Divorce by Agreement C12

Chapter 12

#She Is Me

Today, once again, I didn’t make it back.

I lazily lifted my eyelids. “I went to find Xie Xuanqing.”

Facing the equally lifeless Xie Zhuo sitting across from me, I said, “He couldn’t tell a story, so I handed him a book and asked him to read from it…”

Xie Zhuo glanced at me, his expression just as lazy and emotionless.

I told him how it ended: “He read me to sleep.”

He finally closed his eyes and sighed.

“How about we just give up?” After trying and failing multiple times, I finally waved the white flag. “Seems like the bond between us back then was unbreakable, a work of fate. Let’s not fight against the heavens anymore.”

Upon hearing this, Xie Zhuo’s eyes snapped open. His lowered head lifted slightly, and in the flickering firelight, his dark pupils locked onto me.

He stared at me, and for some reason, I began to feel a bit uneasy.

Leaning back into my chair to avoid his gaze, I continued,

“Well… I did really like you back then. And you can’t really bring yourself to hurt me now, so this version of you is hard to deal with. As for me, I’m no match for your past self. But your past self did treat me pretty well…”

I rubbed my nose, mumbling, “If this keeps going, I’ll only grow more softhearted toward ‘you’. Today, in that fisheye-lens view, I think you also showed a bit of…”

I sighed. “We got married anyway, and though divorce may not be a happy ending, at least it’s an amicable separation. This bond…”

Before I could finish, Xie Zhuo suddenly stood up.

I was startled, staring at him in shock.

His face was clouded, as if my words had provoked him.

“I’ll do what I must.” His voice was low, reminiscent of that night before we came here, when he held the Pangu Axe and told me coldly he’d kill me.

“I…”

I wanted to ask which part of what I said was wrong. Why was he suddenly angry? Was it that he didn’t want to admit he had any tenderness for the me of the past?

Or…

Did he not think our divorce was really an “amicable parting”?

“Tomorrow,” he interrupted me, clearly uninterested in anything I had to say. “You’re going to steal his necklace.”

“Necklace?”

I glanced at Xie Zhuo’s neck.

Around it was a black cord. I knew there was a white stone that glowed faintly blue hanging from it, though he always kept it tucked under his clothes. I could only see the tiny bit of cord peeking out from his collar.

He’d worn that necklace since we met. I once asked him what it was, and he only said it was something very important to him—his past and his burden.

Xie Zhuo never talked about his past. I didn’t even know what kind of demon he was. That stone was the only clue he ever gave, suggesting his past wasn’t so pleasant.

This demon of mine had no real vices—he didn’t crave money or beauty, wasn’t lazy or gluttonous, and even when we “argued,” he rarely got angry. The only thing he truly treasured was that stone.

And now, he wanted me to steal it from Xie Xuanqing tomorrow?

He was really going all in on this.

I shook my head. “Not going.”

Xie Zhuo frowned, his gaze growing even colder.

Still, I stubbornly refused. “That thing means so much to you. If I steal it, won’t you kill me? My life matters. I’m not going.”

“I won’t kill you.”

“You won’t kill me now. Doesn’t mean your past self won’t.”

“He won’t kill you either.”

I still shook my head and blurted out what I’d come to realize over the past few days: “You don’t understand yourself.”

Xie Zhuo took a deep breath. “I’m certain.”

He said, “Now, no matter which version of me it is—none of us would hurt you. Not one.”

I stared at him, momentarily stunned.

His certainty was so strong that it sent a warm rush through my chest…

I quickly looked away, suppressing the surge of emotion in my heart.

Only when I was sure my expression was neutral again did I look back at him and speak,

“If you’re absolutely sure…”

I gritted my teeth and agreed. “Then I’ll bet one last time.”

Upon hearing my answer, Xie Zhuo showed no reaction, only gave a slight nod before turning and returning to his room.

I looked at his tightly shut door, confused. We were talking fine just now—why did he suddenly get so upset…

Does he really hate hearing me mention the divorce that much?

The next morning, I yawned as I stepped out, only to bump into Xie Zhuo who was also coming out of his room.

He didn’t greet me, just poured himself a cup of water, drank it, then turned and left without a word.

