Lu Yanjing didn’t sleep a wink all night, the sound of howling wind and torrential rain raging outside.
His mind replayed the last ten years with Shen Ruxia like a film on a loop. Their first meeting at Shengwa University, where Shen Ruxia had drugged him before they spent that first night together; her pregnancy used as leverage to force him into marriage; the marriage certificate they obtained under duress; the miscarriage two months into their union; and later, his relentless drive into entrepreneurship with his every waking hour poured into his career, right up until today’s divorce.
A decade of marriage, beginning with Shen Ruxia’s calculated scheming and ending with a final transactional divorce.
Those ten years had been defined by his cold violence and bitter resentment, mirrored by her constant guilt and shame.
By the time the sky grew pale and the rain finally tapered off, Lu Yanjing drifted into an exhausted, blurred sleep.
He was jolted awake by the phone.
It was a call from his close friend, Fu Jingyang.
“Shen Ruxia is gone. Did you know?”
Fu Jingyang’s voice carried a rare urgency, causing Lu Yanjing’s heart to tighten violently.
“What happened?”
“An accident,” Fu Jingyang said quickly. “A car crash. With the heavy rain last night, a semi-truck made an illegal lane change and smashed right into her car. Videos are already circulating online, and the Shen family has released an official statement. Her memorial service is tomorrow afternoon.”
Before Lu Yanjing could process that, Fu Jingyang added, “Are you going to the memorial?”
Fu Jingyang knew the ins and outs of Lu Yanjing and Shen Ruxia’s tangled history better than anyone. Back then, Shen Ruxia’s actions had certainly been ruthless; Lu Yanjing and An Songya had been the picture-perfect couple before Shen Ruxia’s scheming tore them apart.
Fu Jingyang had always known their marriage was miserable, but now that she was dead, he had no idea whether Lu Yanjing would bother to send her off on her final journey.
“Man, I’ll be straight with you. She was in the wrong at the very start, but over the years, watching from the sidelines, I’ve seen it—Shen Ruxia was genuinely good to you.”
A loud ringing filled Lu Yanjing’s ears. He felt as though he had lost the ability to hear, his mind turning completely blank, unable to process a single thought.
She had been fine just yesterday. How could she simply not exist today?
Lu Yanjing couldn’t possibly wait until tomorrow afternoon. He immediately hung up, bolted to the garage, and got into his car, intending to drive straight to the Shen residence.
Yet the engine wouldn’t turn over. His hands shook uncontrollably, his grip on the steering wheel failing to find any semblance of calm.
What should have been a ninety-minute drive took less than an hour.
Even though the two of them were already divorced, the moment Lu Yanjing arrived, the staff and relatives at the Shen household still respectfully addressed him as “President Lu.”
Shen Ruxia’s two older brothers, Shen Chengzhe and Shen Chengyi, stood at the entrance. Their deference and eagerness to please were written plainly across their faces.
Lu Yanjing vividly remembered how, years ago, those same two men had threatened him never to cast a greedy eye on the Shen family fortune, warning him they would crush him without a second thought. Now, the survival of the entire Shen Group rested entirely on a single word from him.
Shen Ruxia lay resting in the main hall. Every step Lu Yanjing took toward her felt crushing and heavy. She looked much as she always had, though unmistakable scars from the crash marred her face.
She lay there so quietly—so obedient and entirely alone—a sight that made Lu Yanjing’s eyes burn with pain.
He remembered a decade ago, when Shen Ruxia had strutted up to him in Valentino stilettos and a limited-edition Chanel dress.
Her opening words had been an absolute command, brooking no refusal.
“Lu Yanjing, I’m pregnant, so you have to marry me. I won’t let you get the short end of the stick. After we’re married, if you don’t want to work, I can support you. If you want to start a business, I can fund you. But if you refuse to marry me, my only option is to press charges for rape.”
Lu Yanjing could still vividly recall that arrogant, high-and-mighty socialite persona. It was the only time he had ever seen Shen Ruxia so headstrong, fierce, and blazing with life.
Sometimes he found himself wondering: if she had just kept acting like that—bossy, unreasonable, and unapologetic, with the two of them locking horns in a battle of love and hate—maybe they could have actually made a life together.
Instead, the moment they married, she turned utterly timid around him, constantly wearing the guilty, conscience-stricken expression of someone in the wrong. She became submissive in everything, keeping her eyes cast downward. After seeing that for so long, even he began to feel that since she knew full well how unforgivable her actions were, why should he ever forgive her? Why should he just breeze past it and live happily ever after?
Lu Yanjing barely remembered how he managed to leave the Shen residence, the drive back stretching out endlessly before him.
He didn’t want to go home. This time, the bedroom that held their wedding portrait was彻底 empty.
How had he ever agreed to her request for a divorce?
They had spent all those years maintaining a silent, mutual understanding never to pry open the old wounds left in each other’s hearts.
They both tacitly knew that whenever he casually brought up divorce, she would firmly refuse.
They had tacitly decided to spend the rest of their lives maintaining this awkward, estranged marriage steeped in coldness and guilt.
Even though he had already memorized every single one of Shen Ruxia’s preferences.
She loved sweets, loved traveling, cared nothing for jewelry, but possessed a deep obsession with jade.
His phone buzzed. It was a call from his assistant.
“President Lu, per your instructions, we’ve successfully bid on that imperial green jade set. You specified sparing no expense to secure it. It came out to just over five hundred million, but it’s truly a magnificent piece.”
A sharp pain pierced Lu Yanjing’s chest. It felt as though everything he ever tried to do for Shen Ruxia arrived a step too late.
The streets bustled with endless streams of people, yet Lu Yanjing felt an abysmal, crushing loneliness.
He didn’t want to go home, yet he had nowhere else to go. As he turned a corner, a sharp blade plunged straight into his chest.
Lu Yanjing looked up at his assailant. He recognized him—the young master of the Hongsheng Group, a company he had driven into bankruptcy not long ago. Having fallen from wealthy heir to desperate outcast, it wasn’t surprising someone would come looking for revenge.
The blade hadn’t struck deep; Lu Yanjing knew it wasn’t a fatal wound.
At the exact moment he lost consciousness, a twisted, macabre part of him almost felt a strange sense of relief. Taking that blade to the chest felt, in a perverse way, almost good.