Divorce by Agreement C11

Chapter 11

#Off Track Again

Once more, Xie Zhuo and I sat across from each other by candlelight, limp as two dead fish slumped in our chairs.

Whatever Xia Xia had taken him to do today, judging by his expression, I couldn’t even be bothered to ask.

“This can’t go on,” I sat up straight, rallying for who knows the how many-th time.

But Xie Zhuo didn’t. He leaned back in his chair, dazed, lost in thought.

I knocked on a clear spot on his desk, which was cluttered with trinkets. “Pull yourself together! You can’t keep going on like this! Are we still breaking off this ill-fated romance or not?”

That lit a spark in Xie Zhuo’s eyes. He sat up and looked at me, answering firmly, “Yes, we are…”

Still got some fight in him—good.

“Tomorrow.” For once, he spoke first, offering a suggestion. “Stick to him, get him to tell you stories…”

“Pointless.” I waved a hand, cutting him off. “He won’t get annoyed just because I’m bothering his rest…” Just mentioning it ticked me off a bit. “Do you even know yourself? How could you get angry over something like that? Are you even self-aware? Are you some kind of holy monk?”

As always, Xie Zhuo ignored my rant. “Get him to tell you a story.”

How fresh.

Xie Zhuo wanted his past self to tell me a story, and thought that would somehow make him mad.

“You sure about that?” I eyed him skeptically. “Aren’t your triggers a bit too niche? What, does talking hurt you?”

Xie Zhuo’s lips pressed into a line. He didn’t bother arguing. “Try it…”

I shook my head, convinced he didn’t know himself at all. What a ridiculous idea—and yet, somehow, he came up with it. I directly pulled out the Yin-Yang fish at my waist. “I’ve got a better idea.”

Xie Zhuo raised a brow, clearly dubious about my use of the word better.

“We’re changing strategy. I’m guessing tomorrow Xie Xuanqing still won’t be able to stand up. So for now, we’ll ignore him. I’ll focus all my energy on helping you wreck my own mindset. Using this.” I pressed the white fish’s eye.

The black fish on Xie Zhuo’s belt twitched.

“Take it out, come on.” I directed him. “I’m gonna modify it.” I started fiddling with the gadget in my hand. “Originally, this was just for voice communication. But since you’re not the talkative type, it’s a waste. I’m going to tweak its internal formation structure. That way…”

I handed him the black fish. “Its eye will let me see what’s happening around you, and it’ll stream the image to me in real time.”

I tapped the black fish’s eye twice. It lit up, and the white fish I held began to glow. A palm-sized image appeared in the air before me—my current self, from the black fish’s point of view.

“One tap sends voice, two taps sends video. Whoever taps first shares their perspective. If we both tap, we can see each other’s surroundings.”

I finished my explanation and looked smugly at Xie Zhuo.

“Well? With this, I can sit right here in this room tomorrow, commanding from afar, winning battles against my past self from a thousand miles away!”

I couldn’t help admiring myself, letting out a sigh. “I’m such a genius.”

Xie Zhuo gave me a look, then—without saying a word—dug the black fish’s eye out.

I was stunned. “You…”

Before I could finish, he snatched the white fish from my hands too, gouged out its eye, and without consulting me, pressed the black fish’s eye to his right earlobe. The black fish dissolved into a wisp of vapor, leaving behind a small black dot on his ear. Then, without hesitation, he pressed the white fish’s eye to my left earlobe.

A white dot appeared on my ear as well.

“What the hell are you doing!?”

“This is more convenient.” Xie Zhuo tapped his right ear. In an instant, an image invaded my mind—his current view of me, frozen and stupefied. His voice echoed directly in my head, “No weak points.”

I shook my head to adjust to the strange sensation of my consciousness being directly invaded.

This monster…

He either does nothing at all, or goes all out like this…

“Fine. This works too.” I told Xie Zhuo. “Tomorrow, you activate this thing, and I’ll guide you every step of the way. I swear, we’ll make sure I’m so pissed I’ll never want to see your face again for eternity.”

“Let’s hope so.”

Those four words rang out both in my ears and in my mind.

I quickly waved him off. “Turn it off, turn it off, now. Seriously, shut it down.”

Xie Zhuo tapped his ear again, then stood and returned to his room.

The next morning, I saw him off like a general sending a soldier to war, handing him a bowl of melted snow I’d dug from the lingering snow in the Bamboo Grove. “Xie Zhuo, it all comes down to this. Follow my orders carefully.”

Xie Zhuo glanced at the bowl, ignored me completely, and walked off.

Totally expected. I wasn’t even mad. I shouted after his retreating back, “Just do what I say! Don’t have your own ideas! Be a proper tool! Remember! Tool!”

Back in my room, I sat upright, fully focused.

I’d had Xie Zhuo pack up all the little gadgets on the table and take them in his spatial pouch. That way, once he met Xia Xia, I’d have plenty of chances to instruct him to smash things as needed.

Not long after, the white dot on my ear lit up, and a scene suddenly appeared in my mind. Xie Zhuo wasn’t in the frame—just me from five hundred years ago. From his perspective, I looked… kinda short.

I’d gotten used to Xie Zhuo towering over me, so I never noticed. But from his eyes, being a head shorter made me look… strangely protective…

Not that I needed his protection or anything…

No, no, focus!

The point was—they were at the market again.