“Hey? You’re going to find Xiaxia already?” I called to his back. “Remember to show me how the battle’s going—”

Before I could finish, his figure had already disappeared beyond the snowy bamboo courtyard.

I pouted. Oh well. We’re basically divorced now. Whether this “Sever the Bond” succeeds or not, we’ll be going our separate ways.

I took a deep breath, patted my cheeks to wake myself up. Since I was going to do something dangerous today, I figured I should come up with a plan first.

I had just sat down, still racking my brains while holding a pen, when suddenly I saw through Xie Zhuo’s perspective.

The scene was familiar—it was the immortal residence I’d lived in alone five hundred years ago.

He actually went straight there to find Xiaxia? That eager?

Xie Zhuo navigated the place like he knew it well, heading straight to “my” inner chamber. Xiaxia was inside, sitting at the dining table. She was holding a bowl of porridge, inspecting it. When she saw Xie Zhuo walk in, she looked a bit surprised.

“Huh? What are you doing here?”

Xie Zhuo didn’t answer.

Thinking about the cold look on his face when he left earlier, I instinctively pouted.

Such a temper…

Xiaxia also noticed something was off with him, but didn’t ask. She just smiled and broke the awkwardness by lifting the bowl of porridge in her hands.

“Perfect timing! Yesterday, the catfish spirit gave me a big Kunlun Lingzhi as compensation. I made porridge with it and was going to bring it over to you today…”

Before she could finish, the porridge bowl she held out toward Xie Zhuo was slapped away by him.

Through his eyes, I clearly saw that he hadn’t touched Xiaxia’s hand—he only struck the edge of the bowl. But this was porridge meant for him. How steady could she be holding it?

There was a loud crack as the bowl shattered on the floor, spilling the porridge into a mess.

Caught off guard, Xiaxia stared at the mess, stunned.

After a long pause, she finally turned to look at Xie Zhuo.

“Xie Xuanqing!” Through his perspective, I saw her face shift from shocked to confused, then to inexplicable anger. “What’s your problem?!”

Xie Zhuo didn’t respond immediately.

Xiaxia’s expression grew even more furious.

Then he spoke.

“Smells… disgusting…”

Four words, each one cold and distinct.

Xiaxia asked, “Do you even know what you’re saying!?”

Surprisingly, Xie Zhuo replied, “I do…”

Xiaxia’s tone started to change. Her angry voice cracked, turning into something aggrieved. But she still forced herself to keep up appearances, refusing to show weakness. “I made this for you, especially!”

“I don’t want it.”

“Xie Xuanqing!”

Xiaxia stared at Xie Zhuo.

All this time, we’d been courting disaster just to see some kind of emotion from her—and now, we finally did.

Turns out, it wasn’t that hard after all.

There’s no such thing as someone too aloof, too open-hearted, or too unbreakable. It’s just that the one wielding the knife hadn’t cut deep enough yet…

But now… the one with the knife was going all in.

Xie Zhuo said, “The porridge and you—I want neither.”

That sentence hit Xiaxia like a blow. She stared at him blankly, her lips trembling, her eyes turning red. Her body instinctively began taking deep breaths.

She was hurting. Trying desperately to control her emotions. She didn’t want to break down crying at a moment when she should’ve been angry.

But she was on the verge.

She felt so wronged—so wronged it was like someone had punched her in the gut. It hurt so bad she wanted to curl up into a ball.

I could predict her emotions. I could even pinpoint the exact moment her tears would fall. I knew her too well—so well it started to hurt me too.

Because…

She is me.

This taste, this scene—I’ve been through it myself, during our five hundred years of marriage…

And sure enough, in the next moment, she cried.

Tears rolled down her cheeks one by one. But she still pressed her lips tightly together, stubbornly staring at Xie Zhuo.

That look in her eyes—every second, it asked the same question: Why are you hurting me?

Xie Zhuo looked away.

He avoided it, then turned and left.

Before Xie Zhuo cut off our connection, I didn’t hear Xiaxia call out his name.

I knew exactly what “I” was thinking. Yes, she still liked him. But pride and dignity mattered too.

I closed my eyes and took a moment. After calming down a little, I opened them again and looked toward the snowy bamboo grove outside. My mind was clearer than it had ever been since coming here.

Alright, Xie Zhuo. The games are over.

You’re the one who got serious first.