She Wants to Divorce Me

Ji Yaoguang’s eyes flew open, startled by the photo frame on the bedside table.

The room’s layout felt both familiar and strange, evoking two trails of tears. Her mind was foggy, recalling only glimpsing her ex-wife Chang Yu embracing a young woman in a bookstore. They seemed joyful. Since divorcing Chang Yu three years ago, Ji Yaoguang had restrained herself from dwelling on memories or seeking news of her—fortunately, Chang Yu had left the entertainment industry, claiming to maintain distance while Ji Yaoguang thrived alone in the spotlight.

Whoever said time heals all wounds was lying. Ji Yaoguang’s greatest regret was signing those divorce papers; she never wanted to part from Chang Yu. Seeing her former love in another’s arms felt like a knife slowly carving out her heart—no torture could be crueler. Shaken by that intimate scene, Ji Yaoguang bought alcohol and retreated to her private villa, intending to drink herself into oblivion. She indeed lost consciousness amidst the bottles rolling on the floor. This was her secret retreat, known only to Chang Yu. Who could have moved her drunken form from the cold floor to the bed?

But this wasn’t her villa—it was their home from three years ago. After the divorce, she had given the house to Chang Yu and left the country with her luggage, returning to China a year later. By then, their divorce had been buried under countless gossip stories; no one could hold public attention indefinitely.

Her malfunctioning brain seemed to lose its ability to think. Ji Yaoguang habitually reached for the small wooden shelf by the nightstand, designed to hold two phones—Chang Yu had crafted it herself. “Chang Yu…” Ji Yaoguang murmured the name, her gaze vacant, a hint of bitterness at her lips. Upon seeing Chang Yu embracing that stranger, her first impulse had been to separate them, but as an ex, she had no right or standing, did she? She could only swallow her emotions alone in a corner. She didn’t even dare show herself to Chang Yu, as the then-rising star had willingly abandoned her promising career to avoid Ji Yaoguang—a testament to the depths of her aversion.

“Chang Yu—” Ji Yaoguang whispered the name again, barely audible even to herself in the empty room.

A notification lit up the previously dark phone screen.

Ji Yaoguang first noticed the date, jolting upright in shock, oblivious to the red mark left as her temple struck the headboard. The phone displayed December 9, 2117—the day she and Chang Yu divorced three years ago! Was the phone malfunctioning? She scrambled out of bed, searching the house to confirm her suspicion. Finally, she found a divorce agreement bearing her signature on the living room table. Ji Yaoguang collapsed onto the sofa, laughing maniacally.

Waking up three years in the past? Was this a dream? She pinched herself hard, tears welling up from the pain, still disbelieving. Three years ago, on the eve of their divorce, she and Chang Yu had another major argument. Or rather, Ji Yaoguang had hysterically shouted while Chang Yu stood with arms crossed, her calm gaze devoid of emotion, as if observing a stranger. In the end, she had coldly stated, “Let’s divorce.” They had been in love for years but married less than one. Hearing those words, Ji Yaoguang had become even more frenzied, yelling at Chang Yu’s retreating back, “Fine, let’s divorce!” She had acted swiftly, canceling all work commitments the next day to prepare the divorce papers, waiting at home for Chang Yu to sign.

Ji Yaoguang wished she could strangle her past self.

Even if this was a dream, she couldn’t let the divorce happen again. If reality held many unattainable regrets, why should pain repeat itself in dreams? She ceased laughing, glaring at the divorce agreement on the table before violently tearing it to shreds and throwing it in the trash.

No matter what, this marriage couldn’t end. Only after experiencing the agony of impulsively pushing away her beloved goddess into another’s arms did she truly understand that pain. Chang Yu had entered the entertainment industry at seven, maintaining a habit for over a decade of returning home before 7 PM regardless of importance. Outside, the cold wind howled. Ji Yaoguang, seated rigidly on the sofa, tugged at her shirt collar, feeling a burning in her throat. The clock showed 6:30 PM—half an hour until Chang Yu’s return.

