Just Wanting to Divorce My Love Rival - Chapter 18

Zhong Yingzhi’s low, raspy, and suppressed threat echoed in her ears, successfully intimidating Mu Cheng.

Mu Cheng froze and dared not move again. “Fine, I won’t move, just don’t be impulsive—and definitely don’t do anything reckless.”

Zhong Yingzhi pulled her into her arms and held her tightly, not letting go for a long time.

“That’s enough, you’ve been hugging for quite a while now. How about,” Mu Cheng, getting a bit restless, suggested tentatively, “you let go of me first?”

Mu Cheng tried to push her away, but to her surprise, the other woman held on even tighter.

Zhong Yingzhi nuzzled her chin against Mu Cheng’s hair, saying longingly, “Fate played a joke on me and almost snatched you away from my side. Now it has taken back the joke and returned you to me.”

Zhong Yingzhi finally released the embrace, looking down at the person before her. Tears welled up in her eyes, swirling in her reddened sockets as if they might fall at any moment. “Fate’s joke terrified me… but thank goodness, thank goodness you’re still here.”

Seeing her like this, Mu Cheng’s heart couldn’t help but ache.

The old Zhong Yingzhi was always cold-faced with little expression—she wouldn’t smile, let alone cry. But the current Zhong Yingzhi couldn’t stop the corners of her mouth from turning up when looking at her, and her eyes would occasionally turn red for no apparent reason.

What happened to her? Or rather, what happened to me?

Mu Cheng broke the silent eye contact, giving her an out. “Why are your eyes so red? Did some sand get in them?”

Zhong Yingzhi turned her head away, quickly wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes, composed herself, and changed the subject. “Are you hungry? I had someone prepare some food earlier; it should be ready now. Let’s go eat.”

Zhong Yingzhi took Mu Cheng’s hand, and Mu Cheng didn’t pull away.

Seven or eight dishes were laid out on a white circular dining table. The fare wasn’t extravagant but mainly focused on light, healthy flavors. A chef and several helpers stood by the table, their heads slightly bowed and their expressions respectful.

Zhong Yingzhi pulled out a chair and gestured. “Sit here.”

Mu Cheng walked over and sat down.

The chef stepped forward, lifted a cloche in front of Mu Cheng, and introduced the dish: “Madam Zhong, this bowl of soup was specially prepared for your physical recovery. Please drink it before the meal…”

Mu Cheng raised her hand and interrupted, “Madam… Madam who?”

The chef froze, not catching her meaning.

“Madam,” Zhong Yingzhi interjected calmly. “Madam Zhong.”

Mu Cheng’s lip twitched. “This title is a bit…”

Zhong Yingzhi looked over and asked in a cold voice, “You are my wife. Is the title ‘Madam Zhong’ not correct?”

“It is… but it also feels not… forget it, let’s not talk about it,” Mu Cheng picked up the bowl. “Soup, soup time.”

Because she drank too fast, she burned herself. The pain caused her to spill the soup across the table.

Zhong Yingzhi jumped up immediately and walked over. “You’re so clumsy. Couldn’t you blow on it to cool it down first?”

Zhong Yingzhi knelt beside Mu Cheng, reaching out to touch her lips, asking with concern, “Are you burned?”

As those cool fingertips pressed against her lips, Mu Cheng’s breath hitched. She quickly turned her head to dodge. “I’m fine, I’m fine.”

Zhong Yingzhi stood up, sighed, and instructed the chef, “Some people are too foolish. For soups like this in the future, let them cool down a bit before serving them.”

The chef nodded respectfully. “Understood, President Zhong.”

Zhong Yingzhi waved her hand slightly. “That will be all for now.”

The chef and helpers all retreated from the room.

Zhong Yingzhi sat back down, ladled another bowl of soup, blew on it until it was cool, and pushed it toward Mu Cheng. “It’s not hot anymore. You can drink it now.”

Mu Cheng gave an awkward smile, picked up the spoon, and took a sip. Her eyes lit up; the flavor was fresh and rich.

The taste suited Mu Cheng’s palate perfectly, and she finished it in a few gulps.

When she moved to have more, Zhong Yingzhi’s chopsticks pressed down on her hand to stop her. “This soup is medicinal. One bowl is enough. Any more would be overdoing it.”

Mu Cheng looked at the soup in the clay pot, swallowed, and looked at Zhong Yingzhi piteously.

Zhong Yingzhi thinned her lips and compromised. “Only one more small bowl.”

Mu Cheng grinned and nodded happily. “Okay!”

The soup was delicious, but she couldn’t forget her main goal—this concerned her future life, and she couldn’t afford to be careless.

Just as Mu Cheng was about to speak, Zhong Yingzhi seemed to anticipate what she was going to say. “I know what you want to ask. Don’t ask. Even if you do, I won’t tell you. I understand you’re curious about the past now that you’ve lost your memory, but as I said, some things are better left forgotten. Forgetting is better than remembering.”

Mu Cheng pursed her lips and said no more.

Last time, she had hounded her with questions and got nothing; asking now would likely yield the same result.

Since she couldn’t get useful information from her mouth, there was no point wasting time. She might as well ask someone else.

Time was limited. Finding someone in person was unrealistic, so she had to use a phone. There were many people she could ask, but the first choice was naturally Grandmother Mu.

