Chapter 43: There Really Is Something Wrong With You

After finishing her words, Lin Wanbai felt utterly exhausted. Earlier, she had taken a cigarette from the security guard in the security room and smoked it in the stairwell. During the time it took to finish that cigarette, she pondered deeply, and the words she just spoke were conceived in those fleeting minutes. When she finished, she lingered alone for a while, only returning upstairs once the smell of smoke had dissipated.

“I’ve said all I needed to say. I’ll head back now,” Lin Wanbai said, offering him a faint smile before turning to leave.

Fu Ju Xing remained silent, watching her enter the room, not uttering a single word.

Her smile lasted only until the door closed behind her. She had made up her mind: if he agreed, then divorce it would be. She would not wrong herself, nor force herself into madness.

Leaning against the door, tears finally spilled down her cheeks. Speaking those words, the pain was hers alone—there was nothing more agonizing than this heartbreak. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself, but the tears would not stop, her body trembling uncontrollably. It felt as though she truly was saying farewell to him, never to cross paths again.

But really, it was nothing. In this world, who can’t live without another? She could, too. She had many people who cared for and loved her. Fu Ju Xing was just one person—not worth much. If divorce was to come, so be it; the most beautiful three years had already passed.

Han Chen returned home to find two empty bottles of red wine at the door. He frowned, noticing empty bottles scattered all the way inside. Eventually, he found someone in the bathroom.

She was lying on the floor, fast asleep. The bathroom was filled with a foul odor. Han Chen frowned, went over, and pulled her up. She was thoroughly drunk. He carried her into the bedroom and considered calling Yang Ruyue, but remembering Fu Ju Xing was next door, he decided against it, not wanting to arouse suspicion.

He fetched a warm towel to wipe Lin Wanbai’s face and hands. She was completely unconscious, with no reaction. Her hand lay soft and cool in his palm, and he couldn’t help but squeeze it tightly, only to release it quickly as his heart raced. He glanced at her, seeing no response, and gingerly held her hand again, warming it between his palms.

Slowly, his warmth brought color back to her hand. Sitting beside the bed, he watched her face, lost in thought. He envisioned a scene: he kissed her, and she happily accepted. A faint smile touched his lips, but he quickly shook himself awake, released her hand, and stepped away, his lips pressed tightly as he turned his back and stopped looking at her. He breathed heavily, as if after a fierce battle, gripping the towel tightly. After a moment, he glanced back—just once—then hurriedly withdrew his gaze and left the room.

He washed his face with cold water in the bathroom, slowly raising his gaze to the mirror. Desire was clear in his eyes, raw and undisguised. He swallowed, his heart pounding violently. Glancing at the razor in the storage box, he took the blade and, without hesitation, cut his palm.

That brought him clarity.

Lin Wanbai slept until the next afternoon. Upon waking, her whole body felt uncomfortable, her forehead aching as if it would split. She lay quietly for a while, then the door opened and Han Chen peeked in, “Finally awake. Any later and I’d have called emergency services.”

“What time is it?” she asked.

“Four o’clock,” Han Chen emphasized, “the next day.”

“I slept that long?”

“Yes, you finished all the wine in the fridge yesterday.”

She struggled to rise and rubbed her forehead. “It was only a few bottles, not much.”

“What happened yesterday afternoon that made you drink so much?”

“Nothing happened. I was just bored and wanted to get drunk.”

Han Chen smiled, not pressing further. He knew, without asking, that it must be related to the neighbor; only that person could sway her emotions. “I made hangover soup. Should I bring it in, or do you want to come out?”

“I’ll come out.”

“Do you need anything else?”

“No.”

“Then I’ll leave you be.”

“Mm.”

Lin Wanbai sat in a daze for a while before finally getting up to shower. Afterward, she felt refreshed, though her head still hurt. The hangover soup on the dining table was at just the right temperature; she drank it all in one go and felt much better.

