Thank you very much, Yartizt, for the ko-fi! :blobaww:

In past memories, the first person to bring up the word “divorce” was actually Xi Xianqing.

At the time, after Zhu Ming used his spiritual energy to help Dish Soap fan out its tail by hand, Xi Xianqing threatened him with divorce and forbade him from doing it again. He believed Zhu Ming needed this marriage more then.

At this moment, as if his brain had suddenly crashed, Xi Xianqing stared at Zhu Ming’s face, unable to comprehend a single word coming from his mouth.

Was it because he had been too busy lately?

Or was it because he didn’t accompany him to rehab that day?

“Did you see that news?”

Realizing something, Xi Xianqing took out his phone, intending to show Zhu Ming his chat history with Lu Zhihe. “It’s not what you think, it’s—”

“I know there’s nothing between you two. In fact, you have no obligation to explain anything to me.”

Zhu Ming shook his head, his tone calm yet firm as he interrupted him. “I just realized that I don’t want to keep deceiving my aunt under this agreement.”

“Let’s part on good terms, okay?” he asked.

Xi Xianqing’s mind was in chaos. He stared at Zhu Ming’s face and instinctively blurted out, “…No.”

Zhu Ming quietly looked at him.

He knew Xi Xianqing too well—or rather, Xi Xianqing was simply too easy to understand. So, meeting his gaze, Zhu Ming only asked softly, “Why?”

As expected, Xi Xianqing froze.

He clearly hadn’t expected Zhu Ming to ask him that, nor had he thought through the answer.

“Because bringing up divorce so suddenly is very irresponsible.”

Breathing became heavy as Xi Xianqing struggled to maintain his composure while facing off against Zhu Ming. Nearly speaking in a panic, he said, “For example, my illness—you haven’t cured me yet. That’s your responsibility, and besides…”

He was still trying to bind Zhu Ming with the word “responsibility,” but this time, Zhu Ming simply shook his head. “I’ve already found the cure for you.”

Xi Xianqing: “But—”

“Yes, you want to say that the cure’s effects are unstable. But we both know that it’s just a matter of dosage.”

Zhu Ming looked at him and said softly, “You only need enough psychological, emotional, and physiological fluctuations to temporarily regain your ability to fan out your tail. That is the cure. That is the answer.”

“But Xi Xianqing, these things—this emotional value—shouldn’t be something you ask a doctor for. They should come from a partner.”

Zhu Ming looked at his face and shook his head. “This vague and ambiguous method of treatment—should that really be a doctor’s duty? I don’t think so.”

His words were too blunt, yet they hit the nail on the head.

Xi Xianqing froze as if something had hit him, his chest heaving violently.

Zhu Ming knew that this was the moment.

He lowered his eyes, reached for the end of the table, and took out a prepared folder, extracting two thin sheets of paper.

The instant Xi Xianqing saw the contents of the papers, his pupils trembled violently. He stared at Zhu Ming’s profile in disbelief.

Zhu Ming: “Sign it. We—”

Before he could finish, his voice was abruptly cut off in pain as Xi Xianqing suddenly grabbed his wrist. The thin sheets slipped from his grasp, fluttering weightlessly in the air, drifting to the ground like the snow falling outside the pavilion.

“So this marriage was nothing more than a performance for your aunt, was it?”

Xi Xianqing couldn’t control the tremor in his voice. His gaze darkened as he stared at Zhu Ming’s face, gritting his teeth. “Zhu Ming, all this time, have you really not felt even a little—”

Zhu Ming’s wrist ached from his grip, and he staggered back a step.

His legs had only recently recovered, and just standing through this conversation was already exhausting. He had forced himself to hold on until now, purely to bring this agreement to a dignified end.

The earlier exchange had drained all his strength. The moment Xi Xianqing suddenly grabbed his wrist, Zhu Ming lost his balance entirely, stumbling backward and falling back into the wheelchair behind him.

Only then did a crack finally appear in his expression.

Zhu Ming closed his eyes briefly, adjusted his breathing, and when he opened them again, his face had returned to calm. “What else could it have been?”

“To me, this was always a mutual agreement, not a marriage,” he said.

Xi Xianqing said nothing.

