"This is the divorce agreement drafted by the lawyer I hired."
Qin Nan took out a document from the chair beside him and handed it to her: "The house goes to you. We have 100,000 yuan left in savings, which we'll split equally. I'll pay off your debts. Look it over and see if there's anything to add—we can discuss it."
Ye Sibei didn't move.
Her gaze shifted from the agreement to the checkered pattern on the tablecloth.
They had bought this tablecloth at a discount store one month after their wedding. She remembered she had liked the blue checks while Qin Nan preferred the gray ones. When he asked her choice, she said gray, but in the end, he bought this blue one.
Seeing her refusal to take the agreement, Qin Nan placed it by the table.
"I'll move out tonight. You can look at it later."
Ye Sibei remained silent.
After a moment's thought, Qin Nan spoke again, unusually verbose: "Anything else to say?"
It felt like he was asking for her last words.
For a fleeting moment, she found it absurdly comical, but the humor dissipated instantly, replaced by a mix of humiliation, fear, unease, and a faint trace of sorrow.
She didn’t know how a normal person should react in this situation. After a long pause, she finally asked, "Why?"
Then she looked up at him: "Are you seeing someone else?"
"No."
Qin Nan's voice was low.
"Then why can’t we make it work? Why divorce?"
Qin Nan didn’t answer. Ye Sibei, her expression calm, instinctively said, "If I’ve done something wrong, I’ll change. I know I’ve let you down—"
"Enough."
Qin Nan cut her off, his voice hoarse. He stood up, grabbing his car keys and phone from the table. "Let’s leave it at that."
With those words, he walked toward the door.
Just as his hand touched the doorknob, Ye Sibei suddenly spoke.
"I won’t agree to divorce."
Qin Nan turned back to see her still seated in the same spot, her posture unchanged, her face expressionless.
"If we were going to divorce, why get married in the first place?"
"I don’t know what I did wrong." She stared blankly ahead.
"I shouldn’t have lent money to Nian Wen. I’ll pay it back myself—that was my mistake, and I’m sorry. But no matter what, we’re married." The woman’s tone remained steady, weary and unruffled. After a pause, it finally wavered slightly. "I can’t get divorced."
Qin Nan said nothing. He seemed to consider saying more but pressed his lips together and swallowed the words, settling on: "Do you think saying sorry fixes everything?"
"That’s not what I meant—"
"Go find Ye Nianwen. Get the money back."
The air froze. Ye Sibei looked at Qin Nan, who was staring at her from the doorway, and suddenly felt a pang of misery.
"He’s getting married."
"You can’t do it."
They spoke simultaneously, making her words sound even more pitiful.
She fell silent, feeling utterly exposed under his gaze. She turned her face away, lowering her eyes.
In truth, Qin Nan was both right and wrong. She didn’t believe apologies could fix everything. She apologized because she knew there was nothing else she could do.
She was stuck in a quagmire, and her "sorry" was nothing more than a plea for passersby to spit on her.This realization made her feel somewhat uncomfortable, and Qin Nan seemed to sense that he shouldn’t have said those words.
"You shouldn’t live like this," Qin Nan murmured, his voice low. "I won’t come again after this. Take care of yourself."
With that, he turned the doorknob. A gust of cold wind rushed in as he pushed the door open, stepped out, and closed it behind him.
Once the door shut, Ye Sibei sat at the table, slowly lifting her gaze to the blank white wall across from her.
The wall was bare, devoid of anything. Just last week—before her argument with Qin Nan—she had considered buying a painting to hang there.
But she had quickly dismissed the idea, chiding herself for wasting money.
She was always preoccupied with trivial matters like these—how much a decoration would cost, which tablecloth was the most economical, how to maximize discount coupons…
She hardly had the capacity to care about anything else.
She wasn’t particularly smart or capable, didn’t earn much, and the only aspects of her life she could control were these small things.
Oh, and one more thing—no matter what, she had to make it to work on time.
Thinking of tomorrow, she took a deep breath, lifted her head, tucked her phone into her pocket, and stood up to clear the table as if nothing had happened.
