On the other end of the line, Fu Jingzhou was startled to hear a man’s voice. A surge of rage instantly rushed to his head.
A brother? Since when did Lin Anqiao have a brother?
He squeezed the words out through gritted teeth: "Who are you? Why are you with Lin Anqiao?"
Song Hanjiang’s voice carried a hint of coldness, and his peach-blossom eyes narrowed dangerously. "That’s none of your business, ex-husband."
"Ex-husband."
The word stung, and Fu Jingzhou’s expression darkened instantly. Before he could respond, the call was disconnected.
Nearby, Qiao Yusu heard the exchange and felt a surge of delight. She laughed brazenly, turning to Fu Jingzhou. "Brother Fu, it’s fine. A woman like that isn’t worth keeping. From now on, you have me and Xiaochuan by your side."
Fu Jingzhou remained silent, his eyes growing colder and deeper.
In their seven years of marriage, he had never once heard of Lin Anqiao having a brother. Recalling the man’s laughing, provocative, and ambiguous tone over the phone, Fu Jingzhou’s brow furrowed even more. It seemed Lin Anqiao had truly learned a new trick. Knowing his triggers, she was intentionally finding someone to put on a show just to infuriate him.
A flicker of disgust crossed Fu Jingzhou’s eyes. He was sick of Lin Anqiao’s unreasonable tantrums. Her actions were nothing more than a desperate attempt to capture his affection. But this time, she had gone too far. Divorce was the punishment he had decided for her.
***
After hanging up, Song Hanjiang returned the phone to Lin Anqiao. As she reached for it, her fingers brushed against his cool fingertips, and her hand trembled, nearly dropping the device.
"What are you flustered about?"
The man’s light chuckle sounded, the tail end of his words lingering and affectionate.
Lin Anqiao looked up at Song Hanjiang and locked eyes with his bewitching, alluring peach-blossom eyes. Those eyes concealed emotions she couldn't name—a look quite different from what she remembered from her childhood. This change made her heart race, and she quickly averted her gaze. "Brother, I need to go to the Fu Residence to retrieve the divorce papers."
"Eat first." Song Hanjiang’s tone was non-negotiable; his smiling eyes remained fixed on her. "Have you grown distant from your brother? You’ve learned to hide your grievances from me?"
He emphasized the word "brother" in a suggestively intimate way.
Lin Anqiao felt a sour ache in her chest and nearly burst into tears. When she was young, she used to follow Song Hanjiang around like a shadow, turning to him to settle even the smallest matters. Even after all these years of separation, seeing him again made her want to lean on him instinctively.
But now, she only had three months left. She couldn't grow too close to him; departing this world quietly was her best option.
Lin Anqiao pulled at the corners of her mouth, forcing a smile that was uglier than crying. "I know. I won't hide anything from you in the future." After all, she was dying—what else was there to hide?
The dishes on the table were as exquisite as works of art, with enticing colors and careful presentation. Among them were her favorite braised pork knuckles and sweet and sour ribs. A wave of warmth washed over her. She picked up a piece and put it in her mouth, but suddenly her nose stung and her vision blurred.
She quickly bowed her head. "This is delicious."
Song Hanjiang watched her intently for a long time before letting out a sigh. He reached out and scooped a bowl of soup for her, his movements gentle and natural, as if he had been doing this forever, without a hint of awkwardness or pretense.
"It’s my fault for coming back late and letting you suffer so much," Song Hanjiang said softly. "From now on, I will protect you."
Lin Anqiao met those beautiful peach-blossom eyes, and her heart skipped a beat. The nagging pain in her stomach reminded her that her days were numbered. Her heart felt as if it had been stuffed with cotton; she felt a sense of grievance. *It’s too late, Brother.* If he hadn't left, would things have been different?
Lin Anqiao smiled and took a deep breath, trying to keep her voice steady. "Thank you, Brother."
Marrying Fu Jingzhou was her own choice, and she had to take responsibility for it. However, given Song Hanjiang’s keen instincts, it wouldn't be long before he discovered she was dying. Lin Anqiao lowered her eyes; she had to find a way to move out quickly.
Beside them, Song Yu watched their interaction, her large eyes darting back and forth. She marveled inwardly: *I haven't seen Uncle smile like that in a long time. Aunt Qiaoqiao really has a charm.*
After the meal, Lin Anqiao prepared to retrieve the divorce papers. Just as she stepped outside, Song Hanjiang stopped her. "I'll take you." He swung a set of keys from his fingertip, his peach-blossom eyes particularly captivating. "I don't want our Qiaoqiao to suffer any grievances."
Lin Anqiao’s heart gave a sharp jolt. "Okay."
Once in the car, Lin Anqiao didn't dare to look at him further; she closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep. Song Hanjiang drove very smoothly, and given how exhausted she had been lately, she actually nearly drifted off.
When they reached the Fu Residence, Song Hanjiang gently patted her head as it began to loll to the side and chuckled. "We're here."
Still half-asleep, Lin Anqiao’s gaze remained hazy. It was only when she looked out the window at the Fu Residence—the place that had brought her so much pain for years—that she snapped back to reality.
"Brother, why don't you head back first? I’ll call a cab once I have the divorce papers," she said, lowering her gaze and hesitating. Instinctively, she didn't want him to see her in such a wretched state.
Song Hanjiang paused, looked at her unhurriedly, and gave a soft "mm." His peach-blossom eyes seemed to brew a hint of hurt. Lin Anqiao dared not look at him again; she took a deep breath and went inside alone.
The moment she pushed open the door, she was met with Qiao Yusu’s broad, brazen smile. Lin Anqiao had no intention of engaging with her; she just wanted to retrieve those papers quickly. To her surprise, Qiao Yusu blocked her path, her words dripping with a declaration of territory.
"Anqiao, you're back? To make it easier to look after Xiaochuan, I’ve moved directly into Brother Fu’s house. Since your room was cleared out and empty anyway, I moved into it. You... don't mind, do you?"
Her tone was flippant and casual, as if she were the lady of the house. Lin Anqiao remained expressionless, ignoring her.
Qiao Yusu assumed Lin Anqiao was silent out of jealousy. She immediately struck a triumphant pose and boasted smugly, "Oh, Anqiao, Brother Fu and I are just good buddies. Don't go thinking too much into it."
Lin Anqiao looked at the brazen woman before her, finding the situation ironic. *Good buddies?* She was merely using the name of friendship to conduct an affair. Fu Jingzhou was intelligent enough to know that perfectly well, yet he never rejected her.
Just then, Fu Xiaochuan heard the commotion in the living room and ran out of his room. Seeing Lin Anqiao, he froze for a moment, then a glimmer of joy flashed in his eyes, assuming his mother had returned to reconcile.
Fu Xiaochuan immediately resumed his usual imperious manner. With his chin slightly tilted, he shouted at Lin Anqiao, "Mom, you came just in time. Help me assemble this toy."
The tone was that of someone commanding a servant, completely devoid of the respect a son should have for his mother. As he spoke, he thrust the toy in his hands toward her.
Lin Anqiao looked at her son’s sense of entitlement, and a sharp pang of pain pierced her heart. But she had long since grown numb, and her tone turned cold and distant. "Fu Xiaochuan, do your own chores. I am not your nanny."
She only had three months left, and she wanted to live them for herself. Over these years, she had wasted too much of her life for the sake of the father and son.
She was tired.