“Jian Zhi!” Wen Tingyan cut her off. “Are you still hung up on Cheng Cheng? I’ve explained it many times already.”
“Wen Tingyan, the one who can’t get past Cheng Cheng isn’t me.” She stared at him. “It’s you.”
Wen Tingyan froze again. “Jian Zhi…”
“We both know it, don’t we?” She tried to sound calm, to show she was seriously discussing this rather than throwing a tantrum. “It’s time to put a period on our five years, Wen Tingyan. Let’s part with dignity and let past grievances fade with the wind.”
Wen Tingyan stared at her for a long moment before standing up. “Jian Zhi, you’re overthinking this. You’ll understand later—Cheng Cheng’s return won’t change anything. It’s late, get some rest.”
“Wen Tingyan, I know you feel guilty toward me, but you don’t need to anymore. I really don’t want a marriage built on guilt. Let me go, and let yourself go too, okay—”
Before she could finish, Wen Tingyan took off his coat and went into the bathroom.
She looked at the coat he’d thrown on the small sofa. In the past, she would have hung it up for him, then found his pajamas and placed them outside the bathroom door.
But this time, she didn’t move.
Over the past five years, she’d often thought: with her bad leg preventing her from working, unable to contribute to the household, and with Wen Tingyan arranging everything perfectly, she was like a decorative piece at home—utterly useless to him. Still, she wanted to care for him as best she could…
She might have overlooked one thing: perhaps what he needed wasn’t her insignificant care, but a presentable Mrs. Wen—someone who could stand beside him to greet clients, for instance.
She just didn’t understand what he was clinging to, why he still refused to divorce despite everything…
When Wen Tingyan came out of the bathroom, he went straight to bed, clearly refusing to speak further.
Jian Zhi didn’t bring it up again.
Forget it—every conversation drained her energy anyway. She’d be better off using that time to plan her future, working toward her own goals. When she could finally leave, whether they divorced or not wouldn’t matter anymore.
Lying in bed, her thoughts were no longer occupied with Wen Tingyan or Luo Yucheng, but with her travel plans—in a month, she would join Teacher Zhao’s European tour, and by the time it ended, the new semester would begin…
She glanced at Wen Tingyan beside her—already fast asleep.
In the dim light, she could only make out the vague outline of his profile. The distance between them in bed—enough for three people—felt vast and unbridgeable…
Wen Tingyan, I’ve decided not to blame you anymore. I hope you find happiness after I’m gone.
The only thing she was grateful for now was that they’d never consummated their marriage, that they had no children. Otherwise, life would have been twice as hard.
Never would she have imagined that what once weighed heavily on her mind, even breaking her heart, had turned out to be a blessing in disguise.
That night, she slept soundly. The next morning, she didn’t even wake up naturally—instead, she was roused by the sensation of someone moving around nearby.
When she opened her eyes, Wen Tingyan was sitting at the edge of her bed.