Chapter Nine: Disappointment

The missed calls and messages were all from Lin Yuxin. In her texts, she urged Hong Chen to come home, saying she had something to discuss with him and would wait no matter how late he returned.

Hong Chen thought it over and decided to go back. Since they were to divorce, he felt it best to make things clear face-to-face as soon as possible.

By the time he arrived home, it was nearly eleven. The living room was shrouded in darkness, except for a narrow sliver of light seeping through the deepest room’s door, left slightly ajar.

He tiptoed across the floor and gently pushed the door open.

The lamp atop the bedside table cast a warm glow. Lin Yuxin sat reading on the bed, her legs tucked beneath a down quilt. Her delicate sleepwear traced the graceful lines of her upper body; even without makeup, her beauty was flawless from every angle. She looked up with clear, bright eyes as she heard him enter, and Hong Chen found himself momentarily startled.

Her eyes were slightly swollen, the corners tinged red—clear signs she had been crying, and not just a little. Otherwise, there would have been no trace left. Hong Chen knew well her temperament: stubborn yet composed, with superb emotional control—not the type to be overly fragile or sentimental. Otherwise, she could never have managed a company of more than thirty employees in the unforgiving business world, with no backing, steering it from losses to over a million in annual profit within two years.

What had happened?

Just as Hong Chen’s mind formed this question, Lin Yuxin parted her lips, her voice soft: “You haven’t come home for three nights in a row. If I hadn’t messaged you, would you have stayed out again tonight?”

He replied offhandedly, “A few days ago, your sister messaged me: ‘If I’m here, she won’t be.’”

Lin Yuxin’s brows knit gently. “I told you, I’ve already explained on your behalf—it’s a misunderstanding. Yu Fei’s still a student; do you really intend to hold a grudge against her?”

She sniffed, waved her hand dismissively, “You smell like cooking oil. Go shower first.”

Feeling slighted, Hong Chen lifted his shirt’s edge to sniff it—she was right, the odor was strong. He smiled helplessly, fetched a robe from the drawer, and went into the bathroom.

Twenty minutes later, he returned, hair still damp, wearing the robe. Lin Yuxin had emerged from under the quilt, now sitting on the bed’s edge, feet touching the floor, poised and waiting for him—a portrait of elegant beauty.

Hong Chen stole a few glances, sighing inwardly. To have a wife so stunning, right within reach, yet only able to look and never touch—what torment and sorrow for a husband!

“Go ahead, what’s the matter?” He made himself comfortable, sat up, placed a pillow behind his back, and leaned lazily against the wall.

Lin Yuxin gazed at him, her eyes tinged with a faint complexity. She pressed her lips together, her voice calm as water: “I promised I’d explain why I went to the Liu family as Chen Feiyang’s girlfriend.”

“My second uncle returned to Grandma’s around six; both sides of his face were swollen. He said the Liu family didn’t even give him a chance to speak, and simply beat him. Apparently, the Liu family’s grandson is seriously ill, which has thrown the entire Lin family into panic. No one cared about airing family shame; everyone called around for help, but all our contacts refused, each with their own excuse. None would act as mediator.”

She paused, then continued, “In the end, I reached Chen Feiyang, who agreed, but on one condition: I had to pretend to be his girlfriend when visiting the Liu family, so he’d have a reason to speak on behalf of the Lin family. At the time, whether for the Lin family or for you, I had no other choice.”

Hong Chen was no fool; he’d suspected there might be more to the story. Hearing now that she had only pretended to be a girlfriend, he felt a measure of relief, but still asked, “Why didn’t you tell me when I picked you up outside the villa? There were no Liu family members there.”

Lin Yuxin’s expression dimmed. She spoke softly, “That was part of the agreement with Chen Feiyang—until we left the Liu family, neither you nor anyone from Liu’s side could know the truth.”

Hong Chen’s brow twitched. He pursued the matter: “So, as you say, once you left the Liu home, the agreement was over. Then why didn’t you get in the car and leave with me? I made it clear the Liu family issue was settled. In that situation, as my wife, how could you choose to stand with another man instead of your own husband? Any man would find that unacceptable. If the roles were reversed, would you?”

His tone was stiff, bordering on interrogation. Lin Yuxin felt as if she were a criminal accused of a terrible mistake. The pressure inside her burst forth; her voice rose sharply, but quickly dropped to a cold, restrained murmur, remembering it was late at night: “Why choose him over you? You know why. Chen Feiyang’s Porsche was vandalized, and all you did was watch the spectacle, never once observing his reaction. He was on the verge of exploding—he’d offended the Liu family, and had to swallow his anger. Yet you poured oil on the fire. Don’t think I don’t know your motive: because Chen Feiyang insulted you, you wanted to retaliate, to wound his pride as he wounded yours. But did you consider that if I had gotten in your car, stripping Chen Feiyang of all dignity, what consequences might have followed? Could we bear the fallout?”