Han Chen prepared a light dinner, worried that overeating would upset her stomach. But Lin Wanbai had good self-control. Though she was hungry, she ate slowly and did not overindulge.

After the meal, she stood by the window for a while, enjoyed some fruit, and went to the study. Yesterday, she had sent an email before going to drink, and now exactly twenty-four hours had passed.

Yet Fu Ju Xing had not responded.

Lin Wanbai propped her chin with one hand and held her phone in the other. There was no movement on Fu Ju Xing’s messaging app. At that moment, someone mentioned her in the charity association group. She checked—it was the president warning her to handle her private affairs, as there would be a charity gala at year’s end and he didn’t want her issues to affect the event.

The charity association meant a lot to her, so she carefully wrote a sincere apology and promised to resolve her personal matters before the end of the year.

Still, Fu Ju Xing made no move, and she did not take the initiative to ask. Life went on as usual, as if nothing had changed. Yet Lin Wanbai seemed truly resolved this time, and her interactions with Han Chen became more free.

She even brought Han Chen and Lin Jingyu to dinner together, openly, at a hotel. To outsiders, it was not just a meal—it was practically an introduction to the family, and rumors spread that Lin Wanbai and Fu Ju Xing were preparing for divorce, some even saying it was already done.

But the truth was, it was simply a meal, with no special significance.

Lin Jingyu observed Han Chen carefully and thought he was indeed a handsome young man, with a temperament somewhat similar to Fu Ju Xing’s, though more sunny.

Han Chen was a bit reserved, but also generous, not petty.

There was no alcohol at the table tonight; Lin Wanbai forbade it, and Lin Jingyu complied.

The meal was pleasant, lasting over two hours, with much conversation. Han Chen went to pay the bill, leaving mother and daughter alone in the private room.

Lin Jingyu wiped her mouth, took out lipstick and a small mirror to touch up her makeup, and said, “This young man is sensible; perhaps he’ll achieve something in the future. But his temperament may not be ideal for romance.”

“Why worry? He’s not your son-in-law,” Lin Wanbai said, sipping water.

“I just don’t want you acting impulsively again, so I’m reminding you.”

“Don’t worry.”

Lin Jingyu finished her lipstick, packed her things, moved closer, and sat beside her. “What’s the situation now?”

“What situation?”

“You and Fu Ju Xing—like this, and he still hasn’t reacted?”

“Just divorce,” she replied calmly.

Lin Jingyu raised her brows and stared at her for some time, surprised to find she was serious. “So, are you really serious, or just pretending?”

Lin Wanbai turned sideways, resting her head on her hand, smiling at her mother. “What do you think?”

“You’re becoming harder to read. But whatever happens, I support your choices. As long as you’re happy, that’s what matters most. If you really divorce him this time, I hope your next marriage is with someone good in every way, someone who loves and cherishes you, understand?”

Lin Jingyu spoke earnestly, touching her head and pinching her chin. “Love pursued with reckless abandon can be painful if it’s all one-sided. I understand you well. The elders blame me for indulging you, but I know—some things you have to experience for yourself, or you’ll never be content. Only after hitting the wall will you turn back.”

Lin Wanbai watched her mother’s unusually serious expression. Lin Jingyu was rarely like this; most of the time, she acted like an open-minded mother, conversing as a friend, analyzing and advising.

Mother and daughter, like close confidantes.

“Mom, can I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.”

“Do you still feel the same about Dad as before?”

Lin Jingyu anticipated the question; she knew it must have been on her daughter’s mind for a long time. She patted her hand, lowered her eyes, smiling gently. “In the end, we’re not the same. You’re better and stronger than me. If I said nothing had changed, you wouldn’t believe it. For a woman, a man’s betrayal is like the sky falling—utter devastation.”

“Then why not divorce Dad?”

