She usually clung to him so tightly, yet now, right after they had been intimate, she was asking for a divorce. For a man, there was nothing more insulting than that.
And he didn't believe she truly wanted a divorce.
A woman who had been willing to sacrifice her reputation to marry him—who had even framed her own savior—how could she possibly change overnight?
It was too abnormal.
He had no feelings for Xu Anhao whatsoever.
No man would like someone who repaid kindness with betrayal and framed him to clear her own path.
For the past three months, he had avoided her, kept her at a distance, and refused to even give her a proper look.
But now things were different.
Regardless of how it had happened, he had touched her.
And since he had, he should take responsibility.
This was what he had been taught since childhood, the discipline the military had instilled in him, the bottom line of his character.
But he had never expected that Xu Anhao would take the initiative to ask for a divorce when things had already reached this point.
Zhou Yunji felt as if something was stuck in his chest.
What did she mean by this?
Was she disgusted with him?
The moment this thought surfaced, even he himself was taken aback.
He had never imagined that one day he would be "disgusted" by this woman.
Didn't she love him to the point of death? Didn't she resort to any means to marry him? And just because of what happened tonight, she had changed?
Or was it that… she had been pretending all along?
No.
Those eyes couldn't lie.
The way she looked at him held no trace of her former fervor, no resentment, no grievance—only calm.
Calm as if she were looking at a stranger.
That look made him very uncomfortable.
"Do you know what you're saying?" he asked, his voice lowering.
"I know," Xu Anhao said. "Divorce. You write the report, I leave. Once it's approved in two or three months, I'll come back to sign."
"Where will you go?"
"I'll go back to my home."
Zhou Yunji assumed she meant the Song family and didn't ask further. His mind was too much of a mess right now to bother with such details.
"Have you thought this through? After the divorce, what will you do?"
"I'll get by however I can." Xu Anhao looked up at him, her tone indifferent. "Do you think there's any difference between being married to you and not being married?"
Zhou Yunji was rendered speechless again.
What difference was there?
He had barely come home in three months, had nothing to say when they met, never ate the meals she cooked, never acknowledged her waiting at the door.
Apart from that marriage certificate, there really was no difference.
But hearing it from her mouth, it just didn't sit right with him.
"If there's no difference, then why did you marry me in the first place?"
The moment the words left his mouth, Zhou Yunji regretted it.
It was a pointless question.
Why she married him—they both knew perfectly well.
But Xu Anhao wasn't annoyed. She just smiled faintly.
That smile was very faint, so faint it was almost invisible.
"How about… you just pretend I was blind back then."
Zhou Yunji was stunned.
Blind?
She was saying he… wasn't worth it?
Those words stung more than "I agree to the divorce."
What was this supposed to mean—now that she'd gotten what she wanted, she stopped cherishing it?
He was about to say something when Xu Anhao yawned.
"I'm going to sleep. If there's nothing else, please close the door on your way out. Thanks."
Only after she said it did Xu Anhao belatedly realize—this was Zhou Yunji's room.
She glanced around. Grayish walls, an old three-drawer desk, an enamel mug and a few worn books on it.
Not her room.
The room she slept in was smaller than this one, with a north-facing window and nowhere near this much moonlight.
So the bed she was lying on now was his bed.
Xu Anhao's face burned with embarrassment.
She forced out an awkward but polite smile. "Sorry about that. I'll get out. I'll get out."
As she spoke, she propped herself up to sit.
Her legs were still weak. The moment her feet touched the floor, she nearly collapsed. She scrambled to grab the edge of the bed to steady herself.
The blanket slipped, revealing a striking patch of red on the bedsheet.
Xu Anhao saw it.
Zhou Yunji saw it too.
Their gazes froze on it at the same time.
The room suddenly went so quiet they could hear each other breathing.
Xu Anhao's mind went blank with a buzz, and her face burst into flames.
She quickly looked away, pretending she hadn't seen it, and fumbled for her clothes beside her.
But her hands were shaking so badly that she grabbed at the clothes several times without managing to pick them up.
Zhou Yunji stood where he was, looking at that patch of red, then at her flustered state.
The tightness clogging his chest suddenly dissipated a little.
What replaced it was a feeling he couldn't quite name.
He had just finished showering and had originally planned to go to the dormitory.
So when he heard her mention divorce, he thought she was just causing a scene.
Later, when she said she'd been blind, his chest felt unbearably tight.
But now, watching her fumble to get dressed, her face burning red, looking like she wished she could crawl into a crack in the floor—
He suddenly realized he had never seen her like this before.
The Song Yunqing of the past would light up at the sight of him, practically throwing herself at him. He'd put on a cold face and she'd still smile. He'd avoid her and she'd still chase after him.
Never like this.
This… embarrassed, this flustered, this much like a normal person.
Zhou Yunji heard himself speak as if possessed: "You sleep."
Xu Anhao was stunned. She looked up at him.
"I'll go back to the dormitory," he said.
Xu Anhao blinked, not quite processing it.
Zhou Yunji didn't say anything more. He turned and walked toward the door.
At the doorway, he paused, turned his face slightly, and said in a low voice:
"That… the bedsheet. We'll deal with it tomorrow."
The door opened, then closed.
His footsteps faded into the distance.
Xu Anhao stood there, dazed for quite a while.
What did that mean?
Deal with the bedsheet tomorrow?
Deal with what?
She glanced down at that patch of red, and her face burned again.
Forget it, forget it. Don't think about it.
The room was filled with the lingering scent of intimacy, the bedsheet still wrinkled. There was no way she was sleeping here.
She braced herself against the wall and slowly shuffled back to her own room.
When she lay down, her whole body still ached, but her mind was in even more of a mess.
Xu Anhao turned over and buried her face in the pillow.
Day one of transmigrating into a book.
She'd inexplicably lost her virtue and been called shameless.