She paused, her voice now commanding: “Hong Chen, the world doesn’t operate as you wish. Caprice requires a foundation. Do you have it?”

“I don’t?” Facing her cold, lofty gaze, Hong Chen’s lips curled into a faint smile. He spoke slowly, “Let me tell you: I was the one who had the Liu family smash his Porsche.”

Lin Yuxin froze, as if turned to stone.

Ten seconds passed before she asked, “Why would the Liu family do such a thing for you?”

“Master Liu has diabetes. I gave him a prescription in exchange.”

“And the Liu family lent you their car for the same reason?”

“More or less.”

“Then, the Liu grandson’s illness—it wasn’t you who cured him, was it?”

“I cured him.”

Hong Chen’s face was utterly calm, but Lin Yuxin saw only arrogance, her eyes flashing with disgust.

Between a lack of ambition and weakness, she despised a boastful, self-important man even more.

“After you left, the Liu family’s daughter said she was upset and took it out on Chen Feiyang’s car. She was supposed to pay for it, but he refused compensation, so they settled with a Mercedes. It was Liu’s daughter who was capricious, yet you claim she acted on your orders. I even asked why she lent you the car—she said it was being scrapped soon and you offered to help, saving her trouble. The Liu daughter wouldn’t even let me inside, and warned me: if Lin’s two pharmacies didn’t transfer ownership within three working days, she’d come to settle accounts. If you had cured the Liu grandson, why was her attitude so hostile?”

She tore apart his lies with her usual logic, leaving him no room to rebut. Her verdict was final: “Hong Chen, I always thought you were just a bit spineless, but at least honest. Now you’re learning to be deceitful. I’m utterly disappointed in you.”

Hong Chen was utterly bewildered. Once, he was useless and Lin Yuxin was disappointed. Now, he was no longer a failure, dared to act and speak, but instead of changing her opinion, she was more disappointed than ever.

Women... truly unfathomable creatures.

He wanted to defend himself, but seeing the word “disgust” written plainly across her face, and the icy, judge-like gaze she cast after a final verdict, he felt exhausted and shook his head.

Perhaps divorce was best.

He had previously wanted divorce because of Lin Yuxin’s supposed betrayal. Now that misunderstanding was cleared, he wanted divorce out of disappointment.

She was disappointed in him; he, too, was disappointed in her. What he once saw as admirable—her stubbornness, her independence—now, as stubbornness turned to obstinacy and independence to subjective bias, felt unreasonable.

Two people, mutually disappointed, keeping a marriage alive—wasn’t it mutual torment?

Even if they kept to the three-year contract, perhaps they could adjust—maybe live apart, avoid each other, and wait for the term to end before formalizing the divorce...

As his thoughts turned, Lin Yuxin exhaled softly, “It’s late. I’ll sleep after I finish what I need to say.”

Hong Chen looked at her, waiting for her to continue. She considered her words, then spoke: “After you went to the Liu family, Grandma insisted we divorce. She also announced that whoever secured the most cooperation deals with Hongcheng Group within the month, totaling over thirty million, would be rewarded with ten percent of the Lin Corporation’s shares. Before calling Chen Feiyang, I proposed to Grandma: if I achieved this, I wanted no Lin Corporation shares, but twenty percent of Linfeng Commerce instead. With my current thirty-five percent, I’d become the largest shareholder, holding fifty-five percent. At the same time, the divorce issue, which concerns my reputation, would not be discussed within the month.”

Hong Chen considered this and understood: “You want to free yourself from Lin family’s control financially?”

Lin Yuxin nodded, her face resolute: “If I lose, Grandma will demand our divorce again. Without financial independence, I have no leverage, no way to resist. Don’t worry, I’ll ask Grandma to compensate you. If I win, no one in the Lin family can force me anymore. Then you’ll have two choices: first, end the marriage early—I’ll give you a breakup fee, enough to sustain your current lifestyle for five years. Second, keep things as they are until the three-year contract expires.”

Hong Chen was slightly taken aback, then smiled. If she lost, there was nothing to say. If she won, he’d have two options: a generous breakup fee to end things a year early, or maintain the status quo. Lin Yuxin’s true intentions were clear.

For once, their minds were in harmony.

“All right, I’ll help you.”

Two years of marriage, over seven hundred nights, and as always, sharing a room with little affection but at least a bond of companionship. One more month mattered little. He’d help her fulfill this wish, and let it be the closing chapter of their marriage.

“You’ll help me.” Lin Yuxin’s lips curved, tinged with mockery—whether self-directed or toward him, it was hard to say. She murmured, “Thank you.”