GEGBWFS 21

Ye Xianyun was hardworking and meticulous. When Zhong Lu said to check everywhere, he even lifted the bedsheets, folded them casually over his wrist, and in just a few quick moves, placed them neatly on the chair.

He figured divorcing someone like Huo Zhehan, the head of a powerful family, wouldn’t be easy. A businessman never acts without profit—if there was no gain in marrying Zhong Lu, would Huo Zhehan have so readily given up a precious page of his household registration? And if there was gain, why would he let go so easily?

He helped Zhong Lu tidy up a bit more, hoping the divorce with Huo Zhehan would go a little more smoothly.

Zhong Lu turned around and saw Ye Xianyun even folding the pillowcases. “We’re throwing those in the washer later, there’s no need to bother.”

There weren’t many drawers in the master bedroom. Zhong Lu pulled all of them open and most of them were filled with books, too many to take.

The two of them turned the bedroom upside down.

High-speed rail station.

Lu Ziming was driving, and Huo Zhehan sat in the passenger seat, when a sudden sense of unease crept over him.

“Did they contact you before they got on the train?”

“No.” Lu Ziming had been busy until seven and had only remembered he was supposed to pick up his boyfriend. It wasn’t until Huo Zhehan brought it up that he realized—this is a train, not a plane, it’s not like they couldn’t make a phone call. The train was almost at the station now, so why hadn’t Ye Xianyun called even once to confirm someone would be there to pick them up?

Acting on a hunch, Huo Zhehan pulled up the surveillance footage. Ninety minutes ago, Zhong Lu and Ye Xianyun had appeared at the villa gate. Half an hour after that, a courier had dropped off two large suitcases.

Huo Zhehan: “…”

With suitcases that big, if they weren’t planning to hide a secret lover, then they were packing up to run.

He couldn’t quite understand it—run? Had he already saved up enough to pay the breach-of-contract penalty?

Huo Zhehan: “Lu Ziming, I suspect you deliberately tricked me into coming to the train station.”

While the back door was being cleaned out in a joint effort, he was still here waiting for a high-speed train that didn’t even have Zhong Lu on it.

Lu Ziming felt wronged—being the working stiff whose own boyfriend talked the boss’s wife into running away from home was just too much.

He backed up, made a turn, and drove under the speed limit, taking the grim-faced President Huo back home.

Vice President Lu would’ve loved to avoid the President showing early signs of rage, but since Ye Xianyun was still inside, he had no choice but to follow Huo Zhehan into the villa. It had been two months since his last visit, and the place had completely changed—honestly, it was impressive that President Huo could still leave for work every day dressed so immaculately.

Soft voices and the sound of furniture being moved drifted from the master bedroom. It was clear they were determined to wipe away all traces of Zhong Lu.

Huo Zhehan headed upstairs, loosening his tie with his index and middle fingers. As he turned to the corner, he saw the wide-open bedroom door, the emptied-out double-door wardrobe, and two fully packed suitcases on the floor.

The educator was struggling to close one of the suitcases, beads of sweat gathering on his forehead.

Huo Zhehan felt a wave of frustration and helplessness that went deeper than having a contract torn up. It was like throwing the full weight of the company behind a new project, only to have it suddenly grow legs and walk off.

The actual loss was limited, but it had clearly fallen far short of his grand expectations.

As a president, he ought to cut his losses in time and clean up the mess.

Huo Zhehan said sharply, “Come out. We need to talk.”

Zhong Lu’s ears perked up—Huo Zhehan was back. The most critical battle of the divorce was about to begin. Earlier that day, he had gotten Ye Xianyun’s wages from Mother Ye. That tiny victory had kept his blood buzzing all afternoon, like a little victory flag waving in his chest.

He walked out calmly, face tightening into a frosty expression. “Oh. You’re back.”

Huo Zhehan had no idea what Zhong Lu was so arrogant about. The heat of his attitude felt like it was scorching Huo Zhehan’s own scalp. His throat was dry as he stared at Zhong Lu’s flushed cheeks, red from excitement, and took a deep breath.

Like a little hedgehog clutching an apple—Huo Zhehan didn’t want to expose his own soft underbelly in front of subordinates, or drag out their messy, frustrating prenuptial agreement to clash over again.

“To the study.”

Zhong Lu leaned against the wall and didn’t move. “We can talk right here.”

There were people around. It made him feel safer.

Huo Zhehan gave up and threw a stack of documents at him.

“All this just because of the schedule?”

Zhong Lu caught the papers with precision. Is the schedule not excessive? he thought, lowering his lashes and opening the file, suspecting that Huo Zhehan had long since prepared a divorce agreement with terrifying foresight.

Just waiting for him to sign it.

He turned to the first page and his eyes flew wide open. His fingers trembled as he held the document, and the paper nearly slipped from his hands.

