I'm Done with the Elite Marriage - Chapter 12
The photo wasn’t taken by Yi Bochao, nor was Fu Xunzhou the main focus of the picture.
It was Yi Bochao’s birthday-a celebration of his 29th year-and he had planned this moment meticulously to confess his love to a girl he had admired for years. With his 30th birthday looming, he finally mustered the courage and prepared everything down to the last detail. Heaven didn’t disappoint; his confession was successful. He spun his beloved in a circle, planting a fervent kiss on her lips.
Fu Xunzhou hadn’t wanted to attend the gathering. But Yi Bochao had insisted, saying it was a rare chance for their close-knit group of friends to reunite. Reluctantly, Fu Xunzhou agreed, if only to show support.
Watching Yi Bochao and his girlfriend locked in an embrace, Fu Xunzhou’s mind wandered to a question Zhou Youling had once asked him: “Do you love me?”
Yi Bochao declared to his girlfriend, “I love you! I love you! I’ll love you forever!”
The girl shyly buried her face in his chest, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Fu Xunzhou drifted deeper into thought.
Did he love Zhou Youling?
Having lost his father at a young age, he grew up with only his mother by his side.
No one had ever shown him what love looked like. As he grew older, he focused on becoming exceptional, leaving no room for romance.
He had never pondered this question before.
Zhou Youling had been an unexpected presence in his life.
Their meeting was unexpected. Their marriage was unexpected. Becoming husband and wife was unexpected.
But one thing Fu Xunzhou was certain of-he had never rejected this union, arranged by their families.
In fact, when he learned Zhou Youling had agreed to the marriage, he felt a faint sense of joy.
The concept of “love” was foreign to Fu Xunzhou. He rarely heard others mention it, and he never thought about it himself.
Hearing Yi Bochao repeat “love” so freely made Fu Xunzhou uncomfortable, even embarrassed.
Such declarations were better kept private. Making them public felt improper.
After Yi Bochao’s successful confession, someone suggested taking a group photo.
As they gathered for the picture, Xue Yining ran over, coincidentally ending up beside Fu Xunzhou. He frowned slightly and shifted away.
The idea of taking a group photo had been Xue Yining’s. Now a well-known photographer, she often traveled the world with her camera.
On occasions like this, capturing the moment was meaningful, especially with Xue Yining behind the lens. No one objected.
In the photo, Yi Bochao and his girlfriend stood in the center, arms wrapped around each other, while their friends flanked them on either side.
After the photo was taken, Xue Yining brushed her long hair aside and apologized, “I twisted my ankle running over earlier. Sorry about that.”
Fu Xunzhou shook his head politely, but then caught a faint, familiar scent.
It was a fragrance he knew well-Zhou Youling’s perfume.
Zhou Youling disliked strong scents but enjoyed having a subtle fragrance. She had chosen this particular perfume for its understated aroma, noticeable only up close.
She was a creature of habit, loyal to her preferences. Fu Xunzhou remembered she had been using this perfume since she was seventeen or eighteen, never once switching.
Noticing his distraction, Xue Yining waved a hand in front of him and tilted her head. “What are you thinking about?”
“My wife,” Fu Xunzhou replied honestly. He had indeed been thinking about Zhou Youling.
Xue Yining paused, then smiled. “You miss her that much? Why didn’t you bring her to the party?”
Fu Xunzhou couldn’t very well admit that Zhou Youling was currently asking for a divorce. Instead, he changed the subject. “What perfume are you wearing?”
“Huh?” Xue Yining blinked, momentarily caught off guard.
“My wife uses the same perfume as you,” Fu Xunzhou explained.
He didn’t know the name of the perfume, but his curiosity was piqued.
Xue Yining chuckled and told him its name.
Fu Xunzhou nodded in understanding.
A fleeting thought crossed his mind: Should he acquire the perfume company? The idea amused him.
Xue Yining said, “You mentioned wanting to take wedding photos. I’ve checked my schedule, and the earliest I can fit you in is the week after next.”
Fu Xunzhou fell silent.
Their wedding had been rushed. From the proposal to the banquet, everything was completed within a week. Such haste left many regrets, chief among them Zhou Youling’s disappointment at not having wedding photos.
Fu Xunzhou hadn’t been opposed to the idea of taking wedding photos. But as a man who sought perfection in everything, he wanted the ideal location, the best photographer, and, of course, time in his busy schedule.
After three years of relentless work, he finally had a moment to breathe. Coincidentally, he had run into his old classmate Xue Yining on a flight back to China.
