A thunderbolt struck Yuan Zixu's brain.
Hus-band?
Meaning, he was Xuyu's secretly married sculptor husband?
Then what she'd just said...
Her mind buzzing, Yuan Zixu stood there like a wooden chicken.
It took her a long time to recover. She shook her head to clear her mind.
Something wasn't right.
She clicked her tongue, feeling embarrassed about what she'd said.
If only she hadn't been so quick with her mouth...
Seeing her fall silent, Yi Zhuo walked slowly with Chang Xuyu in his arms. As he passed her, he thought for a moment and said flatly, "I didn't understand what you said just now, but in my nearly thirty years of life, I've only ever cared about Xuyu."
"She must have told you about our divorce," he paused. "I love her, so I respect her wishes."
"I only blame myself for being dull, with a temper and personality she could never like."
His tone was light, but the loneliness was unmistakable.
"Really?"
Yuan Zixu raised an eyebrow, narrowed her eyes, and asked suspiciously.
Had he really not treated Xuyu as a substitute?
Yi Zhuo didn't answer her again.
"I'll tell you more about Xuyu's illness another time."
"Just remember not to let her drink anymore," he tilted his head slightly. "It damages the brain nerves. Her brain and nerves are already very fragile."
***
Yi Zhuo turned back and walked toward the car, but was suddenly blocked.
Jian Jiayue came over with a gloomy face, standing opposite Yi Zhuo. Looking up at the man who was half a head taller, he raised his head and said angrily, "Yi Zhuo, I used to admire you for being a sculptor with famous works and making a name in the art world at such a young age. But I never expected you to stoop to treating someone as a substitute."
A cold light seeped from Yi Zhuo's narrow eyes. He stood there with an indifferent expression, his silhouette like a towering snowy mountain.
He glanced at Jian Jiayue, not bothering to acknowledge him, and prepared to leave.
Jian Jiayue pressed down on the car door, getting straight to the point: "I heard from Xuyu that she wants to divorce you."
"She has no feelings for you. Since you can't be sincere with her, why not let go early?"
Jian Jiayue clenched his fist and demanded loudly.
Yi Zhuo impatiently turned his head, clicking his tongue against his back teeth, his eyes narrowing.
He didn't believe that Chang Xuyu had told this man herself.
The man curled one corner of his mouth and let out a contemptuous laugh.
"What? Are you hoping that after she divorces me, you'll have a chance?"
His disdain, together with the scar on his forehead, made him look fierce rather than friendly.
Jian Jiayue's momentum weakened.
Yi Zhuo freed one hand and knocked away Jian Jiayue's arm that was holding the door.
Jian Jiayue winced in pain and frowned at him.
Yi Zhuo opened the car door, carefully placed Chang Xuyu inside, and closed the door. Then, without hurry, he took out a cigarette from the pack and put it in his mouth.
He raised his eyebrows, lit the cigarette, and looked down at Jian Jiayue through narrowed eyes, slowly blowing out a smoke ring.
Amid the swirling smoke, his voice was low and indifferent:
"Even if she divorces me, she won't end up with someone like you."
The man held the cigarette between his fingers and flicked off the ash.
The ashes scattered on the ground, only to be blown away by the wind in seconds.
Author's note:
Old Yi: ? ヽ(`Д?)? ┻━┻
Xiaoyu (??;)