For once, she skipped washing up and simply collapsed onto the bed, spreading her arms and lying flat on her back.
She left the light on, staring at the fluorescent bulb until she slowly closed her eyes and drifted into sleep.
In a daze, she dreamed of high school. It was Monday’s flag-raising ceremony, and she stood by the podium, listening as the principal called her name.
"Now, let’s welcome Ye Sibei from Class 7, Grade 1, to deliver the Monday speech."
In the dream, her heart raced, and her palms sweated as she clutched her speech draft.
She jogged up to the stage, her bright eyes sweeping over the students below. A small swell of pride filled her chest, and she instinctively lifted her chin slightly. "Hello everyone, I’m Ye Sibei from Class 7, Grade 1. Today, my speech is titled 'The Best is Always Yet to Come'..."
She actually wanted to hear what she had said.
But for some reason, the girl on the podium began speaking softer and softer.
Then, she started hearing the sound of water, as if she had been placed inside a coffin. Cold water poured in from both sides, slowly filling the space. The air she breathed was stolen away one breath at a time, leaving her lungs burning with suffocation.
Instinct for survival made her struggle desperately, trying to swim toward the surface.
Vaguely, she saw a figure standing on the shore—a man in a black overcoat, holding a transparent umbrella, standing there somewhat indistinctly.
He gazed at her through the water’s surface. She waved frantically at him, but he seemed unable to understand.
Finally, he spoke to her.
"You shouldn’t live like this, Ye Sibei."
At that moment, she jolted awake.
Her phone alarm chimed softly beside her. She sat in bed for a while, catching her breath before finally coming to her senses.
Mechanically, she got up and went to the sink, splashing icy water onto her face.
The sensation of cold water hitting her skin overlapped with the feeling of being submerged in her dream. In that instant, she suddenly remembered that high school speech.
She raised her eyes to meet her reflection in the mirror—dull eyes, a slightly haggard face.
She stared quietly at her twenty-seven-year-old self for a long time before lowering her head and scrubbing her face fiercely.
This time, she felt a little more awake.She washed up, prepared breakfast, changed into her work clothes, and took the keys she needed for the day from the bedside drawer.
Then, the moment she pulled the drawer open, she saw it scattered with condoms.
Purple packaging with silver-white stripes—an uncommon design on the market.
Countless words flashed through her mind in an instant.
"The victim was a young woman..."
"I won’t be coming anymore. Take care of yourself."
"Carrying condoms with you not only prevents disease and reduces harm but also increases your chances of survival."
Ye Sibei stared at the condoms in the drawer, thought for a moment, and eventually took two, slipping them into her bag.
As usual, she threw on her coat and stepped out into the still-blue morning.
When she arrived at the office, there weren’t many people around—just the cleaning lady. She sat at her desk, carelessly placing her half-zipped bag by the edge before turning on her computer.
The cleaning lady moved closer, head down as she mopped the floor. When she reached Ye Sibei’s desk, the mop clanked against something, and the bag tumbled to the ground.
"Oh, I’m so sorry!"
The contents spilled everywhere. The cleaning lady immediately bent to pick them up, and Ye Sibei, snapping out of her daze, quickly crouched down to help. "It’s fine, I’ve got it."
Just as she spoke, she noticed the cleaning lady freeze at the sight of the two condoms that had fallen out. Ye Sibei pretended not to notice and swiftly gathered them up. The cleaning lady cleared her throat, stood, and said, "Xiao Ye, you can handle the rest. Sorry about that."
Ye Sibei knew why the cleaning lady had stood up so abruptly. She nodded awkwardly, not daring to meet her eyes.
She meticulously packed everything back into her bag. By the time she returned to her seat, other colleagues had begun trickling in.
Life carried on as if nothing had changed. Qin Nan’s request for a divorce seemed to have left little impact.
She worked as usual.
She still did the ridiculous morning exercises on the street, clapping along with her colleagues under the strange gazes of passersby, shouting encouraging slogans at the top of her lungs.
She still attended the dull morning meetings, watching everyone flatter and compete to speak up.
She still fetched takeout, poured coffee, and worked. Before 4 p.m., Sister Wang from the next desk came over as always: "Sibei, I’m so sorry, but I have to pick up my kid. My apologies."