It was Xue Yining who had brought up the topic of wedding photos and offered to take them.
The opportunity intrigued him, and they discussed it briefly.
But ironically, before he could bring up the idea to Zhou Youling, she had already asked for a divorce.
“Did you two have a fight?” Xue Yining asked.
Fu Xunzhou was about to deny it when his phone vibrated. He glanced at the screen and saw Zhou Youling’s message: [Tomorrow morning at nine. I’ll be waiting for you at the Civil Affairs Bureau.]
Xue Yining studied his expression, her smile tinged with curiosity. “Really? No fight?”
Fu Xunzhou pocketed his phone and replied instinctively, “No fight.”
Just silence.
In their three years of marriage, Fu Xunzhou couldn’t recall a single argument with Zhou Youling. Mostly because he was too busy; they barely saw each other, let alone fought.
By that measure, this was their first real conflict. And for the first time, he had lost his temper.
Regret began to creep in.
“Well, if you say so,” Xue Yining shrugged.
Suddenly, Fu Xunzhou found her chatter irritating.
They had been classmates in high school and college, their relationship closer than most. But it had never gone beyond friendship.
Fu Xunzhou thought back to Zhou Youling’s cryptic remark and found it absurd. If he had loved Xue Yining, he would have been with her long ago. Why would he have married Zhou Youling? What was she thinking?
Seeing Fu Xunzhou’s silence, Xue Yining offered advice: “Couples fight all the time. Even teeth bite the tongue sometimes. The key is to make amends. Buy her a gift, but more importantly, show her you care.”
Fu Xunzhou listened, finding some merit in her words.
What couple doesn’t fight? Perhaps their lack of arguments had made them seem less like a normal couple.
With this realization, Fu Xunzhou felt a sense of clarity.
All he needed was to give her an olive branch.
…
At the park square, a group of older women danced energetically to upbeat music blaring from speakers. Their synchronized movements were a spectacle of joy.
Zhou Youling stared blankly at the scene, questioning her purpose.
She couldn’t immerse herself in the revelry, remaining an onlooker-much like her marriage. She had tried to play the role of a perfect wife, only to find herself unable to enter Fu Xunzhou’s heart.
Her phone rang. Seeing Bai Lingxue’s name on the caller ID, a faint sense of disappointment washed over her.
She answered, and Bai Lingxue’s cheerful voice greeted her, “Why do you sound so down? Don’t you want to hear my voice?”
“It’s not that,” Zhou Youling forced a smile. “What’s up?”
“Can’t I call just to chat? But actually, I do have something to discuss,” Bai Lingxue said. “Are you free to meet?”
Zhou Youling agreed.
They arranged to meet at a music bar called Qingxin. Unlike other bars, Qingxin was quiet and offered soothing melodies-a sanctuary for them.
When Xu Jiaze returned from the restroom, Zhou Youling handed back the violin and asked, “Do you play any other instruments?”
Xu Jiaze smiled shyly. “I can play the piano, cello, and guitar.”
Zhou Youling was astonished.
How had she stumbled upon this hidden gem?
“Do you want to make some money? I know a place,” she said, standing up.
Xu Jiaze’s face lit up. “Really?”
He was in desperate need of money.
In fact, Zhou Youling had sensed his financial struggles during their first encounter at the restaurant. Though she hadn’t pried, she had wanted to help.
At Qingxin, Bai Lingxue waved them over. “Here.”
As Zhou Youling and Xu Jiaze approached, Bai Lingxue teased, “Where’d you find this handsome younger brother?”
“Picked him up on the way,” Zhou Youling joked.
Xu Jiaze scratched his head sheepishly and greeted Bai Lingxue.
Scanning the bar, Zhou Youling asked, “Where’s Congcong? She mentioned needing a musician.”
Speak of the devil-Congshi, the bar’s owner, appeared.
Congshi’s appearance often misled people. With her short, stylish haircut, tall stature, and androgynous fashion, many mistook her for a man at first glance.
Qingxin was Congshi’s brainchild-not wildly popular, but beloved by the artsy crowd.
Leaning on Zhou Youling’s chair, Congshi asked, “What’s been keeping you busy? Haven’t seen you here in ages.”
Before Zhou Youling could answer, Bai Lingxue chimed in, “Busy being lovey-dovey with her husband, of course.”
“Ugh, the stench of romance!” Congshi joked.
Zhou Youling smiled weakly, sipping her drink without offering an explanation.
Years ago, she had spent much of her time with Congshi and their friends, frequenting bars and living freely.