Those beautiful eyes, as flawless as the finest jade, had already flickered through confusion, shock, and anger. Now, Zhu Ming watched as they settled completely into a cold, lifeless stillness.

The snow was falling heavier. The chill slowly crept up Zhu Ming’s fingertips.

“Of course, failing to find the root cause of your illness was my negligence.”

After a long silence, Zhu Ming’s lips moved slightly. “As compensation, I’m willing to return the lab pod to you, or reimburse you—”

“No need.” He heard Xi Xianqing interrupt indifferently. “Keep it.”

At last, Xi Xianqing let go of Zhu Ming’s wrist, straightened up, and took a few cold steps back.

Zhu Ming suddenly felt completely drained. He averted his gaze, forcing a weak curve to his lips. ”Alright.”

Xi Xianqing continued staring at Zhu Ming’s face, as if trying to see through him. Word by word, he said, “But the ring, give it back to me.”

Zhu Ming’s body trembled slightly.

Only after a long time did he softly say, “Yes.”

This wedding ring, inlaid with a small blue diamond—though hastily modified by Xi Xianqing at the time—had never once been taken off by either of them since the agreement began.

Zhu Ming lowered his head, curling his fingers as he slowly tugged the ring toward his fingertip bit by bit.

Having worn it for so long, the band was slightly stuck at his knuckle, making it difficult to remove. He applied more force, and only then did the ring begin to loosen slightly.

Xi Xianqing watched his every move with a calm gaze.

Just as the small ring was about to slip past Zhu Ming’s fingertip, Xi Xianqing suddenly said in a hoarse voice, “…Enough.”

Zhu Ming’s hand slightly stalled.

His Adam’s apple moved, and Xi Xianqing turned his face away as if unable to bear the sight any longer. “It was just a meaningless prop from the start. I don’t need it, and I don’t care about it.”

The finely cut, delicate diamond pressed into his palm, but Zhu Ming remained silent.

Xi Xianqing finally bent down, picked up the scattered divorce papers from the ground.

He swiftly scrawled his signature. Then, without hesitation, he tossed both the papers and pen in front of Zhu Ming before turning around, heading straight for the garden exit without looking back.

As they passed each other, Zhu Ming spoke softly, “Tomorrow morning at ten—see you at the Civil Affairs Bureau.”

Xi Xianqing’s footsteps seemed to falter.

He stood in the heavy snow, nearly swallowed by the thick darkness of the night. He neither spoke nor turned back. After a long pause, he lifted his foot again and walked toward the villa’s interior.

The snowfall in District Seven lasted an entire week.

It was soon followed by a massive blizzard of the highest severity, shutting down numerous roads and prompting universities to announce temporary suspension of classes. Most residents were stranded at home.

Amid this dull, drowsy snow season, a shocking piece of news suddenly exploded across the trending lists—media reports stated that Xi Xianqing, grandson of the District Six representative and likely his successor, had officially announced his divorce from his District Seven partner, whom he had married in a flash wedding less than a year ago.

Unsurprisingly, the news sparked heated discussions among netizens.

“Did I lose my memory? Weren’t they still passionately kissing at Old Master Xi’s birthday banquet not long ago? I even saved the GIF (because these two are just too stunning together). How could this happen so suddenly?”

“I knew from the start that this marriage wouldn’t last… People from District Six and District Seven are from completely different worlds. Maybe love could keep things sweet for a while before marriage, but after tying the knot, differences in three views and personality would become unbearable. Neither side would want to compromise.”

“I heard some insider gossip ah. Apparently, Zhu Ming missed the District Seven Chief selection back then due to his car accident, and he wasn’t happy about Xi Xianqing creating works for the current Chief. That caused growing tension between them, eventually leading to the divorce…”

No one knew why they divorced so abruptly, just as no one had known how they fell in love or how they had so hastily entered into marriage

This trending topic dominated the internet for an entire week. But as the blizzard subsided and the weather in District Seven gradually warmed, the news faded from public attention.

Inside the darkened bedroom in District Six, Xi Xianqing was lying on the bed.

On the day they went to the Civil Affairs Bureau to finalize the divorce, neither of them was late.

Zhu Ming had looked calm, so Xi Xianqing had controlled his own expression as well, trying to appear even more composed and indifferent toward their marriage than him.