Her pounding heart felt even more nervous than when she had first confessed to Chang Yu. They had attended the same university, with Chang Yu majoring in performance and honing her acting skills since childhood. Ji Yaoguang was different—she had come to university with dreams of Chinese literature but deviated from her plans, following Chang Yu into the industry based on her looks. She remembered Chang Yu’s initial reluctance, but eventually yielding. Indeed, it hadn’t taken long for her original aspirations to erode, gradually losing sight of her initial purpose.

Nothing was more hateful than slowly losing Chang Yu, as if her very lifeblood drained away with Chang Yu’s departure.

Tick-tock—

The clock’s movement sounded like a lullaby. Ji Yaoguang felt her eyelids growing heavy and quickly pinched herself. At that moment, she heard the faint sound of the door handle turning. Her ears perked up, eyes suddenly bright as if filled with countless stars. She watched the door open, her heart instantly brimming with trepidation, excitement, and longing.

Chang Yu had returned, but behind her stood a man in a suit and gold-rimmed glasses.

Was she really so determined to divorce that she brought a lawyer home? Ji Yaoguang’s eyes widened. She leaned back on the sofa, arms crossed, glaring at the man with anger and hatred. Although he wasn’t truly responsible, Ji Yaoguang couldn’t help but misdirect her anger. Chang Yu appeared the same as always—an exquisite face, eyes calm as still water, exuding an aura of unapproachable coldness. No wonder people online always called her the Ice Goddess. Even as her partner, Ji Yaoguang rarely saw that unburdened, cheerful smile, especially in the past six months. Was she really such a burden?

Chang Yu immediately noticed Ji Yaoguang on the sofa. Her gaze swept coolly over Ji Yaoguang’s beautiful face, still seeing that familiar look—brows and eyes concealing arrogance and imperiousness. When marrying Ji Yaoguang, she had considered many possibilities but never anticipated this situation. People speak of the seven-year itch, but how long had it been for them? The immense work pressure and constant rumors gradually eroded her patience, leaving her mentally and physically exhausted. Ji Yaoguang’s deliberate closeness with various men and women made her feel absurd and ridiculous. If she had stopped Ji Yaoguang from entering this cesspool back in university, would things have been different? Sometimes she still felt resentful. Before turning twenty, she had bid farewell to all her relatives, left with only Ji Yaoguang by her side. But now, even this eternally immature child couldn’t be kept. Rubbing her brow, she felt waves of fatigue washing over her.

“Ji Yaoguang.” The calm tone betrayed no emotion. Hearing these three syllables, Ji Yaoguang’s body stiffened. In her memory, Chang Yu had always addressed her by full name, never using an endearing “Yao Yao” even in their most intimate moments. Not long ago, she had quarreled with Chang Yu over this, feeling it showed a lack of regard. But hadn’t she addressed Chang Yu similarly? No progress made, just unreasonable tantrums—recalling her past behavior, Ji Yaoguang wanted to slap herself.

“Lawyer Zhao, thank you for your trouble.” Seeing Ji Yaoguang’s silence, Chang Yu said no more, her eyes only growing more profound. She nodded slightly to the man, signaling him to take out the prepared documents from his briefcase. Divorce agreement, property division… Each paper printed with lead type laid out on the coffee table felt glaring to Ji Yaoguang. “Take a look. If you have no questions, please sign,” Chang Yu said coldly.

Just writing “Ji Yaoguang” would free them both. Rather than tormenting each other, why not find a path to freedom, giving each other a clean break? Tilting her head back to look at the familiar room, where all the furniture had been chosen together with Ji Yaoguang, who could have imagined they would reach this point?

The cool black pen in hand, Ji Yaoguang jabbed at the paper before her, wishing she could poke a hole through it. Seeing Chang Yu’s indifferent expression, she felt panic rising. She knew Chang Yu was determined to leave this time. Both were excellent actors, skilled at concealing their true feelings. The pen twirled dexterously between her fingers as Ji Yaoguang flashed a flawless smile and said, “I have an objection!”