In Ziyuan District, Zhao Ziming’s home was here. Zhao Ziming hadn’t gone to work for over a week now, and his phone was unreachable. As one of Ye Feng’s few good friends, Ye Feng decided to visit Zhao Ziming’s home to see what had happened.
If Zhao Ziming could handle it by himself, that would naturally be the best.
A few minutes ago, in apartment 1602, building 7 of Ziyuan District, amidst the relatively luxurious living room, chaos reigned. A man with a face full of beard and the epitome of dejection sat on the floor of the living room. Surrounding him were bottles of alcohol everywhere.
Beer, spirits, red wine—the empty bottles of various kinds were piled around the man, who was holding a bottomed-out beer bottle in his hands. He drained it all at once, but it wasn’t satisfying enough, so he began searching for more drinks.
"Clatter clatter~~" The man was extremely angry, realizing all the alcohol was finished. He violently threw the bottle in his hand, which shattered into pieces upon hitting the floor.
"Bastard! Bastard! Nothing goes my way, not even the alcohol lets me drink to my heart’s content!" the man yelled, then randomly picked up a half-smoked cigarette from the ground, lit it, and took a deep drag, his face showing complete collapse.
This man was none other than Zhao Ziming, who hadn’t gone to work in over a week.
Just then, the door opened, and three men and one woman walked toward the living room.
Seeing the disordered state of the living room, all four showed expressions of disgust, their faces filled with contempt for Zhao Ziming.
The leader of the three men was an arrogant and handsome young man with an impressive demeanor, standing at 1.85 meters tall.
And the woman, with her delicate features, prominent facial structure, and fair skin, dressed in professional attire, exuded the aura of a career-oriented strong woman—it was Zhao Ziming’s wife, Feng Yuanyuan.
Upon seeing Feng Yuanyuan, the already dejected Zhao Ziming suddenly had a sharp look in his eyes. His heart was incredibly complicated, filled with anger and reluctance, along with a concealed affection.
The haughty and handsome young man looked coldly at Zhao Ziming, his eyes showing contempt, "Yuanyuan, so this is that waste of a husband of yours. No, I should say ex-husband now. You belong to me already!"
Feng Yuanyuan looked coldly at Zhao Ziming, "Indeed, a waste. When I’m not at home, you actually manage to turn the house into this. It seems my decision to leave such an ambitionless man was the right choice."
Zhao Ziming’s eyes instantly turned bloodshot, "It’s you, you bastard who stole my wife!"
The arrogant young man looked at Zhao Ziming with disdain, "No no no, you’re mistaken. What do you mean I stole your wife? It’s because you weren’t good enough to keep her. A bird chooses the tree it will nest in, and she made the correct choice in choosing me."
"Bastard! I’ll kill you!" Zhao Ziming fell into madness, standing up and grabbing a beer bottle to violently throw at the arrogant young man.
Seeing this, Feng Yuanyuan cried out anxiously, "Han Yu, watch out!"
Hearing Feng Yuanyuan’s words, the beer bottle Zhao Ziming was about to hit Han Yu with stopped mid-flight, his hand went limp, and the bottle fell to the ground, shattering. Zhao Ziming felt as if his heart was being ripped apart, like a spike was piercing and threading through it ceaselessly.
He had been dating Feng Yuanyuan since their university days, and now, after getting married, seven years had passed.
Yet just now, Feng Yuanyuan hadn’t been worrying about him but instead was concerned about that arrogant young man named Han Yu.
"Bastard! You’re looking for death, daring to lay a hand on our young master!" The young bodyguard behind Han Yu roared in anger and fiercely kicked Zhao Ziming in the stomach. The sheer power of the kick sent Zhao Ziming flying.
A distinct imprint of a leather shoe appeared on Zhao Ziming’s clothes.
In that moment, Zhao Ziming felt his stomach churn violently, almost throwing up.
Zhao Ziming forced himself to endure, to not throw up; he didn’t want to make a further spectacle of himself, to give this despicable pair even more reason to look down on him.
Zhao Ziming covered his stomach, knelt on the ground, and trembled continuously, his eyes showing the color of pain.
Seeing Zhao Ziming in such a wretched state, Feng Yuanyuan didn’t show a trace of concern; on the contrary, she seemed even more contemptuous, "What a loser, you even dared to make a move. If you really did something to Han Yu, you’d better be prepared to go to jail!"
Zhao Ziming was unable to finish speaking, at a loss for how to describe the pain in his heart at that moment.
Feng Yuanyuan took out a divorce agreement from her bag and threw it in front of Zhao Ziming, "This is our divorce agreement, sign it quickly. Once it’s signed, we’ll go to the Civil Affairs Bureau and get a divorce!"
In an instant, Zhao Ziming collapsed, tears streaming down, "Yuanyuan, don’t leave me, what about our son if you go? I love you, I really love you!"
Feng Yuanyuan’s face was full of disgust, "Zhao Ziming, are you even a man? It’s just a divorce, what’s there to be sad about? You even have the shame to cry, isn’t that disgraceful? A big man like you, can’t you live without me? After our divorce, you’ll get one million, and the house will be yours. Isn’t that enough?"
Zhao Ziming’s heart ached unbearably; he never expected a woman could be so heartless.
The company Ye Feng had given him, everything that came with it, was worth at least a hundred million, but Feng Yuanyuan had used special methods to transfer assets, giving up not only their son but also leaving only one percent for him.
"Feng Yuanyuan! Don’t forget everything you have now was given to you by me. Do you really have to go this far?"
Love for Feng Yuanyuan in Zhao Ziming’s heart was momentarily replaced by anger, his eyes bloodshot as he glared at her angrily.
Feng Yuanyuan sneered coldly, "It’s because you let me manage the company that I realized I was never meant to be a housewife. Business, management—that’s what I should be doing. Look at yourself, how do you compare to Han Yu? Han Yu is the scion of a wealthy Longdu family, even a random bodyguard under him is a Martial Artist with an annual salary of tens of millions. And you? You’re just a loser! Even with money, you’re still a loser. How could I, Feng Yuanyuan, a top graduate of the Business College, spend my life with a nobody like you!"
Every word from Feng Yuanyuan was like a barbed spear, wounding Zhao Ziming deeply. This pain was far more unbearable than any physical suffering, more excruciating to withstand.
"You shameless wretch! If you want a divorce that’s fine, but return my money and the company to me!" Zhao Ziming exploded in anger.