Chapter 2: In three years, she hadn't managed to warm up the heart of Zhou Lin, cold as stone.

The car restarted, and Xu Tian's voice soared with the wind, "Fine, it's rare that you've come to your senses. Don't worry, sister will definitely find you the best lawyer in Yucheng to draw up your divorce agreement, and then find you eight guys with six-pack abs to make you so happy you'll forget all your troubles."

Cheng Zhiwei let Xu Tian drive her back to Sparkling Sky City.

The villa in Sparkling Sky City was the marital home of Cheng Zhiwei and Zhou Lin. They had married three years ago, and since then, Cheng Zhiwei had always lived there, while Zhou Lin was mostly absent.

The villa's design and decoration, the furniture she bought, were all carefully selected by Cheng Zhiwei herself.

Once, she'd dreamed of spending a lifetime there with Zhou Lin. Sadly, even after becoming his wife and wishing earnestly for it, three years had passed, and she still hadn't warmed the stone-cold heart of Zhou Lin.

As she reminisced about the past, she opened the door.

As the door opened, a familiar, coquettish voice came through, "Brother Lin, where's the hairdryer? I can't find it."

Cheng Zhiwei's body stiffened, her knuckles white as she gripped the doorknob. She slowly walked in and looked up to the second floor.

The petite and exquisite woman was draped only in a towel, her fair shoulders and straight, long legs exposed to the air.

Seeing Cheng Zhiwei, Bai Zhuzhu's face revealed not a hint of panic or embarrassment, even deliberately feigning an innocent and unknowing demeanor.

"Sister Zhiwei, you're back."

The man standing up from the sofa was tall and straight, his handsome face like the most perfect work of art. Following Bai Zhuzhu's words, his deep and cold gaze turned towards Cheng Zhiwei.

He paused slightly as his eyes touched upon the gauze on her forehead, frown lines appearing as he strode over.

Her view blocked by shadows, Cheng Zhiwei lowered her gaze and curled her lips in self-mockery. He seemed to be showing concern for his little lover; she had only taken a glance, and he had already hurried over to block her view.

"What happened to your head?" His cold voice lacked any warmth that should have been there from a husband.

Cheng Zhiwei remembered when she found out about Bai Zhuzhu's existence and had driven to see her. At that time, Zhou Lin was with Bai Zhuzhu, and the affectionate tone he used when speaking to her, the tenderness in his eyes, was something Cheng Zhiwei, his legal wife, had never received.

Yes, she was his legal wife, but she could only follow them like a peeping Tom, from afar.

How ridiculous.

"Speak," Zhou Lin's voice grew impatient before Cheng Zhiwei could reply.

She looked up at Zhou Lin, and a sense of aggrievement crawled out from the depths of her heart. Clenching her pale lips, she asked him, "Where were you last night?"

She knew where he had been, but part of her still stubbornly sought an answer.

Zhou Lin clearly disliked being questioned, his expression turned foul, "Where I was is none of your business."

At such cold response, Cheng Zhiwei felt her heart twist, and the question burst forth, "Do you know what happened to me yesterday...?"

"Sister Zhiwei," Bai Zhuzhu's crisp voice cut in. With one hand clutching the precarious towel around her chest and the other reaching for Zhou Lin, she smiled sweetly, "Last night, Brother Lin was celebrating my birthday with me."

Cheng Zhiwei conjured a sarcastic smile. Yes, celebrating a birthday, and after that went straight to rolling in the sheets, which was why he hadn't answered his phone all night.

Forget it.

Cheng Zhiwei felt as if all her strength had been drained, worn to exhaustion.

Since she had already decided on divorce, why bother clinging to such an answer, anyway?

She turned to walk away.

Xu Tian's wrist was seized by Zhou Lin, his brow furrowed as if tied in a dead knot, "Cheng Zhiwei, who are you putting on this deathly act for?"

After all, the two of them had married because they ended up in bed together—in Zhou Lin's mind, their sexual encounter was Cheng Zhiwei's scheme. Even if over these three years Cheng Zhiwei dutifully played the role of his wife, it couldn't change the malice in her bones.

To him, her current wretched state was nothing but a new tactic to deceive him.

But this time she seemed to be playing the part to the hilt, even going so far as to stick a piece of gauze to her forehead with faux concern.

Thinking of his own momentary worry just then, Zhou Lin's gaze instantly became cold and ominous. He raised his hand, intending to yank off that gauze and shatter Cheng Zhiwei's lies.

Cheng Zhiwei instinctively dodged, but failed to notice the cabinet beside her. Her elbow hit it, and the pain from the wound was immediate. She raised her hand abruptly, inadvertently knocking over the blue and white porcelain vase nearby. The vase fell to the ground with a "bang" and shattered into pieces.

"Ah!" Bai Zhuzhu cried out in alarm, hiding behind Zhou Lin, "Sister Zhiwei, that's the blue and white porcelain vase Brother Lin just bought."

Cheng Zhiwei's face turned a shade paler.

With such behavior, Zhou Lin became even more convinced that Cheng Zhiwei had deliberately put on the gauze to feign illness, considering she had done even more disgusting things than this.

His disgust for Cheng Zhiwei grew deeper, and so did his anger. Did Cheng Zhiwei really think he was someone she could fool over and over again?

Driven by his fury, he pressed down on Cheng Zhiwei's shoulders, grabbed the obnoxious piece of gauze, and tore it off.

The wound on Cheng Zhiwei's forehead was the most severe, and the doctor had said it would likely scar. Blood and medicine had already seeped into the gauze, sticking to it. When Zhou Lin yanked it, Cheng Zhiwei felt a searing pain as if her scalp was being torn off.

She let out a wretched scream, and tears immediately began to flow.

Zhou Lin, not expecting Cheng Zhiwei to actually be hurt, was startled, and the gauze in his hand suddenly felt burning hot.

"Ah, how could Sister Zhiwei have such a big wound on her head?" Bai Zhuzhu covered her mouth, crying out in shock, "It won't disfigure her, will it?"

Zhou Lin narrowed his eyes, his words coming out cold and hurtful, "Cheng Zhiwei, you've really grown, haven't you? Now you're using self-harm in your acting."

A woman values her face more than anything else; how could Cheng Zhiwei let her face be injured like this?

The events from three years ago tumbled through his memories, making Zhou Lin feel sick.

The pain from Cheng Zhiwei's wound was nowhere near as intense as the pain in her heart from Zhou Lin stabbing her with his words. She hurt so bad she could hardly speak.

Zhou Lin's brows were etched with cold indifference and impatience.

Cheng Zhiwei paused in her steps, her eyes downcast and lips curled mockingly. Look, he was no different from the man in the hospital who had lost his wife.

As she thought this, she had already reached the door. The color drained from her face at the threshold.

In the otherwise neat and tidy room, everything was now in disarray. The blue duvet on the bed was carelessly thrown aside, at the foot of the bed lay a white dress and pink lingerie, and the same colored underwear was strewn upon the wooden floor at the foot of the bed.

It was suggestive and frivolous.

The skincare products on the dressing table were a total mess, and the room was saturated with the scent of jasmine she loved most, the smell of her favorite shower gel.

Cheng Zhiwei's body swayed, her fingernails digging into her palm. She, his wife, wasn't dead yet, and here was Zhou Lin, brazenly bringing Bai Zhuzhu into their home.

They might have even tumbled in this very bed.

Disgusting.

Utterly disgusting.