“Why are you still wearing clothes?”
Watching Rong Yan walk out of the bathroom fully dressed, the man with only a bath towel wrapped around his waist furrowed his brows slightly and asked in a cold voice.
Taking a seat on the sofa across from the man, Rong Yan’s face was somewhat pale.
“Jiang Yuhan, I have something I need to tell you.”
“Come here.”
Remembering that the divorce agreement was placed in the drawer beside the man, Rong Yan stood up and walked over.
But before her hand could even touch the drawer, she was pressed down onto the sofa by Jiang Yuhan.
The man lightly gripped her slender waist, his voice low and deep.
“Can whatever it is wait until later? You’re being very disobedient tonight.”
Although Rong Yan was wearing a short T-shirt, Young Master Jiang still found it troublesome.
“Jiang Yuhan, I really do have something very important to tell you…”
The kiss the man pressed down on her was domineering and forceful, making it hard for her to even breathe.
Her feeble slaps only made the man even more unstoppable.
They had been married for nearly a year now, but this man was still so formidable that she was afraid of him.
By the time it finally ended, Rong Yan didn’t even have the strength to speak.
She closed her eyes, tears sliding past the corners of her eyes and landing on the pillow.
Before today, she had thought she had met the right person, that the rest of her life would be happy.
Little did she expect that this bubble of happiness would be popped by a single photograph.
When dawn broke, hearing the faint sound of the door closing, Rong Yan opened her eyes.
Her body ached terribly, but she gritted her teeth and sat up.
Although she was the most useless young lady of the Rong family, she still wanted to divorce with a bit of dignity.
Going to the walk-in closet, Rong Yan picked out a very plain white dress and changed into it, even applying a light touch of makeup.
Sitting down on the sofa, she took out the divorce agreement and the photograph from the drawer, placed them neatly on the coffee table, and quietly waited for Jiang Yuhan to return from his morning run.
The woman in the photograph wore a red dress, smiling with unrestrained confidence. Although she had the same face as Rong Yan, it was clear from this photograph that the woman had a very different personality from hers.
There were no red dresses in her wardrobe, and she would never smile with such abandon.
And on the back of the photograph, there were five words written.
A Zhi, I love you.
Having been married for nearly a year now, Rong Yan could recognize that it was Jiang Yuhan’s handwriting.
The door was pushed open, and as Jiang Yuhan walked in, the first thing he saw was the photograph, and then the divorce agreement.
Without standing up, Rong Yan spoke slowly.
“This photograph—I found it in your study, inside that copy of Jane Eyre.”
Yesterday afternoon, after tidying up Jiang Yuhan’s study for him, she saw that there was still time and thought she’d read for a while.
As if possessed, she happened to pick up that copy of Jane Eyre with the photograph tucked inside.
Even heaven couldn’t bear to watch any longer, could it? It had to tell her that she was nothing but a stand-in.
Rong Yan let out a self-deprecating smile. Her voice was not loud, but each word was clear and distinct for all to hear.
“Divorce. I don’t want to be a stand-in anymore.”
Not looking at Jiang Yuhan, Rong Yan kept her gaze fixed on the photograph.
She could manage to hold back her tears, but she couldn’t stop her heart from aching.
A year ago, at Old Master Jiang’s birthday banquet, Jiang Yuhan had chosen her to be his luck-bringing bride.
A fortune teller had declared that Jiang Yuhan would not live past thirty, and the only solution was to marry to ward off bad luck.
She had thought that Jiang Yuhan had taken a liking to her, which was why he chose her without hesitation.
She had been too naive.
A sudden flash of firelight startled Rong Yan.
Right in front of her, Jiang Yuhan burned the photograph—and the divorce papers.
He gave Rong Yan no chance to stop him. Not that she would have dared to throw herself at the flames with her bare hands.
Besides, what was being burned was A Zhi’s photograph.
As for the divorce agreement, Rong Yan had backups. She could print as many copies as she wanted!
After watching everything burn to ash, Jiang Yuhan picked up the glass of water on the table and doused the fire, his face cold as ice.
“Rong Yan, there’s only one way you’ll ever get a divorce from me—when I’m dead.”