This night was destined to be anything but peaceful.
Before Qian Huan could even react, she was thrown onto the vast bed. In the next instant, a scorching figure pressed down on her.
"As you wished."
The man gave her no chance to speak, sealing her lips with his own.
Tonight, his passion was overwhelming.
Qian Huan had waited for this moment for so long. Slowly, she closed her eyes, her fair, delicate arms wrapping around his neck as she met his fervor with equal ardor.
The temperature in the air rose relentlessly, clothes strewn haphazardly across the floor.
The next morning, the first thing Qian Huan did upon waking was to turn toward the space beside her.
But the spot was empty. She reached out, her fingers brushing against cold sheets—proof that he had been gone for a long time.
In the end, it was still just a loveless accident.
Three years of marriage. She should have known better by now, shouldn’t she?
*Qian Huan, what exactly are you still hoping for?* she asked herself bitterly.
Burying her face in the soft bedding, she let her tears soak into the pillow. Exhausted from crying, she drifted back into a heavy slumber, the faint scent of his cologne lingering in the air.
The second time Qian Huan awoke, it was to the sound of knocking at the door.
She shifted slightly, only to wince at the dull ache radiating through her body. Glancing down, she saw the scattered bruises—bluish-purple marks marring her skin. A wry smile tugged at her lips.
*No gentleness at all. I wonder if he’s this rough with other women too.*
However, the cruel reality gave her no time for wild fantasies.
"Qian Huan, get the hell out here!" The familiar voice made her freeze. She hastily grabbed a piece of clothing to cover herself, her mind racing. She didn’t know why the man who had just left had returned, but a small, foolish part of her still clung to the hope that maybe—just maybe—she still held some tiny shred of importance in his heart as his wife.
She tried to compose herself, smoothing her clothes and taking a deep breath before forcing what she hoped was a gentle smile onto her lips.
The moment she opened the door, before she could even utter the word "husband," Qiao Weiyuan’s furious voice lashed out like a whip: "Qian Huan, you’re truly shameless."
Then—*crack*—a sharp pain exploded across her face.
Her ears rang from the force of his slap. Clutching her stinging cheek, she glared at him, her voice trembling with anger. "Qiao Weiyuan, you’ve gone too far!"
"Too far?" He practically spat the words through gritted teeth. "You fucking cheated on me, and *I’m* the one who’s gone too far?"
"Exactly!" Qiao Ruoxin, his younger sister, chimed in, her words rapid-fire like bullets. "How could you be so disgusting? You’re still married to my brother, and yet you pull this kind of despicable stunt? You’ve humiliated our entire family!"
From the moment Qian Huan had opened the door, Qiao Ruoxin’s sharp eyes had been scanning the room like radar, and they quickly zeroed in on the note on the bedside table.
She strode over and snatched it up—along with the check beneath it. The check was for 100,000 yuan. The note bore only four words: *"Buy the morning-after pill."* The handwriting was bold and elegant, the strokes strong and confident. If the penmanship reflected the man, then he must have been as striking as his words.
Qian Huan’s mind went blank.
Qiao Weiyuan was actually turning this around on *her*? *She* was the one who had cheated? Did this man have *any* conscience left?
"Qiao Weiyuan," she said, her voice low and steady despite the storm inside her, "you don’t have to love me. But you *do not* get to slander me."
Qiao Weiyuan let out a derisive snort, as if he'd just heard the most ridiculous joke.
"Qian Huan, who would've thought you'd put on such a saintly act before? And now you're selling yourself—you're not fit to be a daughter-in-law of the Qiao family." At that moment, Qiao Ruoxin turned and handed the check and note to Qiao Weiyuan. "You know how Mom is, brother. You need to divorce this woman immediately."
Qiao Weiyuan's face was as cold as midwinter ice, his eyes blazing with fury, as if he wanted to devour Qian Huan whole.
Spotting the white garment behind Qian Huan, Qiao Ruoxin curled her lips into a sly smirk, bending down to pick it up. "What's this?"
She flung it at Qian Huan's face, her tone dripping with venom as she sneered, "Looks like a nurse's uniform. Qian Huan, you really are shameless."
The temperature in the room plummeted. Ignoring Qiao Ruoxin's words, Qiao Weiyuan kept his fiery gaze locked on Qian Huan, his voice laced with accusation. "Are you that desperate for money? So desperate you'd sell yourself?"