Both of them were so tense that they didn’t even say a complete sentence. So on the surface, although they hadn’t parted on particularly good terms, they at least didn’t make too much of a mess.

But Xi Xianqing was far from as calm as he appeared on the surface.

Shock, confusion, anger—these chaotic emotions filled his chest. After returning home and staring at that small divorce certificate, all these tangled feelings mixed together violently, ultimately blending into an endless void.

A void so profound that it left Xi Xianqing disoriented.

Why did it feel like something was gripping his heart so tightly that breathing became difficult, as if even his blood had stopped flowing?

In the dimly lit room, Xi Xianqing closed his weary eyes. His thoughts drifted back to that afternoon when he had been summoned to the mansion and reprimanded by Xi Jianfeng.

At the time, the evidence had been overwhelming, leaving no room for rebuttal.

—Xi Xianqing’s past medical records in District Seven, Zhu Ming’s research and consultation topics, the confession from Li Shun, the manager of the District Two resort, and even the recorded conversations from the District Four game.

Even though they had been walking on thin ice, treading cautiously at every step, in the eyes of those who were watching closely, their actions had still been full of flaws.

“Do you have any idea how many eyes are on you?”

Xi Jianfeng spoke in a cold, severe voice. “Do you know how much of an impact it would have had on your assessment and your future if I hadn’t stopped Xi Hongming from leaking this information to the media?”

Xi Xianqing didn’t say anything.

“I know you’ve always held yourself to extreme standards, never willing to reveal even the slightest flaw in front of others.”

Xi Jianfeng exhaled sharply. “But, Xianqing, presenting a so-called perfect image by hiding your flaws through lies and deception—manipulating your entire life and love just to secure this position—is this really what you want?!”

“But Grandfather, if I didn’t use lies to hide them,” Xi Xianqing finally spoke after a long silence, “then perhaps from the very beginning, I wouldn’t have even had the chance to compete for this position.”

It was rare for him to speak so bluntly. Xi Jianfeng slammed the table in fury. “So you still stubbornly believe you did nothing wrong, is that it?!”

The jade bowl filled with fish food tipped over, and the room fell into absolute silence. The only sound was the tiny pellets scattering and rolling across the floor. Xi Xianqing stood straight, but he remained silent.

“I know that over the years, Xi Hongming has always been looking for your weaknesses. Things haven’t been easy for you two.”

After a long pause, Xi Jianfeng closed his eyes and let out a sigh. “Precisely because of this—your talent, along with the debt I owe you and Mufei… I have always intended to cultivate you for this position.”

“But above all, you must first be yourself. And your partner should be someone who shares a common language with you, someone who can support you, someone you truly love.”

He opened his eyes and locked his gaze onto Xi Xianqing’s. “Not someone whose life path is completely different from yours, whom you entangle with for your own gain. That doesn’t just hurt you—it misleads them too.”

Xi Xianqing’s chest rose and fell in silence.

“You disappoint me too much, Xianqing.”

With exhaustion in his voice, Xi Jianfeng turned his back to him and rubbed his temples. “If you still want to compete for the position of representative, then before this assessment ends, divorce that child from District Seven as soon as possible.”

Xi Xianqing’s body suddenly shook.

His mind was in chaos, and his reason told Xi Xianqing: You have worked for this position for so many years. The only thing you need to do now is obey every word Xi Jianfeng says.

But as if possessed by something beyond his control, he looked at Xi Jianfeng’s back, his lips trembling, and blurted out, “Zhu Ming and I, it’s not just because of the agreement that…”

Xi Jianfeng frowned and looked back at him, “What?”

Xi Xianqing opened his mouth but couldn’t make a sound.

Because he himself didn’t know the answer.

If it wasn’t just because of the marriage agreement, then what was it?

They had indeed come this far because they each had something to gain. Every kiss, every moment of intimacy with Zhu Ming had always been under the guise of medication. Their relationship was so ambiguous that even Xi Xianqing himself had no definitive answer.

Xi Jianfeng studied his face closely, as if he had seen through something. “What exactly do you feel for that child?”

Xi Xianqing’s mind was blank. “I… don’t know.”

“Have you truly looked into your own heart?”

