The moment he made out what the medicine was, every muscle in Jiang Hansheng’s body snapped rigid, and it was as if he plummeted in an instant from heaven straight into hell.

The fury of having been deceived crashed through his reason. Jiang Hansheng drove his fist into the shoe cabinet with a thunderous bang.

The sudden violent sound jolted Zhou Jin upright from the bed. She hadn’t yet understood what was happening when Jiang Hansheng’s figure bore down on her, pinning her wrists fast beneath him.

All his savagery, his roughness, his barely-contained rage — at the very edge of eruption, he compressed it all into an ice-cold accusation. “You never had any intention of having a child!”

The force of him was brutal. Zhou Jin was shoved back so hard she nearly toppled off the bed entirely, the impact leaving her head spinning. After a long moment, she finally opened her eyes and looked up at Jiang Hansheng.

His eyes were bloodshot and fierce — that expression, as if he hated her enough to kill, genuinely frightened Zhou Jin.

He had not been drinking. This was Jiang Hansheng sober.

In all the time she had known him, Zhou Jin had never seen him like this — every trace of his gentleness and composure stripped away, a cold and ruthless side laid bare, pouring everything onto her without the slightest restraint.

She held her tongue. In the silence that fell between them, only Jiang Hansheng’s rapid, heavy breathing was clearly audible.

He stared at Zhou Jin, and with sharp precision caught the flash of fear and avoidance in her eyes — there and gone in an instant. It was like being startled awake from a dream. He released her abruptly and lurched to his feet, putting as much distance between himself and Zhou Jin as he could.

His right hand trembled involuntarily. The anguish and dread inside him had no outlet — his eyes swept the table and landed on two glass cups sitting side by side, and in one sweeping motion he sent them crashing to the floor.

The shattering of the glass struck more terror into Zhou Jin than a clap of thunder. She instinctively flinched and covered her ears.

Jiang Hansheng didn’t look at her. He pressed his hands against the table, holding himself up, and said, “How could I have ever deluded myself into thinking you would give me a child? Zhou Jin, Zhou Jin… why did we ever get married?”

The rage, not yet fully spent, dissolved into a profound exhaustion. He pressed his hand over his forehead and corrected himself with something like a hollow laugh. “No, that’s wrong — the real question is why I ever proposed to you in the first place…”

He had known all along that she loved someone else. He had known that when Zhou Jin chose to marry him, it was only to honor her parents’ wishes, or to use a new marriage to help herself forget Jiang Cheng.

All of it — he had known it all.

Zhou Jin’s eyes landed on the contraceptive pills on the floor, and a jolt went through her. She pushed herself upright quickly.

She swept the loose strands of hair back from her forehead and forced herself to steady her nerves through the fear.

She gathered her thoughts, then tried to explain to him. “Hansheng, I told you before we were married — until there’s some progress on my brother’s case, I don’t want to have a child yet…”

She got up and moved toward him, reaching from behind to rest her hand on his arm. “Because I have to go out in the field. I can’t be pregnant.”

Jiang Hansheng closed his eyes. The emotions that had reached boiling point gradually began to settle under the effort of Zhou Jin’s gentle tone.

At the same time, something else took their place — a guilt that was thick and nearly suffocating.

Zhou Jin said, “You don’t like using protection, so I’ve been taking the pill all along. I thought that when the time was right, we could think about having a child then.”

She turned him to face her. Her elegant brows, which usually carried a hint of a smile, were now knitted deep.

Zhou Jin said, “Hansheng, I don’t understand why you had to react like that. The way you were just now — it genuinely scared me…”

Jiang Hansheng’s chest rose and fell.

He raised his bloodshot eyes to look at Zhou Jin. Her hair was disheveled, her entire appearance in disarray — perhaps from fear, her breathing had grown faintly rapid.

Her fair skin was covered in the marks he had bitten and kissed into it. The teeth marks on her neck had darkened to a deep red, bruised purple beneath — alarming to look at.

Jiang Hansheng thought to himself — how had he become like this?

“Do you do this often? When you lose control of your emotions — does it turn into violent impulses?”

That had been Zhou Jin’s question to him that day when he had grabbed Yan Bin by the throat and nearly lost all control.

He had made her a solemn promise then: “I won’t hurt you.”

So what was he doing right now?

He clenched his right hand tight. He couldn’t even find the courage to look Zhou Jin in the face.

She had done nothing wrong. He was the one who had been too desperate, too hungry for a child, for something like a complete family. Because at least then — at the very least — Zhou Jin wouldn’t leave him so easily.