Buying things again!?

I clutched my chest, heart aching. Five hundred years ago, I’d clearly treated Xie Zhuo way too well.

I tapped my ear. “Tell her you don’t want it.”

Tool Xie Zhuo spoke up: “I don’t want it…”

Xia Xia froze. “But… I didn’t bring you here to shop today.”

Awkward…

“Quick, follow up! Say you meant the stuff from before.”

Learning from the last blunder, Xie Zhuo thought for a moment and deemed it safe to say. “The stuff from before—I don’t want it.”

Xia Xia blinked. “Which one from before?”

“Quick!” I ordered. “Just pull a few out and smash them.”

Xie Zhuo hesitated again. I could hear his breath grow slightly heavier. Then he reached into his pouch, pulled out a bamboo dragonfly toy, and—without warning—smashed it on the ground.

Crack!

It shattered.

He threw it so hard, and I felt so thrilled!

He did it! He actually did it! He stood up for himself!

“Ah!” As expected, Xia Xia gasped in shock.

Xie Zhuo’s gaze moved from the shattered toy to her face. Her expression shifted from blankness, to confusion, to fury.

Yes. This was it.

Our plan was finally back on track!

My heart was filled with joy.

Xiaxia picked up the shattered bamboo dragonfly, let out an angry huff, and snapped, “Ha! I knew that catfish spirit on West Second Street couldn’t be trusted! Daring to use an ordinary bamboo dragonfly and pass it off as a minor immortal artifact to fool me!”

Hmm!?

Xiaxia gripped the bamboo dragonfly in her hand, looked up at Xie Zhuo, and softened her anger, offering comfort: “I was tricked too. I didn’t mean to give you fake stuff. Don’t be mad.”

Off track again. Totally off the rails.

Xie Zhuo was silent.

I stayed silent too.

Xiaxia continued, “Let’s go find that catfish spirit and settle this! How dare he scam me out of a spirit stone! If I don’t flip his stall today, I’m not called Laozi!”

I watched the past version of myself through Xie Zhuo’s eyes—storming off full of righteous fury—and just felt… tired.

Fighting the heavens, the earth, nothing wore me out like fighting myself in this moment.

“Stop her!” I refused to give up, still offering ideas. “Don’t let her leave! Dump everything from your spatial pouch on the ground.”

Xie Zhuo stepped forward and blocked Xiaxia’s path.

“What is it?” Xiaxia asked him.

Xie Zhuo took a heavy breath.

He pulled out his spatial pouch, opened it, and poured everything out.

I kept instructing: “Say you don’t want any of it.”

“I… don’t want any of it.”

But Xiaxia was already consumed by the bitterness of losing a spirit stone. She squatted down in front of the pile and started rummaging through it. “Right, we should check everything. There might be more fakes in here. If so, we have to go exchange them fast—once too much time passes, they won’t admit anything! Of course we can’t keep defective stuff like this!”

Xie Zhuo stood to the side.

I looked at the scene in his mind and leaned silently against the back of my chair.

“Just kick me in the forehead,” I couldn’t take it anymore.

“No,” said Xie Zhuo.

Xiaxia looked up, confused. “Huh? What’s not okay?”

“Yell at her!” I slammed the table. “Tell her all the stuff she bought is cheap junk! Total trash!”

Xiaxia, still squatting, looked up at Xie Zhuo. Her face froze in the scene for a long moment. Then Xie Zhuo finally spoke.

“The stuff you bought is no good.” He shortened my words to the extreme.

Xiaxia stared blankly at him.

For some reason, Xie Zhuo’s gaze shifted sideways.

And then—he got beat up.

The mental image shook. Xiaxia’s fists and feet rained down on his arms and legs.

“I buy you things and you complain! When I ask you to choose, you refuse! It’s not even your spirit stone—why do you care so much?!”

I didn’t get a single word in. Xie Zhuo, as always, avoided “my” attacks, and Xiaxia, still fuming, picked up the bamboo dragonfly from the ground. “So what if I accidentally got a fake trying to save money! You didn’t have to say it like that! I’m so mad! That catfish spirit dared to make me lose face—Laozi is definitely flipping his stall today!”

The “me” in the memory, as usual, gave Xie Zhuo no chance to explain and ran off.

But I probably wasn’t seriously mad to the point of cutting off all ties with Xie Zhuo. Most likely I’d scam a little something out of that catfish spirit and then come back to thank Xie Zhuo for spotting the fake…

I tapped my earlobe three times and ended the call with Xie Zhuo.

Patting my chest, I took a deep breath.

No more watching. I might actually die from my own frustration.

I’d better go find Xie Xuanqing and see if he could tell me a story instead.

————

Laozi (also known as Lao Tzu) is a legendary figure in Chinese philosophy, traditionally regarded as the founder of Taoism. He is often attributed as the author of the Tao Te Ching (道德经), a central text of Taoist philosophy. Laozi’s teachings emphasize living in harmony with the Tao (道), which can be understood as the fundamental principle that is the source of all life and the universe. His philosophy promotes simplicity, humility, and non-action (wu wei), advocating for a life of balance and naturalness.

Laozi is believed to have lived during the 6th century BCE, though his historical existence is debated, and much of his life is shrouded in myth. His ideas have had a profound influence on Chinese culture and beyond, shaping not only Taoism but also aspects of Chinese Buddhism and Confucianism.