Shen Moyan left.
Before leaving, he said on a whim, “I’ll come back early tomorrow night, Zhao Zhao. Help me make up for my birthday.”
Three years, and this was the first time he’d called her Zhao Zhao.
Yet Qiao Zhao felt not a trace of emotion—only that the name had been tarnished.
She didn’t want any trouble before the divorce, so she lowered her eyes and nodded, looking obedient.
.
Early the next morning, Lu Yao’s car pulled up outside Qingwan Villa.
Qiao Zhao had Aunt Lin help her load all the packed belongings into the car.
“Madam, you…” Aunt Lin stood at the door, hesitating.
“Aunt Lin.” Qiao Zhao cut her off. “Thank you for taking care of me all these years.”
Aunt Lin’s eyes reddened slightly as she shook her head.
They understood each other without words, but neither said it aloud.
Qiao Zhao held the car door, glanced back once, then sat in without lingering.
Her mother had died young, her father was a drunk, her brother was sick—she had once treated this place as home.
But in the end, this villa was nothing more than Shen Moyan’s fig leaf.
She wouldn’t celebrate his birthday again, wouldn’t take wedding photos with him.
When he came back tonight, he’d find that there was no future for them.
Passing by a secondhand shop, she sold everything she’d packed.
All together, it sold for 2.5 million.
That number… seemed to mock these three years of marriage—she’d been a complete fool through and through.
But Qiao Zhao looked up at the sun, her eyes and brows full of smiles.
Lu Yao raised an eyebrow. “Classic money-grubber. See cash, get happy.”
“Yao Yao.” Qiao Zhao sat in the car and slipped off the ring on her ring finger—the Shen family heirloom, to be returned later—and said softly, “It’s different.”
What she’d sold was a burden. A new home couldn’t move in useless things.
Lu Yao was impressively efficient—she’d found her a nice place overnight, in the same complex as hers, even the same building, just a different unit.
Moving light made settling in simple.
That evening, Lu Yao wanted to drag her to a bar to order some male models to celebrate her escape from the fire pit, but she had a business trip early the next morning, so she bought hotpot ingredients instead and helped her warm up the new place.
That night, lying in bed in her new home, Qiao Zhao was envisioning the future when her phone buzzed.
A message from Shen Moyan: “Zhao Zhao, I have something tonight. Don’t wait for me. Let’s spend the weekend together tomorrow.”
A mocking smile curled at the corner of Qiao Zhao’s lips.
Tomorrow there was no “us”—only “me” and “you.”
Early the next morning, just as Qiao Zhao was about to leave, she got a call from Lu Yao—something had come up at the company, and she couldn’t go.
She also said she’d found her a travel companion, all mysterious about it.
At the boarding gate, Qiao Zhao spotted Lin Yuzhou at a glance.
He wore a light gray trench coat, standing in the crowd like a quiet tree.
Qiao Zhao walked over with a smile and patted his shoulder.
Lin Yuzhou was looking for her too. Seeing her bare-faced, a flicker of admiration passed through his eyes.
“So the companion Lu Yao mentioned—it’s you?” She laughed.
He nodded with a smile and took her luggage.
Only upon boarding did she realize the economy seats had been upgraded to first class.
Catching the confusion in her eyes, Lin Yuzhou explained, “Lu Yao told me you’ve been moving these past couple days, so you must be exhausted. Rest well on the flight.”
The two had grown up on the same street. In the past two years, he’d made a name for himself in the legal world—this money was nothing to him. Qiao Zhao didn’t stand on ceremony. “Thanks.”
Lin Yuzhou: “Really going through with the divorce? Need any help?”
The divorce agreement was something he had prepared himself, so it came as no surprise.
Qiao Zhao thought for a moment. “Actually, there is something. Help me contact a hospital—I need to transfer my father.”
What she had asked Shen Moyan to sign that day wasn’t a treatment notice—it was a transfer consent form.
Hospital policy required two family members to sign before a patient could be transferred.
Lin Yuzhou laughed. “I knew it. Shen Moyan doesn’t deserve you.”
Qiao Zhao shot him a sideways glance. “Gloating?”
“I’m happy for you.”
They landed in Haicheng right around noon, and Lin Yuzhou took her straight to a local specialty restaurant.
After lunch, they returned to the hotel, and only then did Qiao Zhao remember her phone had been off.
She turned it on, and a flood of messages came through.
The first was from Shen Moyan: “I’m sorry, I can’t make it back today.”
She used to think he was a gentleman of refined character, with the proud integrity of the ancients. But this was the very man who treated his promises like sticky notes—stuck on casually, torn off casually.
No—he had promised Gu Qingxu he wouldn’t touch other women, and that was why he could go three years of marriage without sharing a bed with her.
He just didn’t care about her, that was all.
She didn’t care anymore either. It was only a matter of sooner or later before he noticed she’d moved out.
After resting for two hours, the stylist Qiao Zhao had booked arrived.
The Chu family was one of the most prominent clans in Haicheng, and Old Master Chu’s birthday banquet drew a gathering of political and business elites.
Qiao Zhao didn’t have an invitation, planning to figure out a way to sneak in once she got there. But Lin Yuzhou’s law firm had a partnership with the Chu family, so he was there representing the firm.
The banquet was held in the largest ballroom of Puyue Hotel, dazzling with lights and clinking glasses, filled with faces she didn’t recognize.
She stayed close to Lin Yuzhou, like a small creature that had wandered into a jungle by mistake.
On the second floor, a pair of eyes fixed on her like a cold blade.
“That’s him—the head of the Chu family, Chu Chiyuan.” Lin Yuzhou held his wine glass and lowered his voice.
Qiao Zhao followed his gaze upward. By the railing on the second floor, a man with a wild, untamed air was looking down—clearly someone not easy to deal with.
“I’ll go have a word.” Qiao Zhao took a deep breath and headed upstairs.
Lin Yuzhou, uneasy, followed her up.
Chu Chiyuan was walking toward the lounge area with another man.
“Mr. Chu.” Qiao Zhao chased after him in her high heels and blocked his path.
Her footing faltered and she nearly fell. Lin Yuzhou caught her, but she still twisted her ankle.
“Who the hell—” Chu Chiyuan’s face darkened. Someone actually dared to block his way.
But when he saw the person before him, he paused, then glanced at the man beside him.
Qiao Zhao followed his gaze and turned to meet a pair of eyes cold to the bone.
Tan Zheng.
Qiao Zhao forced herself to stay calm, but inside, her emotions churned like a storm.
Fate was too cruel with its tricks.
In the past three years, she’d never run into him once. But lately, she kept encountering him—and always at her most humiliating moments.
Tan Zheng looked at Lin Yuzhou’s hand resting on Qiao Zhao’s shoulder, and his gaze darkened.
Qiao Zhao steadied herself, and once she was standing firm, a perfectly measured smile appeared on her face. “I heard Mr. Chu has a batch of High-Cesium Copper. I’m willing to pay 120% of the market price to purchase it. I hope Mr. Chu would be willing to part with it.”
Chu Chiyuan looked at Tan Zheng and smiled meaningfully. “Should I have it, or shouldn’t I?”
Tan Zheng: “You don’t even know whether you have it or not. Maybe get your head checked first.”
With that, he strode forward, his shoulder knocking into Lin Yuzhou as he passed.
Lin Yuzhou stumbled to the side, creating some distance from Qiao Zhao, and his hand fell away.
Chu Chiyuan took it all in and gave a faint smile. “Apologies, miss. That batch of goods—I have other plans for it.”
With that, he too walked away.
“Mr. Chu.” Qiao Zhao hurried forward two steps.