“Divorce?” She laughed. “That word doesn't exist in my dictionary. The vows made at marriage were not just empty words. In my dictionary, there’s no divorce, only widowhood.”

“I could let him die, but I would never divorce him.”

Lin Wanbai was stunned. She had never imagined her gentle mother harbored such thoughts.

She patted her chest and joked, “It’s a miracle Dad is still alive.”

Lin Jingyu laughed, “Naturally.”

Then she reverted to her usual kind demeanor, “But you don’t need to be like me. You have no children yet; you’re still free. If things become unbearable, just get a divorce. There’s nothing terrible about it. You still have us. For you, divorce is just an extra certificate. But after hitting the wall once, don’t let there be a second time. Learn and grow, understand?”

“I understand.”

“And you know, this young man really is decent. He knows we’re talking inside and has the sense not to come in.”

Lin Wanbai raised her brows, “Of course. My taste has always been sharp.”

They tidied up and left. Han Chen was waiting by the door. As soon as it opened, he turned around as if he’d just come back, “Just finished paying.”

Lin Jingyu smiled, patting his shoulder, “You’re a fine young man.”

He smiled shyly, a bit embarrassed.

Lin Wanbai and Han Chen accompanied Lin Jingyu to the hotel entrance, watched her get into the car, then returned to the hotel. Lin Wanbai had booked a room—a unique sky suite on the top floor she'd long wanted to try, and tonight it was available.

When they reached the room, Han Chen opened the door, about to enter, when Fu Ju Xing appeared suddenly. He grabbed Lin Wanbai’s hand, looked deeply at her, and then dragged her away.

Han Chen instinctively reached to pull her back, gripping her wrist tightly, trying to pull her to his side.

Fu Ju Xing shot him a cold look, “Let go.”

His tone carried warning, and barely contained anger.

“That depends on whether she wants to go with you,” Han Chen retorted, tightening his grip.

Fu Ju Xing did not repeat himself, but threw a punch. It landed on Han Chen’s face—not full force, as Han Chen dodged, but a glancing blow still hurt. Fu Ju Xing’s punch was powerful.

Lin Wanbai remembered how the top performer Ye Run’s face had been ruined by such force.

Han Chen couldn’t withstand it; blood filled his mouth, and his teeth felt loosened. He crashed into the wall but still didn’t release Lin Wanbai’s hand.

Fu Ju Xing moved to strike again, but Lin Wanbai pulled him back, blocking him and grasping his wrist, “It’s fine. I’ll talk to him and come right back.”

Han Chen frowned, looking at her deeply before slowly loosening his hold. He shot Fu Ju Xing a cold glance, then spoke gently to Lin Wanbai, “I’ll wait for you.”

Before she could reply, Fu Ju Xing dragged her away.

His grip was strong, nearly dislocating her wrist. She struggled, “Let go, it hurts.”

He released her only once they were in the elevator.

Inside, it was just the two of them. He didn’t press a floor, and the doors closed without moving.

Lin Wanbai stood at the back, rubbing her wrist and eyeing him, lips pressed together, “What a coincidence, you’re here too.”

“It’s no coincidence. I came to find you,” he replied coldly, not turning to face her.

She licked her lips, “Really? To discuss divorce? I’ve handed the matter to the lawyer; you should be notified soon, haven’t you?”

He finally turned, his gaze deep and intense, emotions tightly held.

Lin Wanbai met his eyes, her back pressed against the wall, the corners of her mouth barely lifting, “I know it’s my fault, so I won’t—”

Before she could finish, he slammed his fist beside her ear, the impact echoing loudly.

She merely blinked; his eyes now burned with anger.

His voice was cold, every word hard-edged, “Is this fair to me?”

Her smile vanished. She simply looked at him, saying nothing.

After a long silence, he closed his eyes, seemingly fighting for control. When he opened them again, he gently placed a hand on her shoulder, “I’ll pretend you never said any of this.”

