Zhao Xinran opened her eyes groggily and felt herself being held in someone’s arms. She glanced sideways and, quite naturally, wrapped her arm around the man’s neck, settling into a more comfortable position against him.
Pei Hongwen looked down, his deep gaze resting on the top of her head, a flicker of love and inner conflict passing through his eyes.
He knew full well that Zhao Xinran didn’t love him; she had chosen him and pursued him simply because he happened to be the right person at the time.
But he had long been deeply drawn to her and found it utterly sweet.
He also firmly believed he could give Zhao Xinran the happiness she desired.
It wasn’t until he read that diary entry that he realized how naive he’d been—she had never once felt happy with him.
Perhaps he should have listened to Gu Yue and set her free.
But the mere thought of having to say those words out loud felt like a knife twisting in his heart, causing him unbearable pain.
Zhao Xinran didn’t notice Pei Hongwen’s unusual demeanor. By now, she had regained her composure. As she was laid on the bed and her shoes were removed, Zhao Xinran propped herself up slightly, reached out to him, and blinked.
Pei Hongwen understood and took an exquisitely wrapped gift box from his pocket, handing it to Zhao Xinran.
She sat up straight and accepted it with a look of delight on her face, but when she opened it, her smile froze.
Inside the box was a diamond watch from a certain luxury brand—one that depreciates the moment you own it. It was quite expensive, and Zhao Xinran winced at the sight of the diamonds set into it.
Holding the watch, Zhao Xinran didn’t immediately put it on her wrist. Instead, she gazed at its dazzling brilliance and silently wondered how much better it would have been if that money had been deposited directly into her bank account.
Seeing the look of surprise and delight gradually fade from Zhao Xinran’s face, he knew exactly what she was thinking.
He bent down again and pulled open the nightstand drawer, revealing the gold bars stacked neatly inside.
Zhao Xinran counted them—there were exactly ten.
For their fifth wedding anniversary, Pei Hongwen had given her ten 500-gram gold bars.
Looking at the gleaming gold, her eyes narrowed with delight. She carefully picked up a bar with her fingers, placed it in the palm of her hand, and weighed it in her hand. She was thoroughly satisfied—so much so that she even had a slightly materialistic urge to hold it to her lips and take a gentle bite.
But she held back.
Zhao Xinran looked at Pei Hongwen with some suspicion: “It’s not exactly a special occasion today. Why are you giving me so much?”
“Didn’t you say gold holds its value? These are all for you. Are you happy?” Pei Hongwen’s expression was impassive. Dressed in his loungewear, he slipped his hands into his pockets and unconsciously clenched his fists.
“I’m happy,” Zhao Xinran nodded honestly, her eyes still seeming to reflect the gleam of the gold bars.
“As long as you’re happy. Happy fifth anniversary. Good night. Get some rest.” Pei Hongwen nodded, turned, and walked away, heading back to his own room.
They’d been married for five years, and aside from their wedding night, they’d basically slept in separate rooms.
Zhao Xinran slept in the master bedroom, while he slept in the guest room.
It was simply because Zhao Xinran wasn’t used to sharing a bed with anyone, and Pei Hongwen always held her so tightly in bed that she couldn’t push him away, which often led to a series of nightmares.
Unable to sleep well, she had taken the initiative to suggest they sleep in separate rooms. Her original intention was to have the large bed in the master bedroom removed and replaced with two narrower ones, but Pei Hongwen wasn’t pleased when he heard this. He responded with silence, and in the end, he took the initiative to move into the guest bedroom.
Now, seeing Pei Hongwen about to leave after giving her the gift, Zhao Xinran felt a pang of unease.
He’s been so good to her; she should care more about him. In a few months, it’ll be Pei Hongwen’s birthday, and she’s determined to make time to celebrate it properly with him.
Having made up her mind, Zhao Xinran got up, stepped out of bed barefoot, and hurried over to stand behind Pei Hongwen, wrapping her arms gently around his waist: “Husband, thank you. I really love this year’s gift.”
Apart from in bed, Zhao Xinran rarely called him husband—so rarely, in fact, that he could count the instances on one hand.
Their relationship as a married couple was abnormal; he should have realized that long ago.
Pei Hongwen wanted to walk away, but Zhao Xinran wasn’t willing to let go.
Holding onto Pei Hongwen’s waist, her hand moved downward with the utmost naturalness, slipping beneath the hem of his shirt.