Grandmother would definitely know her situation. Asking her would be the fastest and most effective way.

“Do you have a phone?” Mu Cheng asked, trying to sound natural.

Zhong Yingzhi’s eyes grew wary. “Why do you suddenly want a phone?”

Mu Cheng smiled. “I want to play a game.”

Zhong Yingzhi placed a piece of meat into her bowl. “Eat properly during dinner. Play after you’re finished.”

“No,” Mu Cheng went all out, grabbing her sleeve and letting out a few “pouty” whines. “I want to play a game now. Give me a phone, please? Pretty please? I want a phone, phone~”

A faint smile touched Zhong Yingzhi’s lips. She looked at the hand clutching her sleeve, and her cold face softened with a hint of doting affection.

Zhong Yingzhi laughed softly and said helplessly, “How old are you, still acting like this?”

The “acting cute” tactic was highly effective. Zhong Yingzhi soon ordered someone to bring a phone over.

The moment the phone appeared, Mu Cheng’s eyes followed its every move. Before the helper could even hand it to Zhong Yingzhi, Mu Cheng lunged forward and snatched it.

She hurriedly swiped it open. The wallpaper was a photo of Zhong Yingzhi and Mu Cheng—the two of them with their foreheads pressed together, gazing at each other with deep affection. One look at the photo told you these two were in the honeymoon phase and were extremely “lovey-dovey.”

Looking at the wallpaper, Mu Cheng felt a sense of bizarreness. After the initial shock, she quickly opened the dialer.

Zhong Yingzhi stood to the side, watching her. “Who are you calling?”

Mu Cheng ducked away, fearing she would snatch the phone back. “If you won’t tell me, I’ll ask someone else. I have to figure this out.”

Mu Cheng knew her grandmother’s number by heart. Without a second thought, she entered the digits and dialed.

The cold, mechanical female voice of the system came through: Sorry, the number you have dialed is not in service. Please check the number and dial again…

Mu Cheng’s brow furrowed. A bad premonition surged in her heart.

She then dialed her mother, father, and brother. But every prompt was either “not in service” or “the phone is switched off.” Not a single one went through.

Mu Cheng suppressed her growing dread, comforting herself that it had been nine years; it was normal to change phone numbers. She told herself not to think the worst.

Mu Cheng looked at Zhong Yingzhi and asked, “Do you know my grandmother’s new phone number?”

Zhong Yingzhi frowned and remained silent.

Receiving no answer, Mu Cheng looked down to search the contact list. Since they were partners, Zhong Yingzhi’s phone should definitely have her grandmother’s number.

She scrolled through the whole list. Nothing.

Not only was Grandmother Mu’s number missing, but her parents’ numbers were gone too.

Her relatives—the people most connected to her—seemed to have vanished from the face of the earth.

Zhong Yingzhi snatched the phone back and urged, “Stop messing around. Come back and eat.”

The bad feeling intensified, and Mu Cheng grew anxious. “Did something happen to my family?”

At this question, Zhong Yingzhi’s grip on the phone tightened. She forced a strained smile. “If you don’t eat, the food will get cold.”

Mu Cheng grabbed Zhong Yingzhi’s hand roughly. “Stop dodging the subject! Tell me, did something happen to them? What happened to my grandma?! What happened to her?!”

By the end, Mu Cheng was almost shouting. “Zhong Yingzhi, I’m not in the mood to play games with you! Grandma is the most important person to me. She’s more important than my life! You have to tell me right now: What happened to her? Where is she?”

Mu Cheng gripped Zhong Yingzhi’s wrist so hard that it left a red mark.

Zhong Yingzhi endured the pain, letting her hold on, and lowered her eyes. “Grandma grew old. Her health failed and she got sick. She passed away last year.”

Mu Cheng let go and took a step back. “How is that possible? Grandma was always healthy. It’s impossible.”

Zhong Yingzhi held her, patting her back comfortingly.

Mu Cheng looked up, searching Zhong Yingzhi’s face with hope. “You just said she was sick. What kind of illness? Was it the kind that could have been avoided? Could it have been detected and prevented beforehand?”

Zhong Yingzhi’s gaze shifted for a split second, as if she were hiding something.

“Speak! Don’t be a mute!” Mu Cheng grew frantic.

Zhong Yingzhi: “She had a stroke and collapsed at home. No one was there at the time. She wasn’t found until three hours later. By the time she got to the hospital, it was too late.”

Mu Cheng didn’t notice any abnormality in her reaction and pressed further, “When did she collapse? What month, what day, what time?”

Zhong Yingzhi didn’t know why she was asking for such detail, but she answered anyway: “Lidong (Beginning of Winter) last year. It was around noon.”

Knowing the specific information and time made things easier. Barring any accidents, all of this could be prevented.

For instance, ensuring she was sent to the hospital immediately when she collapsed, or urging her to have annual check-ups to monitor her health beforehand. These things could be changed.

Thinking of this, Mu Cheng let out a sigh of relief.

After asking about her grandmother, Mu Cheng turned her attention to the rest. “What about my parents?”

Though she wasn’t on good terms with them, they were still her parents who gave her life. She needed to make sure they were okay.

A flash of disgust crossed Zhong Yingzhi’s eyes. “They are fine. They are living very well. Too well.”

“Living very well… living too well.” The way she described it felt like she secretly wished they would drop dead.