Chapter 9: Discussing Divorce.
Yanxin Times was a multinational conglomerate with limited domestic operations. While it was not a household name among the general public, it owned a subsidiary—Taiheng Group—that was an established legacy enterprise in the capital.
Years of dominant market presence had led to a complex network of nepotism within Taiheng, filling its ranks entirely with insiders. The chaotic web of relationships among top executives gave rise to non-stop behind-the-scenes dealings, creating a headache for Yanxin Times’ leadership for years. However, given the century-long development of the family enterprise, attempting a clean sweep meant offending every single executive. In fact, the intricate web of connections would cause any reformer to fall at the very first step, leaving them without a single inch of foothold in the capital.
It was entirely a matter of life and death.
Over the years, various new leaders had been transferred to Taiheng Group—relatives of the Pu family, external hires, and countless bosses rotated inside and out—yet all ended in failure.
In 2011, Pu Huaiyan returned to Beijing from the United States. In his second month after stepping in as President of Yanxin Times, he established a new company, and by the third month, he reached his hand into Taiheng Group—a place as treacherous as a black hole.
He replaced the executive tier, forcefully inserting all the high-level managers he had brought back from the United States into Taiheng.
When the original staff threw a massive fit, he halted the operations of all Taiheng projects and had the newly launched subsidiary under Yanxin Times take over every single one of Taiheng’s projects.
Panicked, the executives caused even bigger scenes, frequently appearing in the news. Relevant authorities summoned Yanxin Times’ top management six times within three months, and Yanxin Times’ stock price fluctuated wildly over those months. News even broke that all headquarters executives were planning to resign, severely disrupting stock market conditions for a time.
However, for a company abandoned by its parent entity, even if ongoing projects were running, it could not go far. External partners were no fools, so without projects, holding onto vast shares and stubbornly refusing to leave was useless. Ultimately, all Taiheng executives compromised one after another.
Once the procedures for the new executives entering Taiheng were finalized, Taiheng Group was immediately renamed Yuanshi. The internal rules and order underwent a complete reshuffle from that moment on, leaving behind not a single trace of its former self. From then on, across the vast capital, the old Taiheng Group—which countless talents once subconsciously included in their job application options—ceased to exist. All that remained was the brand-new Yuanshi Group under Yanxin Times Group.
Shan Dai found herself flipping through the magazine unawares.
In his interview with the reporter, Pu Huaiyan did not boast at length about this major overhaul, stating only in concise terms: “It was merely a normal internal transfer within the group.”
Furthermore, he explained why Taiheng Group was renamed Yuanshi. The reporter asked if the character shi (时 – time/era) carried any special significance related to the shi in Yanxin Times.
Pu Huaiyan: “If I must explain, yuan (元) stands for Year One, a new starting point. As for shi, it means forever Year One, perpetually adhering to the original intention of this year’s reform, maintaining conviction until ultimately becoming another ‘era’ like Yanxin Times.”
Reporter: “A truly perfect meaning! Is there another explanation as well?”
Pu Huaiyan: “I drew lots for it alongside the executive in the US who assisted me with this work. Since it was a turnover of generations, the characters were selected from historical Chinese dynasties. He drew the character yuan, and I was too lazy to think, so I combined it with the shi from shídài (时代 – era/times). He had no objections, so we just settled on it.”
The reporter burst into laughter.
The corners of Shan Dai’s lips curved up uncontrollably as well, recalling his occasional humorous remarks during the dinner.
The reporter asked: “Which executive in the US was assisting President Pu?”
“Pu Huaixin.”
The reporter thought for a moment and said: “I recall this President Pu returned in 2007, joined Taiheng, and left again shortly after?”
Pu Huaiyan: “Unprepared, so he had no choice but to head back.”
Reporter: “Did you learn from past lessons and, with the assistance of the former President Pu, return fully prepared with a strategy specifically targeting Taiheng Group?”
“Mm.”
The reporter asked a sharp question: “Then is there any possibility of you returning to the United States?”
Pu Huaiyan: “If I can’t keep going, I’ll go back. If I can work, I’ll work.”
The reporter couldn’t help but laugh.
The subsequent content covered his future arrangements and plans for Yanxin Times, domestic and overseas strategies, and his views on the capital’s market.
His tone was composed and low-key; when making jokes, he only poked fun at his own company without passing judgment on any other enterprise.
The reporter described him as a giant net, yet completely airtight.
She couldn’t help but ask him a key question: why return to the country to handle a hot potato like Taiheng Group?