“Why? I’ve decided. The divorce agreement I gave you is fair, isn’t it?”

Her chest tightened, breath held, gaze unwavering, resolute and cold—her determination clear. “If you only want to talk about this, I think there’s no need. It’s not good for either of us. You just hit Han Chen, which upset me. I won’t say more; I should go back or he’ll worry.”

That he appeared here at all surprised Lin Wanbai; a strange joy bubbled inside her, almost making her smile. But it wasn’t enough—she wanted more, wanted nothing but his abundant love.

As she passed him, Fu Ju Xing pulled her back, pinning her against the elevator wall, giving her no chance to resist, and bit her lips.

She struggled, fought back.

He bit harder, holding her hands against the wall, her whole body immobilized.

He was angry, unable to contain his emotions—almost wild.

His kiss hurt, but Lin Wanbai’s heart felt sweet, as if tasting the world’s finest honey, all her clouds dissipating to reveal radiant sunshine.

She softened, no longer resisting.

His kiss deepened, passion unleashed.

After some time, he finally regained control, still holding her hand, his gaze lowered to her face. Their breaths were ragged; Lin Wanbai’s lips were swollen, his urgency leaving bruises.

She licked her lips, stinging.

“I won’t divorce, nor cover up. From today, if you dare stray again, I’ll ‘pluck you down and put you in a vase.’ Lin Wanbai, I forbid you from any ambiguous behavior with any man.”

Her mind was a blur; she lowered her eyes, silent, her ears slowly turning red.

He pinched her chin, forcing her to look at him.

“Did you hear me?” he said.

Lin Wanbai pressed her lips, her eyes shimmering with emotion.

Fu Ju Xing struggled to control himself, frowning, anxious, “Speak.”

She frowned, pulling his hand away, complaining, “Not gentle at all.”

Her expression turned shy, a far cry from the cold determination she had shown earlier.

Fu Ju Xing relaxed slightly, “Should I start over?”

She pushed him lightly, “Dream on, there are cameras here.”

He moved closer, cupping her face, kissing her again, heedless of anything.

…

Han Chen didn’t wait for Lin Wanbai’s return; instead, Yang Ruyue arrived.

She stood at the door with a medical kit, and upon seeing her, Han Chen knew the outcome. Disappointment welled up inside him. He left the door open, sat back on the sofa.

Yang Ruyue approached, saying, “Miss Lin has returned home. She asked me to treat your injury. Also,” she pulled a slip of paper from her pocket, “this is your parents’ current address. Miss Lin said she can help restore your family, even improve it, laying a solid foundation for your future.”

Han Chen glanced at it; his mouth had been aching since the blow, even drinking water was painful.

This was her generosity, still so magnanimous.

He shook his head, handing the paper back, “I don’t need it. I think things are fine now. When they ran away, they didn’t think of me, so I don’t need to think of them either. Being alone is freedom. Tell Miss Lin I appreciate her kindness—she’s done more than enough. Any more, and I’d never be able to repay her.”

Yang Ruyue said, “Miss Lin doesn’t require special thanks, only that you remember.”

“I’ll never forget.”

She smiled, saying no more.

…

Lin Wanbai and Fu Ju Xing returned to Lanshe. As soon as they entered, it was as if boundless energy surged through them—from the doorway to the living room, and all the way upstairs.

It was as though pent-up emotions had finally ignited.

When all was done, the night was deep.

Lin Wanbai was exhausted, though her mind remained clear. She pretended to be asleep, sprawled on him, unmoving.

After a long while, Fu Ju Xing gently settled her and went to shower.

She squinted, stealing a glance, suppressing the urge to rush to him, then closed her eyes again.

She stayed awake all night, only dozing briefly at dawn. But when Fu Ju Xing got up, she woke with him.

She didn’t let him notice, merely rolling over and feigning sleep.

She had to keep calm.

Lin Wanbai stayed in bed until eight, then rose. She had a guzheng lesson at nine. She showered before going downstairs.