His abs were firm and powerful, with well-defined muscles. Although he spent most of his time in the lab, Zhao Xinran preferred a man in good shape, so no matter how busy he was, Pei Hongwen insisted on working out three times a week.
Her fingers, calloused from work, glided upward along his abs, moving inch by inch. Leaning against his broad, muscular shoulders, she closed her eyes to savor the supple, resilient sensation beneath her palms.
Finally, her fingers came to rest beneath his pectoral muscles. She applied a little pressure with both hands, giving them a gentle squeeze—she was very satisfied. Just as she was about to begin massaging them, she was suddenly pushed away.
Pei Hongwen cleared his throat, smoothed out his clothes, and blushed slightly, looking somewhat uncomfortable.
“Don’t do that…” he refused softly, but upon closer listening, his voice trembled—his refusal wasn’t very firm.
Zhao Xinran watched his reaction with great amusement, the corners of her mouth curving upward. Her excitement, which she couldn’t contain, surged to her head, and her hand struck its target with precision—her touch was both fierce and forceful: “Don’t what?”
“Am I not even allowed to touch my husband’s pecs?”
“……” Once again, Zhao Xinran was met with Pei Hongwen’s usual silence. He dared not look at her, swallowing the gasp that had risen to his lips. He thought to himself that he was going to file for divorce tomorrow—if things were still like this today, how could he possibly save face?
Zhao Xinran didn’t understand his inner conflict. She’d just received a gold bar and was in high spirits; she’d also had quite a bit to drink that evening. Now, as she ran her hands over his firm muscles, her mind was racing with desire, and she couldn’t wait to get into bed with him.
Besides, once the mood was set, she had to act on it—there was no way she could force herself to hold back. She wasn’t the type to deny herself pleasure.
Zhao Xinran gazed at his crimson-flushed ears, stood on tiptoe, and planted a kiss there. When she didn’t get a response from him after a long wait, she grew impatient and simply reached out to strip off all her outer clothes and pants.
Her clothes were tossed at Pei Hongwen’s feet. He didn’t move, his fingers clenched so tightly in his pants pocket that his knuckles turned white, and he didn’t dare even glance at Zhao Xinran.
He loved Zhao Xinran, and his devotion to everything she gave him bordered on obsession. He wanted to draw closer, yet he feared that once he did, he would never be able to let her go.
A whirlwind of emotions battled and tangled in his mind until a thin yet warm piece of fabric was forcefully tucked into his collar by the woman. He spun around abruptly, and in that instant, intense emotions surged through his chest.
Before he could make sense of it, his belt was yanked open, and a warm hand slid inside…
With a “boom!” of sensation, pleasure exploded in his mind, and his already wavering refusal was lost forever.
Pei Hongwen suddenly wrapped his arms around Zhao Xinran’s waist, seized her red lips, and leaned down to kiss her fiercely.
Soft and fragrant, so sweet he wanted to greedily swallow them whole.
But he couldn’t.
A hand—gentle yet firm—pushed him away, just like Zhao Xinran’s domineering personality.
It was only after being with Zhao Xinran that he realized there were women like this.
As domineering as a king, competitive and ambitious, she compelled him to submit both in and out of bed.
Pei Hongwen was pinned down on the bed, his handsome cheeks already flushed crimson. His eyes gazed adoringly at Zhao Xinran, who was straddling him; his thin lips parted slightly, moving as he whispered something.
But Zhao Xinran, lost in her own world, had no time to listen.
Her gaze, filled with aggression and possessiveness, scanned the tall, slender body beneath her from head to toe. She nodded in satisfaction, her heart racing with passion. She felt an unprecedented surge of excitement and exhilaration—the man beneath her was her husband, the sole son of the Pei family, a young Ph.D. at the research institute, and the “pride of the world” in the eyes of the public—yet he submitted only to her.
Hot sweat dripped from her chin. The man lay on his back on the bed, his hands resting on her lower back. His lips parted slightly as he swallowed almost greedily: “Zhao Xinran…”
“Hmm?”
“Wife… wife… wife…” He murmured it over and over, as if he could never say it enough, his gaze unwilling to leave her for even a moment, the corners of his mouth curving slightly before quickly tightening into a straight line.
“Mm… Husband.”
…
Once everything had settled, Pei Hongwen sat up, wiped himself off briefly, then bent down to pick up Zhao Xinran.