It all seemed the same.
The only difference was that she felt increasingly numb to emotions.
For instance, the moment Sister Wang asked her to cover her shift used to be the most irritating part of her day. But today, for some reason, she felt nothing at all.
It was as if all her capacity for joy and sorrow had been stripped away. The sense of detachment she felt in her dreams—like being submerged in water—lingered into reality.
She even wished for more work, anything to minimize the time she had to think.
She mechanically processed tasks in front of her computer until the city lights flickered on. Suddenly, she heard an urgent voice call out, "Who’s still in the office?"
Ye Sibei recognized it as the voice of Fan Jiancheng, the store manager.
It wasn’t even 6 p.m., so not many had left yet. Ye Sibei looked up and scanned the room.
Most of the sales team was still there, while only she and Tao Jie remained from the finance department.
Fan Jiancheng glanced around, spotting Zhao Chuchu and Chen Xiaoyang from sales. Relieved, he said, "Xiaoyang, Chuchu, good—you’re still here."With that, he raised his hand and clapped in the air to grab everyone's attention before raising his voice: "Everyone, drop whatever you're doing right now. Clean up and come out with me for dinner. No one is allowed to skip—anyone who does won't need to come to work tomorrow."
His tone was serious, and everyone sensed something major was happening.
"Brother Fan," Zhao Chuchu, who was on good terms with Fan Jiancheng, raised her hand to ask, "Where are we going?"
"The deputy general manager of Wanfu Real Estate suddenly has some free time and agreed to have dinner with us. This is a big deal—if we land this contract, everyone gets a bonus."
Hearing this, Chen Xiaoyang immediately whistled, and Zhao Chuchu laughed.
Ye Sibei understood the situation as soon as she heard "Wanfu Real Estate."
Real estate agencies had two main sources of income: selling second-hand properties and partnering with new developments to earn commissions.
High-quality new developments usually had their own client base and sold easily. Securing a partnership with a premium new project was a huge opportunity for agencies like theirs.
Wanfu Real Estate's upcoming development, "Tianlu," had an unbeatable location and excellent school districts, touted as the best property launch in Nancheng in three years. Multiple agencies were vying for this deal, and Fuqiang had long had its eyes on this lucrative prize. The deputy GM's sudden agreement to a dinner meeting tonight was the best possible signal.
If they secured this deal, following Fuqiang Real Estate's policy, everyone present would receive a substantial bonus.
Money was a great motivator.
Excitement spread through the group, and Zhao Chuchu opened her small bag to touch up her makeup.
She was carrying a green leather clutch today—a color so unique she rarely used it.
Seeing her prepare for battle, Ye Sibei knew there was no avoiding it and could only remind their star player: "Remember to bring stomach medicine. And let Nianwen know."
"Forget it."
Zhao Chuchu rolled her eyes. "If I tell Ye Nianwen, he'll just nag about how girls shouldn't go drinking. But this is my job—if I don't drink, how do I make a living? If Brother Fan fires me, I can't exactly expect Nianwen to support me."
As she spoke, she finished applying lipstick and picked up an eyebrow pencil to fill in her brows. "Housing prices are insane right now. Without our parents' help, neither of us could afford a place. After buying, his salary barely covers the mortgage. Then there's renovation, daily expenses, a car, kids—everything costs money."
"Your brother is great in every way, except he doesn't understand real-world struggles."
Here, Zhao Chuchu seemed to remember Ye Sibei's relation to him and glanced up. "Don't you dare tell Ye Nianwen I'm going drinking. If he throws a fit, I won't be able to calm him down."
Ye Sibei listened quietly, watching her future sister-in-law skillfully shape her brows with the pencil, filling them in perfectly.
Once done, Zhao Chuchu turned, her young, beautiful face radiant with energy.
She framed her face with her hands in a "flower blooming" gesture and asked coquettishly, "Sister Ye, am I pretty?"
"Very."
Ye Sibei answered earnestly.
Gazing into the other woman's eyes, she suddenly felt an overwhelming envy—so intense it bordered on jealousy.
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