On the third day, Xavier Foster went to the office.
Cecilia Ye spent half the day in her room, her face etched with worry and hesitation.
For days now, she’d repeated to herself, over and over, what she wanted to say to Grandpa Rivers.
After pacing back and forth several times, she finally steeled herself, left her room, and walked down the corridor to the innermost room.
That was Grandpa Rivers’s study. In the mornings, he was usually there, reading.
Knock, knock, knock.
The door was tapped gently. Inside, Grandpa Rivers’s warm and familiar voice called out, 'Come in.'
Cecilia Ye slowly pushed open the door and walked in.
'Grandpa Rivers…'
Seeing it was Cecilia Ye, Grandpa Rivers smiled slightly, but then his face clouded, as if recalling something.
'What is it, Cecilia? Did you need something from me?'
Cecilia Ye twisted her fingers anxiously, standing quietly as the study fell into a deep silence.
After a while, she finally spoke, 'Grandpa Rivers, could you give me the household registration book? I promised Zhiye… After the New Year, we’d get divorced.'
The old man’s brow furrowed, but instead of getting angry as usual, he just gave a heavy sigh and took a sip of tea.
'Cecilia, about Zhiye…'
For the first time, Cecilia Ye interrupted him before he finished, a rare resolve shining in her glassy eyes. 'Grandpa Rivers, I already know everything about Zhiye.'
She paused, struggling to get the words out. 'But… I just can’t convince myself. I keep thinking, even if it wasn’t all a lie, Zhiye would still insist on divorcing me.'
'I don’t want to live like this anymore. I don’t want to spend every day feeling like I was only ever Zhiye’s second choice. I realize now—I just wanted too much.'
'I’m sorry, Grandpa Rivers. I’m the one who’s let you down.'
Cecilia Ye’s eyes brimmed with tears. She tried to hold them back, but they spilled over anyway, her small frame trembling.
Grandpa Rivers’s eyes reddened, too. 'Silly child, it’s not your fault. It’s Zhiye—he never knew how to cherish what he had.'
'Ah, I used to hope he’d finally understand his own heart, but because of his parents… Forget it. Anything I say sounds like I’m making excuses for him. He’s the one who has to learn.'
With another heavy sigh, Grandpa Rivers beckoned her over. Cecilia Ye stepped closer and knelt beside him.
'If you’ve made up your mind, I won’t stand in your way. If Xavier Foster ever wants another chance, let him earn it back himself. Grandpa Rivers won’t help him.'
Cecilia Ye shook her head. There was no 'another chance.' Xavier Foster never loved her—divorce is her release.
Grandpa Rivers opened the drawer and took out her household registration booklet. When Cecilia had joined the family, he’d stored it right here—never imagining he’d be giving it to her for a divorce one day.
He was deeply disappointed in his grandson, but hoped this would at least teach him something.
Cecilia Ye took the thin booklet, blinking back tears.
'Grandpa Rivers, I want to go on an art trip with some friends for a while. Just to clear my head.'
She told a small lie.
'So soon? Right after New Year’s?'
She was determined to leave. Not just because she couldn’t stand living under the same roof as Xavier Foster anymore.
There was also the child in her belly. She and Xavier Foster had no future—no reason to let him know, either.
Grandpa Rivers was silent for a long while before finally nodding. 'Alright, alright. Just be careful out there. The weather’s chilly—be sure to bundle up. And if you need anything, call me.'
'Okay.'
Her voice choked with sobs. Cecilia Ye sniffled. It might be a long time until she saw Grandpa Rivers and Grandma Rivers again. She felt selfish—but after all they’d done for her over the years, she was simply walking away.
But it was alright. Someday, when enough time had passed, when she’d finally moved on, she’d tell them everything.
'I’ll stay at a friend’s place for now. Grandpa Rivers, you and Grandma Rivers must take care of yourselves.'
'Alright, alright,' the old man waved her off, turning away from her.
Holding her household registration booklet, Cecilia Ye walked out.
Only after the door closed did Grandpa Rivers sigh. In the end, every generation has to find its own way. He had to let go.
The next morning dawned bright and clear—the golden sunlight taking the edge off the winter chill.
Cecilia Ye returned to the Fu residence early and packed up her things.
She’d already packed when she moved to Qinghe Community, so this time, she just took her everyday clothes.
On the table, fresh flowers filled a vase—the servants replaced them daily. There was a faint, familiar scent of wood in the room. The last time she’d left this place hurt so much—it was when she first found out Vivian Belle had returned.
Back then, she’d been like a bee in a honey jar, suddenly plucked out—lost, fearful, helpless.
Now, after being outside for so long, the wind and rain had become her norm. She’d forgotten the sweetness of the honey, and just wanted to see more of the world.
She didn’t know when—or if—she’d return.
Zoey Zhang, her loyal dog, watched her pack, wagging her tail. Cecilia Ye zipped up her suitcase.
Before leaving, she called Mia Moore—they’d agreed Mia Moore would drive her to Qingshui Bay.
Mia Moore said she’d be there in half an hour, so Cecilia Ye sat down at the table. From her phone case, she pulled out her hidden wedding photo.
Crimson background—the two of them, Xavier Foster and Cecilia Ye. Zhiye wore a blank expression; she was smiling so happily.
She’d looked at this photo countless times, never realizing how mismatched she and Xavier Foster looked. Not even their happiness matched.
She placed the wedding photo on the table, removed her diamond ring and took out the household registration book, placing them together.
With Xavier Foster’s influence, getting divorce papers would be merely procedural.
She gazed out the window for a while, suddenly wanting to leave behind a few words.
Long ago, she’d read an old-fashioned letter requesting release from marriage. She hadn’t understood it then, but now, she realized many people—even in ancient times—had felt just as she did now.
In the end, they gave up on those dreams of growing old together.
In the end, they chose to walk away.
With a fine-tipped pen, she scribbled on a blank sketch sheet:
Zhiye:
Four years married, our hearts never as one. Better to part, giving each other freedom…
The words sounded so formal and ancient—Cecilia Ye didn’t know why she remembered them so clearly, but the pen seemed to move of its own accord.
Frowning, she shook her head—what was she even doing?
She slashed two heavy lines across the page, crumpled it up, and tossed it in the wastebasket.