Zhao Xinran was utterly exhausted; by the time they reached the bathroom, she had already fallen into a deep sleep.
Pei Hongwen held her in one arm while running the water with the other.
When the bathtub was full of hot water, he tested the temperature, then bent down to lower her in. As the warm water lapped at her collarbone and was about to cover her nose and mouth, he snapped back to his senses, crouched down abruptly, and lifted her out of the water.
Then, kneeling on one knee, he held her tightly against his chest. Pei Hongwen pressed his lips, trembling, against the side of her neck. Hot tears welled up in his eyes, and his voice was barely audible: “Zhao Xinran, I truly wish I could die with you. That way, I wouldn’t have to wonder anymore whether you love me or not, or whether you’re truly happy with me…”
But he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
He couldn’t bear to kill Zhao Xinran with his own hands, nor could he bear to see her unhappy.
He should have let her go of his own accord.
The man held her so tightly that, in her sleep, Zhao Xinran felt as if she were being wrapped by a python, almost unable to breathe. She struggled and woke up, glimpsing a handsome face in a daze—familiar yet unfamiliar—and thought she was still dreaming.
She narrowed her eyes, the corners of her mouth curving upward, her tone flirty: “Handsome guy, you look just like my husband.”
“Is that so?” Pei Hongwen looked at her half-open eyes and smiled helplessly, but before he could react, a hand suddenly brushed against the corner of his smiling mouth: “No, you’re not him. He doesn’t smile.”
The smile vanished instantly from his lips, and Pei Hongwen resumed his usual aloof, unsmiling demeanor. He stared at Zhao Xinran, tightening his grip on her hand.
“Ugh… I can’t breathe…” Zhao Xinran frowned as the alcohol and drowsiness washed over her at once. She was exhausted; her eyes were too heavy to stay open. All she wanted right now was to fall asleep as quickly as possible, but being held so tightly left her unable to breathe. She felt unbearably uncomfortable and couldn’t be bothered to distinguish between reality and a dream anymore. Her hand, which had been hanging at her side, shot up quickly: “Let go. ”
“Smack!” A crisp slap echoed through the empty bathroom.
It didn’t really hurt, but it startled Pei Hongwen. He turned his face to the side and loosened his grip. Zhao Xinran finally got her wish. The hand that had just struck him gently wrapped around his neck once more. She rested her cheek against his firm chest, closed her eyes contentedly, and sighed softly, “Good boy!”
Pei Hongwen couldn’t stand hearing Zhao Xinran call him that; he panicked instantly, unsure whether to let go or keep holding her. It took him a while to come to his senses; he released his grip and continued washing her.
He washed her with great care, skillfully scrubbing every inch of her skin, gazing at her body with an almost obsessive intensity. Only when Zhao Xinran was asleep did he dare to express his almost obsessive love for her so openly and unguarded.
He didn’t want to let her go—he couldn’t bear to leave her, couldn’t bear to part with her.
Pei Hongwen could feel that if he didn’t let go now, he would completely lose his mind.
He couldn’t stay true to himself; he couldn’t stop himself from eavesdropping on Zhao Xinran’s schedule; he couldn’t control the resentment of being left at home to wait in agony; he couldn’t control his longing for her to return his love in equal measure; he couldn’t control the urge to clip her wings, to keep her by his side forever, so that those smiling eyes would see only him…
Pei Hongwen was on the verge of madness, driven to the brink by a love he could not possess.
Gu Yue said that if this continued, his love would destroy her—and destroy them both.
Pei Hongwen wasn’t afraid of self-destruction, but he was afraid that he might lose control and destroy her.
She had worked so hard to reach her current position; he shouldn’t—and couldn’t—be an obstacle in her path.
Since five years of effort hadn’t been enough to make Zhao Xinran fall in love with him, then he’d let her go.
Set her free.
Pei Hongwen steeled himself once more, made up his mind, and resolved to file for divorce first thing tomorrow morning.
After they’d both finished showering, Pei Hongwen dressed Zhao Xinran in clean clothes, then gently laid her on the bed, tucked her in, bent down to pick up the clothes scattered all over the floor, and carried them into the bathroom.
He put the jacket and shirt in the washing machine and held the undergarments in his hands.
Standing in front of the sink, Pei Hongwen squeezed some laundry detergent onto the fabric and began to gently rub it in.
As he scrubbed, his eyes stung with tears.
The thought of someone else washing her underwear in the future made him feel unbearably miserable.