A Heartless Omega Regrets It When I’m Dying - Chapter 15

By the time Lin Wantang finished drafting the divorce agreement, it was already past four in the morning. She had studied the relevant legal clauses previously—right after she had pathetically lost her job due to the kidnapping case and saw the trending topic about Wen Zhiqing and Qi Yishu’s date.

Back then, she felt her life had hit rock bottom and her future was pitch black. But now, even though she suffered from a terminal pheromone illness, she didn’t feel sad.

Perhaps when a person truly hits bottom, they no longer hear an echo; all that remains is a near-absurdist sense of calm.

Divorcing Wen Zhiqing before undergoing surgical treatment was likely the wisest move. After the divorce, she and Wen Zhiqing would be strangers. She could go into surgery without any psychological burden; even if the surgery failed, she wouldn’t be Wen Zhiqing’s late wife, and Wen Zhiqing wouldn’t be her widow.

Lin Wantang read through the agreement one more time. She wasn’t a lawyer, so the draft might not be professional, but it didn’t matter. As long as she presented it to Wen Zhiqing, Wen would surely be unable to stomach such a “provocation.”

Upon seeing the agreement, Wen Zhiqing would assume it was yet another meticulously planned scheme. She would then find the most professional lawyers to redraft a new one, and their divorce would follow naturally.

After all, in Wen Zhiqing’s heart, she had always been a liar who would use any unscrupulous means for gain.

Lin Wantang got up, left the bedroom, and went into the study to connect to the printer. After a slight whirring of the machine, her overnight labor transformed into a few thin sheets of paper, still slightly warm from the ink.

She returned to the bedroom, placed the divorce agreement on the nightstand, and slowly lay back down.

Though her movements were as light as possible, she still seemed to disturb Wen Zhiqing in her sleep. Wen turned over, her hand fumbling across the pillow until her fingers caught a stray lock of Lin Wantang’s hair. Only then did she stop moving, her breathing sinking back into a steady rhythm.

The faint scent of alcohol still lingered on her, though much lighter than the previous night, mixed with the pheromone scents of galbanum and tangerine. Lin Wantang felt a slight pang of regret for not managing to get the hangover soup into Wen Zhiqing earlier. But the regret was fleeting, like a ripple on a water surface that vanished almost instantly.

Exhausted by the long night, Lin Wantang placed her phone on the nightstand to weigh down the two copies of the agreement and closed her eyes.

The long night was ending, and the first glimmer of dawn covered the room gently.

When she woke up again, daylight was creeping through the gaps in the heavy curtains. Wen Zhiqing was already changing. Lin Wantang watched her lift her arms; the shirt fabric slid down her spine, covering a body marked with red welts.

Lin Wantang didn’t move or make a sound. She lay there quietly, watching the silhouette button up one by one before turning around. Wen’s gaze landed on her.

“Weren’t you acting so tough when you left? Why are you back again?”

Wen Zhiqing’s lips, slightly swollen from the night of intimacy, still wore that mocking curve Lin Wantang had seen countless times—like a cold crescent moon in the sky. The moon was beautiful, but distant; for three years, it had been as far away as the unreachable heavens.

Wen’s voice was raspy, still holding traces of the lingering heat from the night before.

“You were drunk last night. I brought you back.”

Lin Wantang’s peripheral vision caught the A4 paper on the nightstand as she considered how to transition the conversation to the divorce agreement.

“How thoughtful.” Wen Zhiqing paused, the mocking curl of her lips deepening. “I wonder if you’ll keep finding a thousand excuses to move back in like this even after we divorce?”

Lin Wantang was stunned for a moment. She hadn’t expected Wen Zhiqing to proactively bring up the topic of divorce.

But this was perfect. Since Wen Zhiqing had brought it up, handing over the agreement became much more natural.

Wen Zhiqing saw the undisguised shock in Lin Wantang’s eyes, and her morning irritability dissipated slightly. She didn’t understand why her mood had improved, but she felt more certain than ever that Lin Wantang had never seriously considered a divorce.

Lin Wantang couldn’t leave her. She couldn’t leave the luxury and comfort of this life.

This realization brought Wen a sense of disdainful peace. She didn’t know how many times she had loathed this mercenary version of Lin Wantang, nor did she realize how many times she felt a hidden sense of relief because this mercenary version of Lin Wantang never changed.

“You really want to divorce, don’t you?”

Lin Wantang stared fixedly at Wen Zhiqing. The morning light sliced through the curtain gap, illuminating her tired eyes beneath her lashes and the faint blue shadows under her lower lids.

A flash of inexplicable hesitation crossed Wen Zhiqing’s eyes.

The question came too abruptly, yet the tone was too ordinary. Lin Wantang’s voice remained gentle and calm, carrying her usual patience—no different from when she used to ask what Wen wanted for dinner.

Lin Wantang reached out and pulled the stack of A4 papers from under her phone. She looked down, scanned the terms one last time, and held the agreement out to Wen Zhiqing.

Wen Zhiqing didn’t take it. Lin Wantang’s hand remained suspended in mid-air, her voice still mild: “This is a divorce agreement I drafted. Some parts might not be well-thought-out. You can look at it first, or have a lawyer review it.”

Lin Wantang didn’t explain further. In Wen Zhiqing’s eyes, all her motives were malicious, so she didn’t want to waste her breath.

Once Wen Zhiqing processed what was happening, she snatched the papers away with a sharp crinkle. Lin Wantang had rarely seen her lose her composure; Wen was usually aloof and superior, never acting with such violent suddenness.

Perhaps it was because she had waited for this moment too long, or perhaps she felt slighted because she had been beaten to the punch—or perhaps both.

“Fine. I’ve had enough of this marriage anyway.”

Wen Zhiqing’s fingertips paused on the edge of the paper for a moment. When she looked up again, her lack of composure had vanished. She even managed a slight smile: “Just know that the probability of you taking anything from me is very small.”

Lin Wantang nodded. “Very small” was a precise way of putting it; in reality, her chances of taking Wen Zhiqing’s assets were zero, but she didn’t care about that at all.

“I’ll have my lawyer draft a new agreement. After that, no matter how much you regret it or beg, this divorce is happening.” Wen Zhiqing smiled, but her eyes were heartless. “Of course, if you’re serious about leaving, I’m sure you’ve already found your next destination.”

“Now, get out of here.”