chapter 19
At the very beginning, Zhou Mu thought that as long as they weren’t divorced, it was enough.
As long as they were still husband and wife, he would still have time to win Song Jin back.
After all, she had loved him so much before.
Later, he realized he was wrong.
Song Jin didn’t accept his attempts to make amends.
In front of outsiders they were still a loving couple, but once the doors closed, they turned into polite housemates sharing the same space.
She never ate the breakfasts he made her; as for the gifts he gave, she would occasionally give one in return, but it always felt randomly chosen, with no thought behind it.
He told himself it was fine, that one day he would move her.
But the better he treated her, the colder she became.
The worst moments for Zhou Mu were when they came back from parties or from visiting their parents.
Because that was when the contrast hit hardest.
One second she’d be smiling brightly, and the next she was letting go of his hand, leaving only the fading warmth in the crook of his arm.
He had argued before.
Breakdowns were nothing new.
He told Song Jin to curse him out, grabbed her hand and slapped his own face with it. Eyes red, he begged her to resent him.
But Song Jin stayed silent and pulled her hand out of his.
She let out a quiet sigh and said, “Don’t make a scene.”
Her eyes were calm.
He felt like a criminal with nowhere to hide.
From beginning to end, he was the one being unreasonable.
It was only in that moment that he finally understood: regret and pain were useless.
Song Jin wasn’t going to look back.
So afterward, he still thought, as long as Song Jin didn’t divorce him, it would be enough.
Even if she was just using him, even if she was just calculating against him, even if there was no love-none of that mattered.
As long as she was willing to stay by his side, as long as she remained his wife in name-
That would be enough.
But that one sentence hung over Zhou Mu’s head like a Sword of Damocles.
He didn’t know when that sword would fall.
And he lived every moment in fear that it might.
The one thing he could not-absolutely could not-accept was…
Her falling in love with someone else.
Zhou Mu spent two days in the hospital.
On the second day, Song Jin didn’t come.
Even when he was discharged and went home, there was no sign of her.
He sent her a message and waited several hours before he finally got a reply: she said she was on a business trip.
Their last conversation had been half a month ago.
Zhou Mu had asked if she was free. A friend had given him two tickets to a musical.
-I don’t like musicals. Sorry.
Zhou Mu had stared at that message in a daze for a long time.
She used to go with him before.
They would walk home afterward, Song Jin holding onto his arm, step light and springy.
Zhou Mu would watch her smiling.
“I’m so happy today.”
What made her happy wasn’t the musical.
It was that they were together.
Zhou Mu typed and deleted in the chat box for a long time before finally sending a line.
-I’ve been discharged.
He thought about it, then withdrew it and changed it to:
-Safe travels.
There was no reply after that.
Zhou Mu let out a quiet sigh and put his phone down.
The city was lively in the evening. Lights were already coming on in every home.
People heading back from work were returning to their families, and the smell of food drifted out from all directions.
Along with it came laughter and chatter shared with loved ones.
Zhou Mu didn’t turn on the lights. He sat alone in the dark.
All of a sudden, the house felt incredibly empty.
He had never felt that way before.
When she wasn’t busy, Song Jin liked to curl up on the sofa and watch anime.
It seemed like a habit she’d picked up back when she used to stay at his place.
When she came back from overseas, he’d once thought she seemed more grown-up, a little unfamiliar to him.
Later he realized she hadn’t changed at all.
She still loved anime, still called him Little Mu-gege, still laughed out loud when she was happy, and when she was sad, it was easy to coax her back into a good mood.
Zhou Mu had actually been very happy about that.
At the company, Song Jin was sharp and capable.
Everyone praised her independence.
But only he knew.
His little girl could act spoiled, could watch the kind of anime kids liked, could cry and laugh for the characters on the screen.
Only he knew.
He had once felt a secret, overwhelming delight-
That only he knew this side of Song Jin.