Chapter 22: Do You Want a Divorce? Part 1

Ming Li’s eyes were a deep, obsidian black, shimmering with a dark intensity.

In contrast, Gu Qingshuang’s irises leaned toward a lighter brown. Combined with her habitually indifferent expression, she often gave off an air of cold detachment, as if she were a person of thin emotions and little loyalty.

Ming Li stared at her without moving. The room was exceptionally quiet—so quiet she could hear the faint, scratching sound of the wind brushing against the windowpane.

The longer the silence stretched, the further Ming Li’s heart sank. She even began to regret her boldness. She and Gu Qingshuang weren’t close enough to ask such pointed questions. Asking only served to increase her own distress.

But now that the question was out there, the lack of an answer was even more infuriating. She wanted to retreat, but a voice inside her clamored with resentment.

By what right was she the one lying beside Gu Qingshuang every night, yet she didn’t even have the standing to ask where Gu Qingshuang had been?

A war raged in her mind, growing more violent by the second, leaving her utterly exhausted. Finally, after a long, grueling standoff, she decided to let herself go. She looked down, smoothed out the creases in Gu Qingshuang’s coat that she was still holding, and turned toward the bathroom.

Gu Qingshuang, who hadn’t moved an inch, suddenly caught her arm. Her voice was low and heavy. “An old friend.”

It was an explanation.

Under normal circumstances, hearing such an explanation from her would have been enough. At the very least, it wasn’t a warning like “What does it matter to you?” or “Ming Li, you’re overstepping.”

But Ming Li was in a foul mood. The blurry scene from earlier at Yuxing Pavilion suddenly became vivid in her mind—the sight of an excited and happy Shen Lideng running toward a car. That car belonged to Gu Qingshuang. It was a low-profile, somber black, but it shimmered brilliantly even in the dark because of its specialized pearlescent finish. In all of Jing’an City, there likely wasn’t a second one like it.

It was a custom-built supreme model made specifically for Gu Qingshuang.

That was why it had looked so familiar.

Thinking back, why had Gu Qingshuang come back early and “coincidentally” gone to Yuxing Pavilion? It certainly wasn’t for her. Gu Qingshuang hadn’t even known she was there.

Ming Li felt that asking the question at all had been an act of self-humiliation.

Physically and mentally drained, she couldn’t bring herself to act as if nothing were wrong. She brushed past Gu Qingshuang with a cold face, giving a faint, detached reply: “Oh.”

She went into the bathroom, threw the coat into the laundry hamper, and stood there for a moment to compose herself. With another person in the room, her living space felt cramped. She took a shower, lingering under the water, unwilling to come out.

Only when her skin began to prune did she reluctantly wrap herself in a bathrobe and step out.

Gu Qingshuang was sitting on the chair in front of the vanity, looking like a cold, heartless statue. It was impossible to tell what she was thinking.

Ming Li sat on the sofa, drying her hair. She didn’t urge Gu Qingshuang to shower as she usually did; she acted as if she were still alone. She played with her phone for a while and sent a message to Ming Xi to check on their mother.

Ming Xi replied almost instantly: [She’s doing great! She ate two bowls of rice tonight.]

Ming Li noticed the time was already 11:40 PM. The fact that a growing child was staying up late made her annoyed enough to fire off two stickers.

[Ming Li: Double Punch.jpg]

[Ming Li: No staying up late.jpg]

Ming Xi responded with a photo—a mock college entrance exam math paper, specifically the third sub-question of the final problem.

Ming Xi was someone who loved to take shortcuts; if she could calculate something in her head, she wouldn’t touch a pen. But now, the scratch paper next to the exam was covered in dense formulas, while the answer space on the paper remained blank.

[Ming Xi: Sis, I’ve tried deriving this several times, but I can’t get it.]

[Ming Li: …]

Her sister was being so studious that Ming Li felt like her nagging about sleep was hindering her progress. But more importantly…

[Ming Xi: Help me take a look.]

[Ming Li: …?]

[Ming Xi: What’s wrong?]

[Ming Li: What makes you think that after being out of school for so many years, I can still solve the final sub-question of the last problem on a mock exam?]

[Ming Xi: …]

Ming Xi’s speechless frustration practically filled the screen.

Ming Li felt helpless. Her math grades had been decent in the past, but “decent” meant scoring around 130—which was already impressive. However, she had been a humanities student.

Now, Ming Xi and her peers didn’t have the humanities/sciences split; the new “3+3” curriculum meant the math papers were much harder. Ming Xi’s talent for logic and numbers was clearly higher than hers. In Ming Li’s day, people basically gave up on the final sub-question of the last problem.

Ming Xi, however, was the type to keep grinding.

Ming Li wanted to tell her to forget it, but she didn’t want to dampen the girl’s spirits. [How about you wait until you go to school and ask your teacher?]

[Ming Xi: I can’t sleep if I don’t figure it out.]

[Ming Li: …]

She had underestimated Ming Xi’s stubbornness. Feeling useless across the screen, Ming Li asked: [Isn’t the answer online?]

[Ming Xi: This mock paper was specifically commissioned by our Dean from some big shot. It’s purely original. There’s no way to find the answers.]

[Ming Li: …Then what?]

[Ming Xi: I can do it. I’ll definitely get it. You go to sleep.]

With that, Ming Xi sent a “goodnight” sticker and went back to the grind.

Ming Li wasn’t sleepy anyway. She thought she might as well try the problem to see if she could at least help her sister organize her thoughts. She pulled out her iPad and started copying the question.

Once she finished, she tapped the screen with her Pencil for two minutes, staring at the first sub-question in a daze. Which formula was I supposed to use again?

She had overestimated her memory. After all these years, she really had returned everything she learned to her teachers. Unable to help, Ming Li sighed and messaged Ming Xi telling her not to push herself too hard.

[Ming Xi: OK!!]

Even through the screen, Ming Li could feel the “I won’t sleep until this is solved” energy.

As Ming Li sat there in melancholy, a voice suddenly drifted from above her. “Let me try?”

Ming Li looked up and met Gu Qingshuang’s eyes—clear, cold, and indifferent, yet carrying an unidentifiable emotion. Her eyes seemed to speak, weaving together something lingering and distant… it was too complex for Ming Li to summarize.

Yet she couldn’t look away.

Ming Li froze for a moment. Gu Qingshuang sat down beside her and asked softly, “Ming Xi’s homework?”

“Yeah.” Ming Li shifted slightly to the other side, putting some distance between them. She could still smell the peppery top note of that perfume on Gu Qingshuang.