After Divorce: Why My Aloof Ex Starts Chasing Me?-Chapter 68 Give Up All Hope

Shen Qingqing didn’t want to spoil the elders’ appetite. She held it in, over and over, restraining her impulse to get up and leave.

Even though the atmosphere was unpleasant, as long as she didn’t drop her chopsticks and walk out, the others could continue eating.

In the past, everyone’s evaluation of Shen Qingqing was that she had a good temper, was beautiful, and well-educated.

But this time back at the compound, everyone in the Jiang Family clearly sensed that Shen Qingqing was different than before.

Madam Jiang secretly broke into a cold sweat.

Qingqing was now impervious to persuasion, refusing even to give face to the elders. Would she really change her mind?

It wasn’t until the meal was over that Shen Qingqing finally felt a sense of relief.

Her left arm was still in a sling, so she couldn’t do the dishes, and the chore fell to Jiang Zhixun.

The old man urged her to go upstairs and rest. "You’ve traveled such a long way; you must be tired. Get a good night’s sleep, and tomorrow morning accompany Grandpa for a walk in the compound."

Every time Shen Qingqing came back to the compound, she would either play chess with the old man or take him out for a stroll.

Although some people in the compound whispered about her behind her back, Shen Qingqing never hid at home and avoided going out.

What had happened was already done, and apart from facing reality, she had no other choice.

She couldn’t very well weep and wail, or chase Jiang Zhixun off to the Northwest and beg him to live with her.

"Tomorrow morning, Jiang Zhixun and I have an errand to run. After we finish, I’ll accompany you on your walk."

What errands could the two of them possibly have? It wasn’t hard to guess.

The old man fell silent for a few seconds, then waved his hand. "Go upstairs and rest."

His tone carried a trace of helplessness and regret.

Shen Qingqing picked up on it.

If she could, she didn’t want to let the elder down, but this matter really left no room for negotiation.

After greeting Father Jiang and Madam Jiang, Shen Qingqing went upstairs.

She passed by the room near the stairs with its door wide open.

Inside, it was still desolate, just a bed frame without any boards.

Jiang Zhixun’s clothes and luggage were casually strewn about.

Just like Jiang Zhixun had said—this was his home; there was no way he wouldn’t have a place to sleep. Shen Qingqing didn’t concern herself with it.

She went to her room to grab a change of clothes and headed to the bathroom.

Her wound couldn’t be exposed to water, but she could still wash other parts of her body.

After three days on the train without a bath or a change of clothes, if she didn’t freshen up, she’d start despising herself.

The master bedroom was tidied immaculately. The sheets and quilt covers had been washed recently and smelled of soap.

If she didn’t shower before lying down, Shen Qingqing genuinely couldn’t tolerate it.

She grabbed her nightgown and towel and headed to the bathroom, where Madam Jiang had already prepared all the toiletries in advance.

Shen Qingqing planned to wash her hair first and then wipe her body.

Although using just one arm was inconvenient, the sink’s height was just right, and once she turned on the faucet, she could rinse directly.

It wasn’t ideal, but it was better than not washing at all.

Downstairs.

After finishing the dishes, Jiang Zhixun asked Madam Jiang, "Where did the bedboards and quilts go?"

Madam Jiang feigned ignorance. "Didn’t I already make the beds for you two?"

"Mom!"

Jiang Zhixun’s tone grew heavier, his thin lips pressed tightly together, clearly indicating he was already upset.

Shen Qingqing wanted a divorce, and yet they were still supposed to share a room?

Anyone with a shred of self-respect wouldn’t do something this shameless!

Madam Jiang shot back irritably, "What are you shouting for? Neither of you even comes home. I took apart the bedboards, and the quilts aren’t washed or aired."

"Anyway, you won’t be staying longer than a month. Once her arm heals, Qingqing probably won’t come back, so why bother?"

Jiang Zhixun had a headache and reminded her, "We’re getting divorced." freewebnσvel.cѳm

"But you haven’t divorced yet, have you?"

That one sentence nearly choked Jiang Zhixun.

