Just Wanting to Divorce My Love Rival - Chapter 29

Mu Cheng pushed her away. “Go, go, go. Who wants to bathe with you? Don’t even think about it.”

Zhong Yingzhi didn’t insist. She took a step back and said, “I’ll wait for you outside. I’ll knock on the door every minute. If you don’t respond when I knock, I’ll push the door open immediately.”

“Are you guarding a prisoner in lockup? Is there a secret escape tunnel in this bathroom or something?” Mu Cheng looked at her with total bewilderment. “Even prison isn’t this strict. Knocking every minute? This is a bathroom; where could I possibly escape to?”

Zhong Yingzhi said with no room for argument, “If you don’t accept my proposal, then we wash together.”

“Fine, knock away. I’ll respond,” Mu Cheng compromised helplessly.

Mu Cheng closed the door, but she didn’t bathe right away. She actually searched around, trying to see if there was any way to slip away.

She pouted. “Seriously? No exit at all. The windows all have security bars. Where could I run? Do you think I can fly or burrow through the earth?”

One minute passed, and the person at the door dutifully knocked.

Mu Cheng said irritably, “Still here. Haven’t run.”

Mu Cheng reached out to test the water temperature in the tub. It was just right. Since she couldn’t do anything else anyway and she felt all sticky, she might as well actually take a bath.

She undressed and submerged herself in the water, letting out a long, comfortable sigh.

Another minute passed, and the person at the door knocked again.

Mu Cheng rolled her eyes. “I’m gone. I’ve already escaped.”

While Mu Cheng was relaxing in the bath, Zhong Yingzhi was pacing back and forth outside the door, looking restless and uneasy. Her expression was solemn and tense. She kept her eyes glued to her watch, knocking exactly every sixty seconds. If the person inside didn’t respond immediately, she would fall into a panic, ready to burst in at any moment.

She wasn’t afraid of Mu Cheng escaping. She was…

Afraid she would die in there. Because Mu Cheng had done it before—lying in a bathtub full of blood, faint and breathless.

That time, Zhong Yingzhi had been so desperate she nearly suffocated. That was Mu Cheng’s first suicide attempt.

Even though Mu Cheng had now lost her memory and returned to “normal,” forgetting those events, Zhong Yingzhi didn’t dare relax. She was terrified that one slip-up would result in losing her forever.

Knock, knock, knock. It started again.

Mu Cheng threw a few punches at the door. “Are you finished?! I said I haven’t run. Can’t you let me take a bath in peace?”

Mu Cheng gave herself a quick rinse with the showerhead and hurriedly wrapped herself in a bath towel to come out. If she didn’t, the person outside was likely to break the door down; each knock was more urgent than the last.

Mu Cheng yanked the door open and glared at the woman outside. “Are you looking for trouble on purpose?”

Zhong Yingzhi scanned Mu Cheng from head to toe. Seeing her unharmed, she let out a sigh of relief. Mu Cheng was thin—sickly thin. She was far too underweight, and Zhong Yingzhi’s eyes filled with heartache.

Mu Cheng stood by the door, wrapped in a white bathrobe that left her long legs half-exposed. Her wet hair dripped, and water droplets traced paths down her collarbone. Zhong Yingzhi’s gaze followed the trail, eventually landing directly—and shamelessly—on places it shouldn’t.

Mu Cheng pulled the robe tighter. “Where are you looking? Don’t you know ‘see no evil’?”

“Why don’t you mention that you’re indecently dressed?” Zhong Yingzhi countered.

Mu Cheng let out a couple of “he-hes.” “Is it because I want to be indecent? You said you’d knock once a minute, but you ended up knocking three or four times. I was constantly worried you’d burst in. You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

Zhong Yingzhi raised an eyebrow. “So afraid of me bursting in? What’s there to be afraid of? What part of you have I not seen? I’ve seen everything worth seeing long ago.”

Mu Cheng was speechless. “Well, I don’t remember! Stop forcing things I don’t remember onto me. I suggest you keep your mind pure and pack away those dirty thoughts.”

Zhong Yingzhi chuckled and mocked, “With you being just skin and bones, even if I wanted to have dirty thoughts, I’d be afraid of your bones poking my hands.”

Hearing this, Mu Cheng got offended. “What’s wrong with being thin? What kind of talk is that? As my wife, isn’t it a bit much to say that? What, are you bored of me? Want to swap for someone else? Great! Divorce, divorce! Hurry up, as soon as possible!”

Zhong Yingzhi stared at her coldly. “Divorce what?”

The woman looked like she was about to explode.

Mu Cheng rubbed her nose and said speechlessly, “You were the one who started the mocking, yet now it feels like I’m the one who did something wrong.”

“Don’t always keep divorce on the tip of your tongue,” Zhong Yingzhi warned. “I’ve told you, it’s not happening in this lifetime.”

Mu Cheng pouted. “I’m curious about something. Didn’t I change dorms back in college? How did I still end up entangled with you?”

Although the counselor hadn’t signed the transfer form yet, there shouldn’t have been any accidents. If she changed dorms, she shouldn’t have any further connection to her. Mu Cheng felt very confused.

At Mu Cheng’s mention of this, Zhong Yingzhi also recalled the event.

Back then, Mu Cheng had indeed successfully changed dorms. She moved everything to the new room, but after a series of twists and turns, she moved back.

