No wonder every time I had a conflict with the Huo Family—no, to be precise, with Yue Ling—he would always scold me without even hearing my side.
No wonder he never allowed me into his study...
No wonder he was indifferent and distant toward me...
Now it all made sense. Every little thing had been leading to this revelation.
Even his so-called love for our daughter was a lie—all of it, a complete farce!
The one who truly adored our daughter was Yue Ling. He was just pandering to her preferences!
At this realization, Zhang Yaqin suddenly laughed.
Thirty years of marriage—she had borne him children, managed the household, and slaved for his ambitions.
When he said he wanted to fight for that position, she had pulled every string to help him.
And now, he claimed he’d done it all just to make Yue Ling regret her choices!
Right now, Zhang Yaqin truly wanted to crack open his skull and see what nonsense was stuffed inside.
The more she thought about it, the angrier she grew, and the angrier she grew, the more she couldn’t stop thinking about it.
Once the fury ignited in her chest, she no longer cared about consequences. She shoved the door open with full force.
At twenty, she might have worried about breaking this fragile peace, fearing the fallout.
But now, past fifty, with grandchildren old enough to run errands—what did she have to fear?
Besides, she wasn’t the one who’d done wrong!
To her surprise, Yu Changqing showed little reaction when he saw her.
Calmly, he tidied the items on his desk before speaking, his tone as gentle as ever.
"You should have knocked before coming in—"
SMACK!
She gave him no time to react. Zhang Yaqin slapped him with all her strength.
Yu Changqing, ever the refined scholar, had spent decades prioritizing self-care over physical training.
The blow sent stars flashing before his eyes, his cheek burning with pain.
Before he could speak, she struck the other side of his face.
"Have you lost your mind?!"
Yu Changqing clutched his face, stunned. "You—since when do you dare raise a hand against your own husband?"
"I have lost my mind—and it’s all because of your shameless betrayal!"
"Yu Changqing! For over thirty years, what have I ever done to wrong you? Is this how you repay me?"
"Speak! Say something!"
"Or have you given up even pretending to explain?"
Overcome with rage, she pummeled his chest repeatedly. "You heartless wretch! What kind of poison did Yue Ling feed you to rot your brain like this?"
"Listen well—in this life, alive or dead, you belong to me, Zhang Yaqin."
"Even if you crush the Huo Family, Yue Ling will never spare you a second glance."
"Enough!"
Yu Changqing, face marked with red handprints, glared at her with hollow eyes.
"These are just old, meaningless grudges. What’s the point of dredging them up now?"
"Meaningless, is it?" Zhang Yaqin snarled.
"If it’s so meaningless, why keep her photo hidden away? To reminisce? Or are you nursing some filthy, unspeakable fantasy? You know the truth!"
With that, she shoved him aside and yanked open the drawer, pulling out a pocket watch.
"Give that back!" Yu Changqing’s voice sharpened abruptly.
"Nothing ever happened between us! Don’t you dare paint me as some vile—"
In thirty years of marriage, this was the first time he had ever raised his voice at her.
His tone only fueled her fury. "You wish something happened! You’d have groveled at her feet if she’d let you!"
As she spoke, she snapped open the watch.
The moment she saw the photo inside, Zhang Yaqin froze.
Then she remembered the words she’d overheard earlier: "She likes gentle, scholarly men."
Suddenly, everything clicked. "This isn’t—"
But before she could finish, Yu Changqing lunged for the watch.
In the struggle, the photo tore cleanly in half.
Yu Changqing’s face drained of color. In a flash, his palm struck her cheek.
"Give it to me!"
Zhang Yaqin’s laughter burst out—wild, unhinged. It sent a chill down his spine.
"What’s so funny?"
"I’m laughing at the biggest fool of all."
She sneered. "I thought I was pathetic, but you? You’re the real joke here..."
"Hah! This is priceless."
Yu Changqing frowned. "What are you talking about?"
A mocking smile curled her lips.
"I’m saying you’re the blindest, most delusional idiot alive."
"You pined after her for over thirty years, ruined your friendship with Huo Zhendong for her sake—only to realize you’ve been chasing the wrong woman all along. Isn’t that hilarious?"
"Nonsense!" Yu Changqing’s face darkened. "This is her."
"It’s not!" Zhang Yaqin bit out each word. "Have you forgotten? Yue Ling had a twin sister."
"Yue Ling never liked bookish weaklings. Her heart always belonged to men like Huo Zhendong—bold, unyielding."
"The one who loved scholars was her sister—Yue Sheng!"
"You’re lying. You’ve always envied her."
"Fine, I do envy her!" Zhang Yaqin admitted bluntly.
"I envy her luck—four sons in a row, while your parents scorned me for bearing a daughter first. They wouldn’t even hold her."
"I’ll never forget how your mother sneered at me during my confinement."
"And yes, I envy that she had a man who loved her completely—unlike you, whose heart never belonged to me."
She didn’t know how Yu Changqing had mistaken the sisters, but one thing was certain:
The photo showed Yue Ling’s identical twin—Yue Sheng!
She’d seen the same tiny portrait at Yue Ling’s home years ago, back when their families were still close.
At the time, she too had assumed it was Yue Ling.
But Yue Ling had laughed and corrected her: "That’s my sister. We look so alike even our parents mix us up."
Perhaps Zhang Yaqin’s words struck a nerve. Fragments of a long-buried memory surfaced in Yu Changqing’s mind.
Even after nearly forty years, he remembered it vividly.
The day he first met "Yue Ling," the rain had poured relentlessly.
He’d taken shelter in a bookstore, where he spotted her—long hair cascading, absorbed in a book.
One glance, and he was smitten.
But youthful infatuation was tangled with insecurity. He’d lingered for days, too timid to speak.
From then on, he’d waited outside that bookstore, hoping to see her again.