He said: “Because I was bored.”
After laughing, the reporter pressed again: “Looking forward to President Pu providing an inspiring answer to motivate the younger generation in the industry.”
Pu Huaiyan elaborated with total seriousness: “Around that time, a sudden wildfire broke out in Los Angeles and couldn’t be put out for a long time. The air quality was terrible, so I came back. Compared to challenging the limits of nature, Taiheng was merely a minor internal leak.”
Reporter: “…”
On the final page, there was a paragraph of fine print at the very bottom. The editor-in-chief had invited him to dinner after the interview and casually asked why he had agreed to the exclusive interview, noting that inviting him had been much easier than expected.
He said that the group had generated a lot of news that year, so once things wrapped up, he wanted to offer the public an explanation.
The editor-in-chief noted that in her twenty-year interview career, this was an ever-fresh answer—so mundane it resembled the changing of the four seasons, natural yet possessed of a powerful order. Or rather, throughout the entire interview, every single one of his answers broke free from her expectations.
…
In mid-May, Lu Zhixing concluded his three-month business trip at Yanxin Times headquarters and was preparing to return to Jiangnan.
The night before he returned home, Shan Dai received a call from him. Lu Zhixing said he had just finished a department dinner. His tone was brimming with happiness, expressing how much he missed his wife in every way, but Shan Dai remained distant throughout.
He picked up on the anomaly again. Over the past period, her tone during their occasional phone calls had been somewhat different from before, and when he probed carefully, she simply claimed she was exhausted from work.
“Dai Dai, has work always been this exhausting?” he asked with heartache.
Shan Dai was even more exhausted tonight and didn’t want to exhaust her energy putting up a front. Perhaps it was because he would land in Lan City tomorrow, where everything would be ripped open, meaning there would be no need for concealment tomorrow.
“Dai Dai, what’s wrong? Are you sick? How about I take you for a checkup after I get back tomorrow? Don’t work yourself sick.”
His tone sounded truly anxious.
In her rented apartment, Shan Dai leaned against the balcony overlooking the river view, her mind filled with every single moment of their post-marriage life. Even the scenes from their school days felt vivid, beautiful, and close at hand.
“Dai Dai??” Unable to hear her voice, Lu Zhixing grew even more frantically anxious. “What’s wrong? Mm? What happened? Are you listening? How about I change my flight and head back right now?”
“Lu Zhixing,” Shan Dai whispered.
“I’m here, I’m here. Are you feeling unwell?”
“Once you’re back, will you be going back there again?”
“I won’t go back, who would want to go on a business trip where they can’t see their wife for months,” he joked. “Next time there’s such an inhumane arrangement, I’m refusing it—definitely refusing it. Don’t worry, Dai Dai, you’ve been wronged these past few months.”
Shan Dai couldn’t hear any of his sweet talk or thoughtful comfort, saying only what she needed to say: “Then now that you’re back, what about the person over there?” The moment the words left her mouth, she couldn’t help but curl her lips, unable to stop a bitter smile at the irony.
“What?” Not quite understanding, his inquiry came through the phone.
“The person on your end—your… PR Department Manager.”
The entire world seemed to fall silent in that instant. Aside from an exceptionally noticeable, deep gasp drifting over the phone line, everything went completely silent afterward, as if the connection had been cut.
Shan Dai hung up the phone.
In a flash, Lu Zhixing, snapping out of it, dialed back. Shan Dai raised her head to look up at the starry sky, ignoring it.
Lu Zhixing persevered, calling once, twice, six times in a row. Shan Dai blinked, gathered her composure, and only then tapped to accept the call.
“Dai Dai.” The man’s voice was both pleasantly surprised and raspy, yet completely devoid of his earlier high spirits. In just a brief moment, he sounded like a patient suffering from several nights of insomnia, utterly haggard. “Dai Dai, you… how did you…”
“How did I what? How did I find out? Or what do I plan to do, or what?” Shan Dai asked with absolute calm.
She had rehearsed these scenes and phrasing thousands of times in her mind, thoroughly familiar with them.
“Dai Dai,” Lu Zhixing said with intense nervousness and urgency. “No, did you misunderstand something? Did someone say something to you at the company that caused a misunderstanding? Is that it? Dai Dai, there’s nothing going on, really, none of those messy affairs.”
His denial was a possibility Shan Dai had also envisioned. However, she would have preferred him to confess directly; that way, he would owe her less, and she wouldn’t be hurt time and time again.