His fingers rarely sweated—if they did, he couldn’t grip the mouse properly, and it would mess with his gameplay. Right now, without a word, he quietly lowered his hand and wiped it on his bargain-bin pants.

His lips pressed tight as he secretly wiped off the sweat, like he was afraid the enemy would notice a lapse in focus.

Huo Zhehan said, “This is Abandon’s medical file.”

Zhong Lu’s face went pale in an instant.

Huo Zhehan stepped closer, lowering his gaze to the young man leaning against the wall. “Teenage malnutrition, constantly eating instant noodles, staying up all night with an irregular schedule, reckless training, refusing to take medication as prescribed… Do you know how he died?”

Zhong Lu almost thought Huo Zhehan’s next sentence would be, “Are you Abandon?”

However, Huo Zhehan said, “Was his example not enough? Was the schedule really that outrageous? I’m just trying to stop you from becoming the next Abandon.”

Huh?

So… he didn’t recognize him?

The string in Zhong Lu’s mind began to unwind. It turns out Huo Zhehan was still talking about the schedule, even using Abandon as a scare tactic.

Honestly, it was kind of embarrassing. These days, Abandon had basically become the number-one cautionary tale parents used to frighten their game-addicted kids.

He died, yes—but lived forever in parents’ lectures.

Technically, Abandon hadn’t died suddenly, but it was close enough. After all, normal people didn’t just suddenly feel dizzy and happen to hit their head the wrong way.

One foot in that category, and the narrative was sealed: “died suddenly from gaming.”

Truthfully, it had always been about his poor health. That day it wasn’t even midnight, and he had slept plenty during the day. Zuo Yin and the others kept the same schedule and were full of energy.

Everyone’s body was different. No one could gamble on those odds.

Huo Zhehan’s voice softened. “I just want you to sleep earlier and control how much time you spend gaming.”

Damn it, this was supposed to be his contract wife, but it felt like he was lecturing a kid in front of nosy relatives.

If the educator insisted on embarrassing himself, he had no choice but to play along.

Since Abandon had been a shared idol of both Huo Yu and Huo Zhehan’s wife, Huo Zhehan had naturally looked into him.

He hadn’t paid attention to all the esports glory but there’s just one thing that stood out. Zhong Lu’s medical checkups before his death were done at a hospital owned by the Huo family.

Using a bit of his access, he pulled up the records. After reading them, all he felt was that Zhong Lu was walking the same old path.

In three days, President Huo had come up with this strategy as a way to give himself an exit.

Using Abandon to talk someone down had worked well with Huo Yu. He didn’t know if it would work on Zhong Lu.

Let’s hope the educator has the sense to back off.

Huo Zhehan: “Is that alright?”

Zhong Lu replied instinctively, “Three hours isn’t enough.”

Huo Zhehan: “…”

It wasn’t that Zhong Lu was being ungrateful. Hearing what Huo Zhehan said made him feel a bit ashamed. He had only been thinking about playing esports, forgetting that he wasn’t alone in this. As someone’s legal partner, he hadn’t considered how his family might feel, and that really wasn’t right.

So maybe they should get divorced after all. He was used to being on his own and didn’t deserve Huo Zhehan’s care.

Of course, now that he had a second chance at life and a healthy body, Zhong Lu promised himself he would never repeat the mistakes of his past life.

He would take good care of his body and make an effort to go to bed early and wake up early.

The vein on Huo Zhehan’s forehead throbbed. “Do you not understand what I’m saying?! Then what exactly do you want?!”

Zhong Lu opened his mouth. “Di—”

“Cough cough cough cough cough cough!”

Ye Xianyun suddenly started coughing violently, drawing everyone’s attention.

Zhong Lu looked at him. What’s wrong?

Ye Xianyun quickly pulled Zhong Lu over and said, “President Huo is right. Let me talk to him again.”

He dragged Zhong Lu into the master bedroom’s bathroom, shut the door, lowered his voice, and pulled out a document. “I’m guessing you forgot about this.”

Another document? He had nearly been scared to death just now by the medical record Huo Zhehan threw at him.

“What is this?”

“Your prenuptial agreement with President Huo. You two signed a contract and divorce comes with a penalty.”

He wasn’t sure what was going on with Zhong Lu, but seeing as he hadn’t mentioned the penalty clause even once recently, Ye Xianyun boldly guessed that Zhong Lu had completely forgotten about it.

Zhong Lu opened the Prenuptial Agreement. There was no time to look at the rest—he flipped straight to the breach of contract section.

The final clause: If Party B initiates divorce during the contract period, they must return the full 50 million yuan payment advanced by Party A.

Fifty million?!

He flipped forward through the pages, and under Party B’s obligations, the main objective was: “Tutor Huo Yu to get into a university.”

Zhong Lu: Shit, I’m Party B.

There were still four full years until Huo Yu took the college entrance exam.

