It’s been more than a week since Li Yaru asked for a divorce.
Zhuang Qiting only regarded it as a minor farce, the destructive power of which, to him, was akin to flirting.
Over the past twenty-some years, it wasn’t as if his wife hadn’t threatened divorce before— there were a couple of times, but he’d smoothed things over with his own methods.
In front of outsiders, his wife was elegant and noble, but in private, her temper wasn’t great. As long as he exercised a bit of control, she’d throw a little tantrum.
But this time, things seemed different from before. Li Yaru was especially resolute. Didn’t she realize she was already over forty, had borne him three children, and now wanted a divorce? Utter nonsense.
Zhuang Qiting was very displeased. That night, they tussled in all sorts of ways, trying to force her to behave, but she was stubborn— like a wild little leopard, biting his shoulder until it bled, the teeth marks still visible.
Zhuang Qiting was temporarily out of solutions. He knew the current situation wasn’t to his advantage; being too forceful would only add fuel to the fire.
So he took a step back and arranged a luxurious private island vacation for his wife, thoughtfully letting her invite her friends along.
Blue skies, clear seas, sandy beaches, and coconut groves—the perfect place to relax. Once she was happy, she wouldn’t think about all that nonsense.
.
Today was Li Yaru’s third day on vacation, and Zhuang Qiting was already feeling out of sorts.
Waking at six in the morning, he instinctively reached out to hug, only to find a patch of coldness.
The high-thread-count Egyptian cotton bedding was soft as clouds, but compared to Li Yaru’s skin, pampered by tens of millions of Hong Kong dollars each year, it simply paled in comparison.
Zhuang Qiting could never have imagined, when he was young, that a woman in her forties could still be so soft and smooth—he couldn’t keep his hands off her.
The brief emptiness faded. Zhuang Qiting rose expressionlessly, washed up simply, and prepared to start his hour-long morning exercise. His personal trainer was already waiting in the gym on the second floor of the Zhuang residence.
His life was filled with strict order, as if every planet orbited the sun at a fixed speed.
Life was as unpredictable as the universe, impossible to control, but there were always those strong enough to rival the Creator— establishing eternal order in their own universe and keeping everything around them firmly in hand.
Today’s workout was thirty minutes of cardio, push-ups, pull-ups, bench presses, and a set of health exercises specially tailored to his physique.
The trainer noticed Zhuang Qiting wasn’t in top form and asked considerately, “Zhuang Xiansheng, did you sleep well last night?”
Zhuang Qiting neither said it was good nor bad.
His eyes darkened as he swung himself off the machine, accepting the towel the servant handed over at just the right moment to wipe away the hot sweat.
Without Li Yaru, he couldn’t sleep well.
He was used to sleeping with his arms around his warm, soft wife—only then could he truly rest.
It had always been this way, from youth into middle age, never once hitting a so-called refractory period. His habits were hard to change; once formed, they became deeply ingrained.
Is it because I’ve always asked too much, been too intense and forceful, that she has to throw a fit every now and then?
The thought flickered by—No, she likes it too. I’m sure of it.
………
After exercise, his muscles were engorged and defined, sweat trailing down his sharp lines.
Stripped of his gentlemanly attire, the man looked more like a proud beast king after a hunt.
After showering, Zhuang Qiting entered the dressing room, his broad back muscles passing briefly in the mirror.
The butler had already hung the pressed suit in the display area, the style and color prepared according to the day’s schedule—he never needed to worry about what to wear.
Sometimes, when she was in a good mood, Li Yaru would personally pick out his clothes for the next day, from tie to watch to socks, taking care of everything.
If she wanted something from him, she’d even tie his tie herself.
Zhuang Qiting thoroughly enjoyed being served by his wife. When she was gentle and attentive, it satisfied his possessiveness and need for conquest to the utmost.
Unfortunately, his wife wasn’t the obedient type.
To put it plainly, Li Yaru had never been the image of the perfect partner in Zhuang Qiting’s mind. He preferred docile, gentle little women—so much less trouble.
But he was the one who insisted on marrying Li Yaru, after all. The old man had only said his headaches were yet to come.
Back then, he was young and arrogant, successful in business, with an illustrious family background— he had an almost transcendent confidence in all things.
The woman he chose would eventually be molded into what he wanted.
More than twenty years had passed, and Li Yaru was still Li Yaru—smarter, more beautiful, more alluring than at nineteen, and even harder to handle.
On Hong Kong Island, no matter how you sorted them— old money or new, wealth or power— the Zhuang Family was indisputably at the top. To say they could cover the sky with one hand was no exaggeration.
Outsiders never dared call Zhuang Qiting by name— he was always respectfully addressed as “Zhuang Xiansheng.” Only his wife dared ride roughshod over him, growing more spoiled by his favor. Now she was dissatisfied with being Zhuang Tai Tai and actually wanted a divorce.
She really thinks I can’t bear to punish her!
The man’s dark eyes were as deep as a pool, the fine lines at their corners adding to his authority.
He reached for his tie and sleeve garters, fastening them meticulously.
Then he put on his vest and suit jacket, his broad back filling out the suit with mature sex appeal.
His well-maintained face looked no more than thirty-five or six, handsome yet exuding a powerful aura that left younger men in awe.
He thought highly of himself in every respect— looks, physique, money, power, reputation— he stood at the pinnacle of the masculine world.
He wasn’t the type to let himself go in middle age; last year’s checkup showed his physical condition was that of someone in their twenties, full of vitality.
Time hadn’t worn him down; it had only added to his mature charm.
And yet, he couldn’t fathom why his wife wanted a divorce.
Forget it. She’s just being disobedient.
Zhuang Qiting decided not to dwell on it. Once his wife came back from vacation, everything would return to normal. He was willing to tolerate all her childishness.
.
Two understated black Mercedes S-Classes flanked a custom Phantom with license plate “1” in the center. Other cars, not knowing who sat inside, gave way.
Zhuang Qiting lounged in the back seat, legs crossed, gold-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, idly listening as his secretary reported today’s schedule— though it wasn’t his own itinerary.
Even if his wife was angry and ignoring him, he still knew everything about her, even thousands of miles away— down to the detail of her eating three garlic-grilled shrimp and drinking two glasses of whiskey last night, wearing a sexy red bikini…
“Madam also… also…”
“Finish your sentence.”
The assistant braced himself, “Also smiled twice at a male waiter in the restaurant. Then the waiter took the initiative to chat with Madam. The conversation…”
Zhuang Qiting said nothing. The assistant reported while trembling, handing over the photos.
He glanced at them.
The man in the photo was very young, tanned skin, a mouthful of white teeth, dressed in a short-sleeved shirt and floral beach shorts common to the area— full of youthful, restless energy.
Zhuang Qiting idly touched the wedding ring on his finger, his voice flat, “Sent him away?”
“Sent away.” The secretary bowed his head.
That waiter, after speaking with Li Yaru, had been quietly sent to another island hundreds of nautical miles away— he’d never meet Li Yaru again in this lifetime.
Zhuang Qiting nodded, “Tell them to be more careful. Don’t let Madam’s eyes be sullied again.”
Trash like that, daring to flaunt in front of Ah Ruo.
The assistant hung his head so low he was almost invisible, “Yes, sir.”
………
.