Deceit was a character trait she felt shouldn’t exist in Lu Zhixing.
She spoke slowly: “Nothing going on? Then when I merely mentioned a single position, you knew exactly what I was referring to. Lu Zhixing, is this matter of yours known across the entire company? Do you know that someone would see it and tell me something?”
“Dai Dai!! I swear, there’s nothing, really nothing,” Lu Zhixing’s voice grew louder, wishing he could swear an oath to her on the spot. “It was just playing along on social occasions, others misunderstood! I didn’t do anything to betray you, Dai Dai! Others misunderstood, which led you to misunderstand as well—I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
Shan Dai closed her eyes, “Do you think I’ll believe that? In your heart, am I so hopelessly stupid?”
“Dai Dai…”
“I’ve prepared the divorce agreement, along with the emails of you talking sweet nothings.”
The world fell quiet once more, a dead silence resembling the end of days.
Shan Dai did not hang up, taking the rare initiative to speak: “Think it over carefully tonight, Lu Zhixing. More than being sorry to me, you’re sorry to yourself.”
“Dai Dai,” his voice choked up in an instant. “Don’t be like this, don’t be like this… I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I was wrong, please don’t be like this.”
“Then how should I be?”
“I…”
“Should I continue acting like our love is rock-solid? Unwavering and true? Should I also act as if I have amnesia, firmly believing that the person I love most loves me most too? Then go pray for time to turn back, otherwise I can’t put on the act—it makes me sick to death.”
“Dai Dai, Dai Dai, I’m sorry, I swear I’ll cut off all contact with everyone else, I swear!” His voice was filled with pleading. “I’m sorry, it’s my fault, I’ll make amends, Dai Dai.”
He admitted it—completely admitted it. Shan Dai couldn’t tell whether her heart felt a sense of relief or if it had grown so numb with pain that she felt nothing.
“The person you’re sorry to is the self from back then who stood firm against your family. You’re sorry to the self who was almost kicked out of the house that year. You’re sorry to the self who ended a business trip early to come back and donate blood for my family member, ending up exhausted with your work in shambles. And you’re sorry to my foolish innocence in believing from beginning to end that Lu Zhixing would always be good.”
“Dai Dai…” His voice was so hoarse it was beyond recognition. “I was wrong, I swear, it won’t happen ever again.”
Shan Dai hung up the phone.
This time when he called back, no matter how many times he dialed—once, ten times, twenty times—she did not answer again.
The next day was the weekend, and the company was off.
In the afternoon, Shan Dai specially took a taxi from her rented apartment to their marital home, waiting for Lu Zhixing, who rushed home in a panic at three in the afternoon.
The moment he entered, he noticed the house looked different. Although Shan Dai had only packed away her own clothes and personal items, leaving the living room area largely untouched, it was fundamentally different.
Moreover, Shan Dai sat on the sofa, arms crossed, quietly motionless. In front of her on the coffee table lay several copies of agreements, with pens already prepared.
There were also several car keys tossed there, a card—the supplementary card he had given her—along with the red property ownership certificate, and… a wedding ring.
Lu Zhixing dropped his suitcase in the entryway. His face pale and haggard, he took stiff steps toward her.
When he finally reached her side, a single glance at the items on the table stung his eyes so painfully that he couldn’t look. Turning his head away, he looked at her.
“Dai Dai, let’s talk…” He bent down, dropping to one knee before her, reaching out a hand to stroke her cheek. “I’m sorry, I admit it, it’s my fault. I swear it won’t happen again. I drank too much that day—it was just because I drank too much. Afterwards, we didn’t meet often, really, not often.”
Shan Dai did not look at him, not bestowing a single glance from beginning to end. Her unfocused gaze rested on her bare fingers.
“Your affairs have nothing to do with me anymore. Sign the agreement; tomorrow is Monday, so we’ll go to the Civil Affairs Bureau,” she said indifferently.
“Dai Dai!!” He took a deep breath, his handsome face filled with anguish. “I won’t go! Can’t we talk more? I can’t go—I beg you to forgive me, I beg you.”
Shan Dai finally blinked, moving her neck to glance at him.
The second his eyes met hers, he immediately leaned in close, his tone as devout as if he wanted to be with her in the next life, making her his sole beloved for all eternity.
“Dai Dai, I’m sorry, I failed you. I swear, it’ll never happen again, never again, alright? Can you forgive me? No matter what compensation you want, I’ll do it—I’ll compensate you, Dai Dai.”