Marriage had changed that. She rarely went out, her gatherings with friends dwindling-a choice she had made herself.
But soon, she would leave that marriage behind.
Introducing Xu Jiaze to Congshi, Zhou Youling said, “He plays the violin, cello, guitar, and piano.”
“Wow, where’d you find this treasure?” Congshi’s eyes sparkled.
Xu Jiaze humbly replied, “Just a jack-of-all-trades.”
After learning more, Congshi took Xu Jiaze for an audition.
Meanwhile, Zhou Youling turned to Bai Lingxue. “What did you want to talk about?”
Bai Lingxue got straight to the point. “Remember I told you about my relative’s trendy restaurant?”
Zhou Youling nodded.
“Well, he invested over two million in it. The restaurant’s doing well, but he failed in another venture and urgently needs to sell the restaurant to recover funds.”
“So you want to borrow money from me?” Zhou Youling asked, amused.
She didn’t mind; she wasn’t short on cash.
Bai Lingxue shook her head. “No, I want you to take over the restaurant.”
Zhou Youling smiled for the first time that evening, albeit wryly. “You’re joking. I wouldn’t know how to run it.”
“Is it that you don’t know, or you don’t want to learn?” Bai Lingxue pressed. “Remember when I opened my café and Congcong started this bar? You said you wanted to open a restaurant. We even planned it-lunch at your place, afternoon tea at mine, and evening drinks at Congcong’s.”
“I remember,” Zhou Youling admitted. “That was years ago.”
“So, are you giving up on your dream?” Bai Lingxue asked, her gaze unwavering.
Unsure how to respond, Zhou Youling picked up her drink and took a sip.
Moments later, Congshi returned with a bottle of wine, clearly in the mood for a lively night.
The friends reminisced, laughing over old school memories.
As laughter turned to tears, someone’s eyes glistened first.
On stage, Xu Jiaze played the piano beautifully. His melody carried a gentle sorrow, stirring emotions buried deep within.
Then he began to sing:
“I always needed time on my own. I never thought I’d need you there when I cried. And the days feel like years when I’m alone. And the bed where you lie is made up on your side…”
“Not bad,” Congshi commented, slightly tipsy. “Talented and charming-a real catch for the ladies.”
Bai Lingxue, equally tipsy, asked, “What’s this song? Sounds familiar.”
Zhou Youling recognized it. Back in school, this foreign singer’s songs had been all the rage. It was her first exposure to Western music, and she’d quickly become a fan of the singer’s edgy style.
Inspired, she had even learned to skateboard.
Curled up in a booth, hugging her knees, Zhou Youling was already drunk but took another sip of wine.
It had been ages since she’d drunk like this. The alcohol seemed to wash away her sorrows, freeing her from the facade of being a docile “little bunny.”
Congshi gently stroked her head and pulled her into an embrace. “Silly girl, why are you crying?”
“I don’t want to be with him anymore. He’s not good to me. He’s not my hero… He doesn’t love me…” Zhou Youling sobbed, closing her eyes. “I want to find my knight in shining armor…”
Drunk, Zhou Youling was quiet and obedient, neither causing a scene nor rambling nonsense. She simply fell asleep.
When Fu Xunzhou received the bar’s call about her, he was just leaving the birthday party.
Learning she had been drinking, he frowned but wasn’t angry.
Was she drowning her sorrows?
The thought stirred guilt within him.
As his driver prepared to open the car door, he hesitated, handing Fu Xunzhou a lipstick. “Madam saw this in the car last time and asked you to return it.”
Fu Xunzhou didn’t take it. “Whose is it?”
The driver glanced at the approaching Xue Yining and hinted, “Probably hers.”
Fu Xunzhou turned his head.
Xue Yining jogged over playfully. “Mind giving me a ride?”
Fu Xunzhou got into the car, his tone icy. “Not going your way.”
The driver quickly returned the lipstick to Xue Yining before starting the engine.
Standing in the cold wind, Xue Yining clenched her teeth.
The car moved steadily toward the bar where Zhou Youling was.
Halfway there, Fu Xunzhou’s phone vibrated-a voice message from Zhou Youling.
Was she reaching out to reconcile?
Fu Xunzhou raised an eyebrow, straightened his posture, and smugly played the message.
Through the speaker came Zhou Youling’s voice: [Fu Xunzhou, you bastard! You scumbag! How dare you give me the cold shoulder! How dare you not love me! I want a divorce! Immediately! If you don’t agree, you’re a pig!]
The driver, focused on the road, couldn’t help but mutter, “…”