And yet he had accused Jiang Bozhi of failing to be a responsible parent. Now, thinking back on it, he was perhaps no different from Jiang Bozhi at all.

He couldn’t master his jealousy or his greed, and he despised himself for being mired in this ugliness with no way out.

There was no one to save him.

And he didn’t want to hurt Zhou Jin any further.

Seeing that his expression was entirely wrong, Zhou Jin let out a slow breath and said to him, “Let’s both take some time to calm down, then come back to this.”

“Zhou Jin.” His voice was thoroughly worn down. In the end, he surrendered, and said quietly, “Let’s get divorced.”

It wasn’t a request. It wasn’t a question. It was a verdict he had handed down upon himself.

Zhou Jin stared at him. “…What?”

Jiang Hansheng chose silence. He stepped past her and walked to the wardrobe, took out a shirt and put it on, then headed toward the front door.

Zhou Jin finally came back to herself. She ran to the door barefoot, stepping on broken glass without caring, and grabbed the handle, crying out, “Explain yourself!”

Her eyes had gone red too, glistening with tears. “Jiang Hansheng — what did you just say?”

Jiang Hansheng wanted to wipe away her tears. His fingers pressed together and released, pressed and released — and in the end, he didn’t move.

He knew exactly how to enrage Zhou Jin, how to make her despise him completely. After a moment of silence, Jiang Hansheng said, “I’ll leave you the apartment and the car.”

As expected, the humiliation of it hit her like a rush of blood to the head. Zhou Jin raised her hand and slapped Jiang Hansheng across the face.

Jiang Hansheng closed his eyes, and stood completely still as she struck him.

The grievance had cut too deep. The tears that had been brimming in Zhou Jin’s eyes spilled over in a sudden rush. She glared at him through gritted teeth. “You are such a bastard.”

She shoved Jiang Hansheng out the front door and slammed it shut behind him.

The light in the entryway dimmed. She leaned against the cabinet, looked out over the wreckage of the apartment around her, and slowly sank down, pulling her knees to her chest. The sobs broke from her openly.

The Provincial Department’s Criminal Research Institute.

It was past eleven at night, yet the light in the director’s office still burned.

Wang Pengzhe had just finished a video call with an old friend abroad, learned what he needed to know, and then put his reading glasses back on and returned to the case files in front of him.

A voice message came in. He opened it and played it — his little granddaughter’s small, soft voice came through. “Why hasn’t Grandpa come to see me yet? How many more bad guys does he have to catch?”

Wang Pengzhe couldn’t help but smile.

Then came another message — his daughter-in-law’s voice. “Dad, you’re nearly at retirement age. How can your body take these hours? Nannian has been asking for you. She refused to go to sleep properly tonight.”

Wang Pengzhe replied, “I’m fine. I know my own body better than anyone. Tell Nannian to get to sleep.”

His daughter-in-law replied again, “Section Chief Zhan’s wife just had her baby. In a couple of days they’re holding the one-month celebration banquet at Longxing Grand Hotel. Dad, Section Chief Zhan has been saying for ages that he’d like you to attend. What do you think — can you make some time to go? The baby is quite adorable.”

Wang Pengzhe said, “I’m not close with anyone in the Information Section. What’s the point of going? Just because his father-in-law is the Provincial Party Secretary, I’m supposed to show up and give him face?… Just send a red envelope on my behalf.”

He paused, then picked up the phone again to add: “Two hundred yuan. Not a penny more.”

Just then, there was a knock at the office door.

Wang Pengzhe’s brow creased. At this hour, the research building should have been long empty — who would come knocking?

His wariness sharpened at once. He first slid all the case files and documents into the desk drawer, then looked around for something within reach that could serve as a weapon. Before he could find anything, he heard a familiar voice from outside the door.

“Teacher.”

Wang Pengzhe was speechless.

He opened the door. There, in the cold of the night, Jiang Hansheng stood beneath the pale wash of the hallway light — wearing only a thin shirt and trousers, and on his feet, a pair of slippers.

In all the years Wang Pengzhe had known him, he had only ever seen Jiang Hansheng impeccably dressed, composed and full of vitality. He had never once seen him show up like this — clothes in disarray, wearing house slippers.

Jiang Hansheng wore no particular expression. He pressed his lips together and said, “Teacher, I think I’ve ruined everything.”

As if Wang Pengzhe didn’t know this student of his well enough by now — without needing to ask, he already knew the matter had something or other to do with Zhou Jin.

He let out a long sigh. “I’m an old man, Hansheng. Can’t you give me a little peace?”