Xi Jianfeng didn’t give him time to think. Instead, he pressed further. “And that child—does he feel the same for you?”

Seeing Xi Xianqing stand there in a daze, Xi Jianfeng remained silent for a long time before finally shaking his head with a sigh.

“I won’t punish you. I’ll continue allowing you and Xi Sen to access my network and resources so that you can gradually understand what this position truly entails.”

Xi Jianfeng waved a weary hand, as if too exhausted to continue. “But I also want you to reflect on the meaning of this marriage. Because in my eyes, it was a transaction, an agreement—perhaps even a weakness others could exploit against you. But it was never a real marriage.”

“And this isn’t just for yourself—it’s also for that child from District Seven.”

With another sigh, he said, “Xianqing, you need to learn to face your own heart.”

At that time, Xi Xianqing’s thoughts were tangled and chaotic. His instinct was to avoid thinking about it.

Because keeping things in the realm of a patient-doctor dynamic with Zhu Ming, where they simply took and administered medicine, was within his comfort zone. Maintaining it as such seemed perfectly fine to him. He had no desire to decipher the emotions that were neither clear nor well-defined.

It just occurred to him that he might need some more time and might be able to figure out his relationship with Zhu Ming.

What he didn’t expect was that Zhu Ming didn’t give him the time and opportunity to think.

Zhu Ming was far smarter than him, far calmer, and far more aware of the value and meaning of their marriage. Back when he had agreed to the marriage, it had been without hesitation—just as now, when he was ending it, he did so with equal decisiveness.

On that snowy night of the birthday banquet, the moment Zhu Ming uttered the words “divorce,” Xi Xianqing felt that all the struggles and hesitations he had gone through in recent times were utterly ridiculous. At the same time, he also found Zhu Ming to be unbelievably indifferent and selfish.

If Zhu Ming didn’t care about this marriage, then neither did he.

The divorce certificate was carelessly thrown into a desk drawer, the birthday gift that had never been delivered was tossed into a corner, and all the books and personal belongings Zhu Ming had left behind were sent straight to storage.

Anything related to Zhu Ming—Xi Xianqing ruthlessly and efficiently erased from his life.

But he suddenly felt very empty.

Even with the house full of servants, even with Xi Mufei and Ye Lu constantly watching him with worried and concerned eyes, the home still felt empty. The bedroom felt empty. Everywhere felt empty.

Empty to the point of suffocating silence. Empty to the point of not being able to calm down, where only his own heartbeat pounded so loudly in his ears that he couldn’t sleep.

It was as if something in his heart had been abruptly hollowed out.

On Tuesday, as scheduled, Yang Jiahe came to visit Xi Xianqing.

She naturally also saw the news of their divorce. But unlike the netizens who made baseless speculations flooding the internet, she had actually spoken with the two of them over the phone in District Four just a short while ago—which made the sudden change all the more shocking to her.

Back then, she had thought their interactions were relaxed and harmonious, sometimes even tinged with playful banter. Yet, in the span of just a month, things had completely turned to this scene.

And the moment she laid eyes on Xi Xianqing, her heart clenched with alarm. “You… are you okay?”

Xi Xianqing had always been meticulous about his appearance, especially when meeting with outsiders—he took great care with his attire and demeanor.

But at this moment, the young man sitting in the center of the studio had the collar of his shirt loosely open, messy strands of hair falling over his brows, his face pale. Deep in his eyes, exhaustion and fatigue were impossible to hide.

The green peac0ck curled up lifelessly under the desk, its head drooping listlessly, and its long, beautiful tail feathers sprawled limply on the floor.

Yang Jiahe understood her student’s temperament and chose to change the subject proactively. “Let me take a look at your first draft.”

After a long silence, she heard Xi Xianqing say, “…There is no first draft.”

Yang Jiahe didn’t react, “What?”

Only then did she notice that although Xi Xianqing was holding a pen, all the scattered papers in front of him were completely blank.

“Teacher Yang.” She saw the young man before her lift his eyes to her, looking dazed, perhaps even a little lost. His voice was hoarse as he said, “I… I think I can’t draw anything anymore.”

Author’s Notes:

The great peac0ck tasting the bitterness of love for the first time—learn to face your own heart 🙂