“Lu Zhixing,” she let out a long breath, unable to refrain from asking, “I’m a little curious—why? Do you… no longer love me?”
“I love you, I love you!” He clutched her hands so tightly that it hurt her. “I love you! I didn’t love anyone outside—no one, absolutely no one!”
“Then why?” she asked with a smile, looking straight into his eyes.
“Dai Dai, I…” The pain in his eyes ran deep, and under her direct, unshielded gaze, he finally said with difficulty, “I drank too much that day. The company had a social gathering, and at the end, I escorted her back. We chatted a bit—at first about work, but later about life, her life, her plight…”
He buried his head against her arm, his voice gravelly and muffled. “Dai Dai, that person looked very much like the old you… Later, when she was sick and asked me to take her to the hospital, I merely took her there, that’s all, Dai Dai.”
Shan Dai burst into laughter in an instant.
Lu Zhixing said with profound remorse: “Dai Dai, really, it was just that she looked like you—like the you when we first got together. I… I drank too much and lost my head. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, but it wasn’t because I stopped loving you, nor was it because I fell in love with her. I didn’t, really, absolutely not.”
Shan Dai laughed bitterly. After laughing for a while, she realized that out of all the reasons she had considered, she had never expected this one.
“Lu Zhixing, so you like, feel pity for, and are willing to redeem every woman in hardship? Every ‘me’ with a bit of beauty who appears becomes the cradle of your love, is that it?”
“Dai Dai, no, that was just because I drank too much,” he raised his head immediately. “I swear, I love you, only you.”
Shan Dai murmured to herself: “Anyone can form a connection under the guise of pity, sprouting a desire to protect, meaning anyone can appear on that marriage certificate. Your vows have already failed once, yet you still swear.”
“Dai Dai, I…”
She reached out, pulled the two marriage certificates pressed beneath the red property document, and tossed them. They clattered onto the floor in the distance.
With that clack, Lu Zhixing swayed all over, nearly collapsing.
Shan Dai lowered her head, looking straight into his eyes, her gaze as cold as ice: “Look over the divorce agreement. Whatever you’re unsatisfied with, revise it now. Tomorrow we go to the Civil Affairs Bureau.”
He held her hands, his face filled with devout anxiety: “She and I have cut ties, really cut ties, Dai Dai.” His eyes were bloodshot beyond belief. “I beg you, don’t be like this. We’ve been together for so long—reconsider it, Dai Dai.”
Shan Dai wanted to pull her hands out of his tight grip, but they were held too firmly to move. Her wrists felt sore.
She said: “We’ve been together for so long… Ah, so you still remember those words. But they’re no match for Manager Lu’s good heart.”
“Dai Dai,” he raised a hand to swear. “I was wrong, it won’t happen ever again. I only love you—past, present, and future, I will only love you.”
Shan Dai: “If I hadn’t found out, how long did you plan to maintain that relationship? Loving another ‘me’ for a lifetime? That would make it seem like you love me so much—going so far as to find someone who resembles me, even hiding it from me for a lifetime out of fear of divorce. You really love me so much, Lu Zhixing—I believe it.”
He fell silent, his face turning completely pale. The words “I believe it” packed even more destructive force than the word “divorce”.
“Dai Dai…” he said hoarsely. “What do I need to do so we don’t get divorced? Tell me, alright? Whatever you say, I’ll do it all.”
“You don’t need to do anything. I have no love left for you—I don’t love you anymore, so I have no demands.”
“I don’t believe it!!” His voice grew louder, his flushed face panicked like a madman. “Dai Dai, don’t be like this, don’t say such things to hurt me.”
Shan Dai smiled and said, “What’s hard to believe? The person I loved was the Lu Zhixing whose eyes held only me. You’ve already cheated, and I’m supposed to still love you? It’s not a good thing for Manager Lu to be this confident.”
He suddenly panted for breath—another sentence packed with destructive force, leaving him feeling like someone struck through the heart by a sharp arrow, severely wounded.
“Dai Dai,” he choked out in a plea. “Why can’t you accept my compensation? You don’t have to forgive me now—after a month, a year, two years, that’s fine too. Then you’ll know how much I love you. I can wait.”
“You loving me is your business; me no longer loving you is a fact.” Shan Dai looked straight at him: “The moment I found out you cheated, I stopped loving you, because I know your compensation cannot give me amnesia to forget it. So divorce is the only path left for us—there’s absolutely no other possibility.”
“But I can’t bear to lose you…” His eyes were as red as if he hadn’t slept for nights, his voice growing rasper as he said, “I can’t bear to lose you.”