Fu Ju Xing had made breakfast and was reading the newspaper in the living room.

Seeing her, he was surprised, “Up so early?”

“Oh, I have a guzheng class soon.”

“The teacher could come here.”

“No, I like the classroom—it’s elegantly designed. At home, it doesn’t feel right.”

“All right, I’ll go with you.”

“Aren’t you busy?”

He looked at her, “I don’t trust leaving you alone.”

“What, are you going to take me everywhere now?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “Starting tomorrow, come to work at the company with me.”

She started to protest, but he gave her no chance, “It’s settled.”

He walked to the kitchen, Lin Wanbai hurried after, “What will I do at the company?”

“Secretary.”

“Don’t you already have one?”

“Special secretary.”

Lin Wanbai raised her brows, standing at the kitchen door, watching him with a secret smile.

He turned, and she quickly masked her expression, meeting his gaze with a straight face, “Can I refuse?”

“What do you think?”

“I can.”

“We’ll see tomorrow,” he smirked, passing her.

After breakfast, Fu Ju Xing personally drove her to class. Her lesson was at Shui Xie.

The teacher wore a cheongsam, a classical beauty, somewhat aged.

It was Lin Wanbai’s first lesson—basic techniques, feeling the strings.

She was diligent, focusing despite Fu Ju Xing watching from nearby.

At the end, with extra time, the teacher played a piece.

Lin Wanbai and Fu Ju Xing sat together, drinking tea, the scenery and people blending in refined harmony.

Her goal was clear: one day, to sit here with Fu Ju Xing, playing the guzheng for him all day long—nothing could be more carefree.

After lunch, Fu Ju Xing accompanied her to buy a guzheng. The whole day, he stayed by her side, not even allowing her a moment alone, as if afraid she might run away.

It was a day spent together.

That evening, he took her back to yesterday’s hotel, to the sky suite.

Even their dinner was in the same private room she had used with Lin Jingyu, seemingly deliberate—perhaps wanting her to explain, or say something.

But Lin Wanbai said nothing, calmly finishing her meal and following him to the room she had booked.

She praised it, “It really is unique, feels like floating in the air. Thankfully the weather’s cool, otherwise this room would be hot.”

All glass ceiling, and the wall behind the bed was fully transparent tempered glass, the bed perched on a jutting platform—anyone with a fear of heights would struggle to sleep here.

Lin Wanbai was somewhat afraid herself, not daring to approach.

Fu Ju Xing simply lifted her up and carried her onto the glass floor.

She instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck, “Afraid of heights, but still want to experience it?”

“Why not?”

“How many times with Han Chen?”

He abruptly changed the subject.

Lin Wanbai paused, almost blurted out “None.”

He watched her, eyes deep—so this matter wasn’t settled.

They stared at each other for a long time. Lin Wanbai turned away, wanting to get down, but he wouldn’t allow it. For the first time, she realized how forceful he could be; no matter how she struggled, she couldn’t escape his grasp.

Eventually, she stopped fighting, “Let go.”

“Answer me.”

She pressed her lips, “Put me down, I'll tell you.”

But he wouldn’t compromise, “Say it.”

She considered lying, but realized there was no need, so she retorted, “None, not even once.”

His lips twitched, “The mouth—how many times kissed?”

She was exasperated, “Didn’t you say you didn’t care? Last time I kissed him, you seemed totally unconcerned.”

He didn’t reply, only repeated, “How many times?”

She stared back for a long time, then leaned in, whispering, “Fu Ju Xing, you’re really sick.”

Sick? Yes, and seriously so.

Lin Wanbai finally got what she wanted.

Late at night, she opened her eyes, propped herself up, quietly watching Fu Ju Xing, as if she could never get enough.

She thought, indeed, she would be ensnared by him for life.

She leaned in, kissed his lips, and softly whispered in his ear.