At the time, Mu Cheng had moved into the new dorm with high hopes, only to find she couldn’t stand it after a single day. The new dorm had a roommate who was exceptionally “fond of cleanliness”—meaning no one had ever seen her shower, brush her teeth, or even wash her face.

That wasn’t even the main issue. The main issue was the pile of socks under her bed. It was no exaggeration: the stench reached the heavens.

Mu Cheng tried to talk to her, suggesting she wash her socks, being tactful for fear of hurting her pride. But the roommate just offered perfunctory excuses every time and never changed.

Mu Cheng stayed in that suffocating stench for a week until she couldn’t take it anymore. She wanted to change dorms again, but coincidentally, there wasn’t a single empty spot in the entire girls’ dormitory. If she wanted to move, her only choice was to move back to her original room.

Fate is like that—you circle around, trying to avoid it, only to return to the starting point by accident.

Zhong Yingzhi looked at her with an unreadable expression. “So you remember the socks from the new dorm?”

Mu Cheng shrugged. “Obviously.”

Zhong Yingzhi gave a half-smile. “You moved back in less than a week. I’ve always wanted to ask you: were you playing ‘hard to get’ with me back then?”

Mu Cheng: “You’re overthinking it.”

They had moved back within a week. No matter the reason, the final result was returning to the starting point. What about the situation with Zhong Suzhi?

Mu Cheng’s expression turned grave. “Are you absolutely sure my grandmother died of a stroke?”

The topic shifted so fast that Zhong Yingzhi froze for a moment before giving a hum of affirmation.

“How did this not change? Logically, it should have changed,” Mu Cheng said with slight doubt. “I’ve been taking Grandma for full check-ups every six months, urging her to exercise and keep a calm mind. Her results were always perfect. How could she suddenly have a stroke?”

Zhong Yingzhi: “These things are often sudden. Check-ups can reduce the risk, but it doesn’t mean there is no risk.”

The logic was sound, but Mu Cheng felt something was off.

Several things hadn’t changed at all. She changed dorms only to move back. She failed to cut ties with Zhong Yingzhi. She took Zhong Suzhi for check-ups, yet she still died of a stroke. Nothing changed. Is it impossible to change?

Mu Cheng bit her lower lip, sinking into dread.

“What are you thinking?” Zhong Yingzhi asked.

“Nothing.” Mu Cheng shook her head and looked up at her. “I’m just suddenly a little scared.”

Zhong Yingzhi’s brow furrowed slightly. “Scared of what?”

Mu Cheng said dejectedly, “Scared that I’m just struggling for nothing, and in the end, nothing can be changed.”

At that moment, her temple throbbed with pain again. Mu Cheng let out a hiss.

Zhong Yingzhi’s face was full of worry. “Headache again?”

Mu Cheng didn’t have time to answer, because she had caught sight of the scar on her wrist—a hideous, crawling centipede of a scar. It was the mark left by a sharp object slicing the skin.

Mu Cheng stared blankly at the scar, and the throbbing in her temples grew more intense. Memory fragments surged into her mind again, this time disconnected and broken.

Mu Cheng, holding a fruit knife, lying in a bathtub. The water reached her shoulders. It was winter; the water was icy.

After a long time, Mu Cheng smiled. She smiled as she sliced open her wrist. She smiled as she cried. Tears fell into the tub; blood dyed the water red.

In the final moments of losing consciousness, Mu Cheng kept her eyes on the phone placed to the side, waiting for a call from a certain someone. But until all awareness vanished, the phone never rang. Not even a single text message.

“Go see where Zhong Yingzhi is. How long has it been since your accident? Where is she? She doesn’t want you anymore. That’s how rich people are—they just play around. Once you’re dirty, they throw you away. Why keep you? Keep you around to be disgusted? You’re just trash she discarded. Trash like you should just die. Grandma died because of you, too.”

The voice—she didn’t know whose it was—constantly echoed in her ears. Every word was like a sharp blade, slicing away Mu Cheng’s last shred of hope.

The memory fragments were just tiny sparks, but that specific sentence was deeply branded into her heart; she couldn’t forget it even if she wanted to.

Because of the sudden appearance of this memory, Mu Cheng began to distrust Zhong Yingzhi. She even questioned her: “My grandmother didn’t die of a stroke at all, did she?”

Zhong Yingzhi’s pupils constricted.

Mu Cheng’s gaze toward Zhong Yingzhi was full of hostility. “You’re lying to me. You’re not just refusing to tell me the truth; you’re lying to me, deliberately misleading me.”

Zhong Yingzhi thinned her lips, looking uneasy. “What did you remember?”

Mu Cheng stared intently at every change in Zhong Yingzhi’s facial expressions, terrified of missing a key detail. “Why ask that? Are you afraid of what I might remember?”

Zhong Yingzhi tucked away her emotions and looked her straight in the eye, admitting candidly, “Of course I’m afraid.”

For some reason, this answer caused a surge of uncontrollable rage in Mu Cheng’s heart.

Mu Cheng pushed Zhong Yingzhi away, her emotions becoming uncontrollably agitated. “What are you afraid of? Afraid that once I remember, I’ll be hurt again? Or are you afraid… afraid I’ll discover your secret? Or, to put it more bluntly—did I commit suicide because I was abandoned by you? Because I was thrown away like a piece of trash?!”