“It was your own doing.” She turned her face away.
Lu Zhixing tightly clutched her hands: “Forgive me just this once, alright? I beg you.”
Shan Dai’s face was like the thin morning mist in early winter—cold and colorless: “Must you force me to accept you? Wasn’t it enough that you mistreated me the moment you betrayed me? Lu Zhixing, must I be mistreated for a lifetime? When did you become so despicable? Don’t make yourself feel so strange to me, alright?”
“Dai Dai.” His breathing grew increasingly hurried. “I haven’t—how can I say it so you’ll believe me? I don’t want a divorce because I love you. The compensation is because I love you, not to mistreat you. My willingness to spend a lifetime atoning for it is because I love you. I’m not asking you to immediately forget the mistake I made; I just can’t bear to lose you, so I want to compensate. It’s all because I love you.”
“All these words are completely worthless now—worthless in front of someone who doesn’t love you anymore,” she said nonchalantly.
“Dai Dai.” In extreme pain, he lowered his head and closed his eyes. “I don’t believe it—I don’t believe you stopped loving me.”
Shan Dai suddenly smiled. After a moment, she couldn’t help but say: “Lately, I couldn’t believe you stopped loving me either, Lu Zhixing. For so many days, I was thinking: shouldn’t Lu Zhixing and I grow old together? I kept trying to analyze what was wrong with that sentence, with that thought, where the absurdity lay. Our past was truly so wonderful—it wasn’t that I was naive, nor that I was stupid. Until this very moment…”
She sniffled, looking at him with red-rimmed eyes: “Lu Zhixing, there are far too many Shan Dais in this world. You love her pitifulness and beauty in times of hardship, and you love the intimacy fostered by that environment. You love it very much. Of course, what you love most right now is still me—up to this point, we’ve given too much to each other, which makes you attached, accustomed, comfortable, and unwilling to discard. But under what circumstances would you love that other person more than me?”
“Dai Dai, no, that day will never come.” He fell on both knees in extreme agony. “Dai Dai!! Believe me, it won’t!”
She continued talking to herself: “Given time, as the duration you spend with someone else grows longer and the time you spend with me grows shorter, when that relationship surpasses mine, you’ll feel that I am dispensable. Do you understand? That is the reason I no longer accept your compensation, your love, or your atonement. Even though you turned back halfway and might never let it happen again or continue with someone else, that’s only because I caught you.”
“Dai Dai…” He sounded utterly drained, a sense of helpless exposure.
Shan Dai looked straight into his shattered gaze: “If I hadn’t found out, one day, the person bringing up divorce would be you.”
His expression turned dazed, staring blankly at her, shaking his head repeatedly, unable to utter another word.
He shook his head, shaking it forcefully.
“Look over the agreement and sign.” She took a deep breath, her voice choked with emotion.
Kneeling on the ground, his face buried against her arm, his body trembled slightly as warm tears flowed across her hand.
“No, don’t, I’m sorry.” His scorching breath sprayed over her wet hand, losing all reason like a patient with a high fever. “I won’t sign! If I sign, I won’t be able to compensate you, and you’ll believe I really loved someone else—I won’t sign.”
“Do you know why I waited for you to come back before bringing this up?” Shan Dai leaned back exhaustedly into the sofa, her voice hoarse and thick with nasal congestion. “If I had brought it up earlier, one could easily imagine your mood, yet you wouldn’t have been able to return. I thought to myself: is my goal to make Lu Zhixing live through this period in agonizing torment where days feel like years? Do I want him to suffer a fate worse than death, suffering through sleepless nights only to endure daytime at the office?”
She shook her head, “No, I know that’s not it. I hoped that the man who once accompanied me night after night outside the ICU door waiting for my father to pull through would normally, properly, and comfortably walk through these last few days with me. After the divorce, we could both be well.”
“Dai Dai.” He kept shaking his head, tears falling intermittently onto her. “So, I won’t, I won’t… I’ll compensate, I’ll spend a lifetime compensating! I don’t want a divorce, I won’t divorce!”
Lu Zhixing’s refusal to agree was also within Shan Dai’s expectations over these past days.
Easing her emotions after a moment, she finally stood up, pushed him aside, and said as she moved her stiff legs: “Then I can only file a lawsuit. If you want to drag this out with me, you can.” She lowered her eyes and gave him a bitter smile, “Then we won’t be able to part amicably—make your own choice.”
Translator’s note:
DAI DAI GET BEHIND ME😭😭
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