Given the long contract period, to effectively monitor Zhong Lu’s fulfillment of his duties and clarify responsibilities, the agreement laid out baseline tasks in detailed phases.

For example, tutoring Huo Yu to finish his summer homework before the start of ninth grade.

Failure to complete these baseline tasks would result in deductions.

The two had just gotten their marriage certificate in July, right at the start of summer break. This stage was key to evaluating the educator’s capabilities, so the penalties were especially harsh.

If the summer homework wasn’t completed, ten million would be deducted and would be automatically transferred to Huo Zhehan’s account on the day of registration.

If it was completed, it meant the educator had successfully earned ten million out of the fifty million Huo Zhehan had prepaid.

And so on—if Zhong Lu could tutor Huo Yu into getting into a university, he would earn the full fifty million, and Huo Zhehan would even give him a generous bonus on top of that.

The agreement wasn’t inflexible. Even if Huo Yu didn’t make it in the end, Zhong Lu would still get paid for the tasks he completed along the way.

Aside from initiating a divorce mid-contract—doing so would require a full refund and Huo Zhehan would be entitled to recover all expenses incurred during the contract period, along with additional penalties.

As long as one kept a clear head, even if not all tasks were completed, there would be no reason to divorce halfway through.

There were also supplemental clauses, such as regulations on annual leave and penalties for unexcused absences.

An absence of one day meant a deduction of 20,000, two days 40,000, doubling each time, capped at one million. Party A had the right to terminate the contract.

It sounded like a lot, but with Party B’s annual income equivalent to tens of millions, 20,000 wasn’t much.

“Both parties must cooperate with the educational approach. Party A has the right to make reasonable suggestions regarding Party B’s lifestyle.”

To put it simply, it meant Huo Zhehan had the right to boss him around.

Zhong Lu was thoroughly shaken.

The contract was solid. The problem was, whether earning or getting penalized, he had never actually received the fifty million Huo Zhehan had prepaid.

There was no money on the original owner’s card, and he had no idea where the money had gone.

So what was he supposed to use to cover the deductions?

He had thought that walking away from the marriage without taking a cent from Huo Zhehan was noble and dignified, but turns out, he was the one who had to pay up!

He couldn’t afford a divorce but his resolve to go pro in esports was stronger than ever.

Without esports, how many years would it take to buy his freedom?

“You found it where?”

“Under the mattress.”

Probably hid it that well to keep Huo Yu from digging it out.

Out in the hallway, Huo Zhehan stared at the master bathroom door, his brows knit together. Still not coming out?

Click. Zhong Lu pushed the door open and reluctantly walked over to stand in front of Huo Zhehan.

“Uh… you were right.”

Huo Zhehan: “Hmm?”

Zhong Lu: “I need to sleep early and wake up early, but I still have to play games for four hours a day.”

With the abilities of God Abandon, there’s no need for long training sessions—last lifetime, it was just out of boredom.

Lately, the coordination with teammates has more or less settled, so there’s no need to extend the hours anymore.

Even with great wrist conditions, switching careers suddenly still requires balancing work and rest.

So, a minimum of four hours and any extra will be snuck in.

Huo Zhehan let out a laugh of exasperation. He was even trying to bargain.

However, he knew he couldn’t push him too hard. They each had to give a little.

If Ye Xianyun hadn’t stepped in just now, Huo Zhehan had a strong feeling Zhong Lu was about to shout “divorce and termination.”

That would’ve been truly humiliating and there’s no way to recover from it.

Seeing he didn’t respond, Zhong Lu said, “I—I can take some supplements!”

President Huo, who sells health supplements: “…”

No idea whose intelligence is paying the tax this time.

“Put the clothes back.”

Zhong Lu said emotionlessly, “Okay.”

Ye Xianyun helped hang up the clothes, while Huo Zhehan went to the water dispenser to pour a glass of water. He suddenly glanced at Lu Ziming.

“Why do I get the feeling that the educator listens to your partner more?”

“And I get the feeling A-Yun listens to your wife more.”

He had tried many times to persuade Ye Xianyun to send less money home and treat himself better, but Ye Xianyun never cared. Then Zhong Lu stepped in, got fifteen grand back for Ye Xianyun, and the two of them immediately ditched the high-speed rail for a flight, not even flinching at the fuel surcharge.

“So, who do you think he actually listened to tonight?”

Lu Ziming tried to read his boss’s thoughts and replied smoothly, “On the surface, it looks like A-Yun persuaded but in reality, it was you, President Huo, who stepped in and turned the tide with that medical record. It was reasoned and convincing.”

Huo Zhehan nodded, pleased. Having resolved a marital crisis, he felt refreshed and proud.

In reality, as Zhong Lu hung up the clothes, he was muttering curses under his breath—damn that money power!

So then, how much of Huo Yu’s summer homework had he actually finished?