Chapter 4 Our Marriage

  I remember the wedding night, he calmly told her, "I'm very busy, if there's nothing important, I might not come back. However, my parents are waiting to hold their grandchild, you calculate your ovulation period every month and schedule an appointment with my secretary."

  So he only came back on the night of the eighth day of each month, spent a passionate night with her, and left after dawn. Such a marriage lasted for three years, and in those three years, they were together for only forty-eight nights. Zhan Yan felt like a sorrowful concubine in an ancient imperial harem, foolishly waiting for his arrival, but lost hope in the endless darkness and waiting.

  Ji Weiyan came out of the bathroom and found Xian Yan lying on the bed, motionless, only leaving him a thin back.

  She felt him collapse beside her, the mattress sinking deeply, and the scent of clean soap wafting through the air.

  In the darkness, a familiar large palm stroked her smooth skin with abandon, cold and invasive, crawling up along her flat lower abdomen.

  "Do we have to? I don't want to today." She suddenly pressed his hand down, coldly refusing.

  His arm was trapped around her waist, his warm chest pressed against her icy back. "Why?" he asked emotionlessly.

  "I'm not feeling well today." She said casually, but in the next moment, his thick palm had already covered her head.

  "I don't have a fever, I'm just a bit tired." She pulled his hand down from her forehead.

  "Mm." He hummed a nasal sound and turned over. Before long, his breathing gradually subsided.

  She finally let out a sigh of relief, perhaps this was the only good thing about this man, she rarely said 'no' to him, but whenever she did, he never forced her to do anything, including making love.

  Her head was aching, and she woke up in the middle of the night to find that the position beside her was empty. However, she saw his jacket still on the sofa, so he hadn't left.

  She sat quietly on the bed, through the slightly ajar door, and heard from the direction of the balcony a man's gentle voice, "Is there anywhere that still feels uncomfortable? Good girl, I'll be back tomorrow to accompany you..."

  Zhan Yan's hands grasped the thin quilt on her body tightly, she wanted to rush out and loudly ask him, "Ji Weiyan, what does our marriage mean to you?"

  But she can't. Some things, once torn apart, mean they will be lost forever. Now, this marriage is the only thing she has left, and she can't afford to lose it.

  The eastern sky has just revealed a pale white color.

  Zhan Yan almost didn't sleep all night, she fumbled her way into the bathroom, and in the mirror reflected a pale and haggard face. She bitterly smiled, her fingertips pressed against her throbbing temples, while her other hand went to grab the foundation liquid, but her fingers slipped, and with a "pa" sound, the glass bottle slid out of her palm and shattered all over the floor.

  She hastily bent down to pick it up, and her fingertips felt a sharp pain. The sharp glass shard ruthlessly cut open a not-so-shallow wound on her palm, and blood gushed out instantly. "Ah!" She helplessly sat down on the ground, burying her face in her knees, her shoulders shaking, and tears inexplicably flowed down, carrying unspeakable grievances.

  What did she do wrong? Why does everyone bully her, even a glass bottle can't get along with her.