He knew the elders didn’t want him and Shen Qingqing to divorce, and he had even called home, asking for their help in resolving the issue.

But not like this.

Forcing Shen Qingqing to share a room with him, knowing full well she didn’t want to—that wasn’t just unreasonable, it was downright improper!

Frowning, he relented. "Fine, I’ll sleep on the floor or go stay at a hostel outside."

Madam Jiang glared at him in frustration. "I’ve worked tirelessly to help you, and this is how you repay me?"

"But you can’t force it."

"You’re married! How is that forcing it?"

Everyone says arguments at the head of the bed can be resolved at the foot. If you keep your distance whenever there’s tension, how can the relationship ever warm back up?

No one’s saying you have to do anything drastic.

Just stay in the same room as your wife—pour her tea, help her get dressed, comb her hair, and so on.

Qingqing’s arm is still in a sling. Isn’t this the perfect opportunity to make a good impression?

Jiang Zhixun conceded with some resignation. "If the woman doesn’t agree, it counts as forcing it."

He could take care of Shen Qingqing, but now that they were home, sharing a room was undoubtedly inappropriate.

Unless she called for him, he wouldn’t step into the marital bedroom.

Madam Jiang knew Jiang Zhixun’s temper well—sometimes, he was as stubborn as a mule.

Softening her tone, she reasoned, "Isn’t there a sofa in the room? Sleep there. If Qingqing feels unwell, you can respond right away."

Jiang Zhixun was a tall, broad-shouldered man, and the sofa in the bedroom wasn’t exactly spacious or comfortable for sleeping.

Madam Jiang felt bad for her son but also recognized that this was a time for compromise, for enduring hardship if necessary.

It was better than losing his wife altogether.

Fearing he’d object again, she cut him off. "Qingqing is injured. What else can you do? Don’t overthink it. Mom just wants you to take good care of her."

Her blunt words made Jiang Zhixun feel uncomfortable.

Before Shen Qingqing brought up divorce, he had entertained thoughts of having children with her.

When preparing himself mentally for it, he had even fantasized about some less-than-innocent scenarios...

Clearing his throat awkwardly, he said, "I’ll sleep in the room next door. I can hear if something happens."

"What do you think you are, some kind of bat? There’s a whole wall in between!"

Recently, Jiang Zhixun had been caring for Shen Qingqing the entire time.

He knew better than anyone what her situation was like.

With her arm in a sling, it was somewhat inconvenient.

But she rarely got up at night, so having someone there to assist her wasn’t a necessity.

Jiang Zhixun had already set aside his pride, trying time and time again to please Shen Qingqing.

But she wasn’t responding.

His current mindset was to just get it over with—if she wanted a divorce, then fine, a divorce it would be.

If they kept dragging it out, people who didn’t know better might think he couldn’t live without Shen Qingqing.

Glaring at his mother, he asked one last time, "Are you sure you won’t give me the bedding?"

Even when Shen Qingqing and Jiang Zhixun weren’t home, Madam Jiang would regularly clean and air the sheets and blankets.

She worried that if they suddenly returned, there wouldn’t be a clean place for them to sleep.

The bed in the marital room had already been made.

There were also two spare sets of bedding, which Madam Jiang had stored in her room.

Even the bedboards had been disassembled and hidden in the courtyard.

She had planned for the young couple to return, sleep under the same blanket, and mend their relationship.

But her good intentions had been unappreciated by either of them.

One was adamant about divorce.

The other refused to compromise his principles.

As an "outsider," no matter how much effort Madam Jiang put in, it was all for naught!

One look at her son’s expression, and she knew that if she didn’t hand over the bedding, this boy would really sleep on the floor!

He wasn’t made of iron—on a night this cold, he’d catch his death out there.

She shot him a glare. "Wait here."

Heading toward the bedroom, she muttered under her breath, "I must be cursed, worrying myself sick over you!"

Jiang Zhixun called out again, "Where’s the bedboard?"

Madam Jiang snapped back, "You don’t have eyes? Find it yourself!"

Jiang Zhixun rubbed his nose and turned to leave. Such a big bedboard—it could only be hidden in the courtyard.