After Appearing On A Marriage Reality Show, The Top Star Cried and Says She Doesn't Want a Divorce - Chapter 44

“When you’re upset, you always withdraw into yourself and refuse to talk to anyone,” Wan Cuirong’s voice echoed through the spacious living room, her words carrying a hint of calm determination.

“Forget it. Since things have come to this point, there’s no turning back. We need to plan for what’s next.”

“If you want to protect your assets, I can arrange for a lawyer right away.”

Her words offered no comfort, only cold analysis.

Li Tang glanced at her, clearly surprised by how quickly Wan Cuirong had accepted the end of their marriage, without a single word of sympathy.

A complex emotion flickered in Wan Cuirong’s eyes. She knew all too well that in this world of wealth and status, emotions were fragile, while money and power endured.

“Just nod, and I’ll call immediately.”

Wan Cuirong knew a renowned lawyer who specialized in serving ultra-high-net-worth clients. His reputation and expertise were sufficient to protect Li Tang’s interests, even amid the storm of this marital crisis.

Li Tang lacked the energy to speak. She simply lay back on the sofa, irritably undoing the buttons of her shirt.

The Steinway piano stood silently in the corner of the room, its glossy finish appearing especially soft in the dim lighting.

The piano’s surface reflected a faint light, as if telling stories of past music.

Wan Cuirong sat down gently, her fingers lightly touching the cold keys. Then, a melody poured out.

She was playing Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata. The melody flowed from her fingertips, filled with sorrow and contemplation.

Impressionist paintings hung on the walls. The interplay of light and shadow in the paintings wove together with the piano’s melody, creating a dreamlike atmosphere.

Wan Cuirong’s performance was unexpectedly good.

Even Li Tang, who was usually dismissive of such things, had to acknowledge it. “A little stiff, but it’s definitely concert-worthy. After all these years, I had no idea you were still this skilled.”

Wan Cuirong smiled bitterly, looking down at her slender fingers.

“It’s not good enough. It’s just not. I’m a trained musician too. I always tell people I gave up music because my hands were injured in a car accident…”

“But what’s the truth?”

A flicker of anger and resentment flashed in Wan Cuirong’s eyes, but she was powerless.

What the vast majority of people in this world can never achieve, even after a lifetime of effort, is effortlessly attained by a tiny fraction of geniuses.

She knew her musical career was over, but her passion for music remained unchanged. She transitioned into music management, finding a new way to stay connected to her love.

Wan Cuirong was consumed by an obsessive desire: to nurture a genius. She saw Li Tang’s talent, the unstoppable creative force within her.

Defying all opposition, she signed Li Tang at any cost. She wanted this prodigy’s name to leave an indelible mark on the music world.

Her playing became more intense, each note a testament to her determination and longing.

Her heart burned with an unhealthy obsession: to fulfill her unfulfilled dreams through Li Tang.

Her performance brimmed with power and passion, every note telling her story.

She wanted her own contribution to be part of Li Tang’s legacy in the music hall—a legacy born of her love for music, her drive to shape a genius, and her compensation for never becoming one herself.

“You’re my artist, and I only care about you. Your compositions are at their best when you’re in a good mood. I don’t have any feelings for your wife. I’m not worried about the penalty for pulling out of the show; I’m worried you’ll get depressed and stop creating.”

If you can’t become a genius, then become the stepping stone for one.

Li Tang fell silent for a moment before finally speaking. “Depressed? I can’t even say I’m sad. It’s hard to describe… It’s been seven years. We were together for so long that it felt like we were in a greenhouse, losing our sharp senses. She gave me so much love that I still haven’t even felt it leaving.”

Wan Cuirong said softly, “It’s alright. Maybe you two weren’t meant to be together. You met too young and made promises too hastily. Sometimes, separation can be a good thing.”

“Your words sound too easy.”

“But I’m telling the truth. At your age, do you even know the difference between liking someone and loving them? And…” Wan Cuirong’s tone turned scornful, “perhaps you mistook a momentary sexual impulse for love. What should have been a one-night stand, you burdened yourself with too much responsibility. You criticize me for casually dating around, but I laugh at you. How can you know what you want without experiencing enough different relationships?”

“I can’t accept your theory.”

“After that night of passion, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell her the truth when you saw her innocent eyes. So you got married, thinking you were being responsible. But in reality, you were just pushing a wrong relationship further down the wrong path. Your possessiveness, your care… perhaps these things shouldn’t have been expressed through marriage.” Wan Cuirong lit a cigarette, and as smoke curled around her, she spoke with a seductive, almost reckless tone. “East Asian societies are so repressed sexually. You and she just slept together.”

Li Tang couldn’t agree with Wan’s words.

Both women had lived abroad, but Li Tang had been immersed in an extremely conservative environment, surrounded by Christians and Muslims, while Wan Cuirong had fully adapted to the local dating culture.

“I’m always shocked by how many people in our country get married after just one romance. If you want a soulmate to share your life with, you need to progress from hanging out casually to casual dating, then to a serious relationship, and finally exclusive dating.”

Wan Cuirong blew a smoke ring toward Li Tang’s face.

“I still don’t understand how your childish marriage managed to last seven years. You two really need a clean cut. If it’s the wrong relationship forced together, it’ll only cause pain for both of you. Sometimes, ending something doesn’t mean it’s a bad ending.”

Li Tang didn’t judge Wan Cuirong. She only knew that, back then, facing Yan Mengyi with that face, if they had only been “just friends” or “best friends forever,” Yan Mengyi would have been heartbroken.

Growing up with her parents’ divorce, Li Tang had resolved at a young age to live a puritanical life. She never planned to get close to anyone, let alone marry.

For Yan Mengyi, Li Tang made many changes. She had little understanding of marriage or romance; she only knew what Yan Mengyi needed and did whatever she could.

But their relationship still reached this point.

The phone suddenly rang, breaking the night’s silence.

Li Tang immediately sat up.

Wan Cuirong glanced at her pathetic appearance, then walked over and leaned against the wall, looking down at the phone.

“It’s not the person you’re thinking of.”

Li Tang felt a pang of disappointment as she answered the call.

Qin Biham’s voice came through the receiver, gentle and courteous, yet hiding a barely perceptible sharpness: “Could you attend President Li’s birthday party tomorrow? You may bring your wife. After all, she’s your legitimate spouse, and we’ve never had the chance to meet her formally after all these years.”

Li Tang fell silent for a moment. Her voice, calm and low, seemed to suppress the turmoil within her: “I’ll consider it.”

She didn’t give a direct answer because she sensed her stepmother was probing her marriage. Beneath that veneer of kindness lay sharp, prying questions. She knew this birthday party was merely a carefully staged drama aimed at exposing the cracks in her marriage.

******

After hanging up, Li Tang slowly walked back to the bedroom and lay down on the wide, soft bed. She closed her eyes, yet felt no loneliness. Yan Mengyi’s love enveloped her like a warm tide, bringing her comfort. Her body was covered with traces of Yan Mengyi’s affection—gentle kiss marks and lingering embraces, all proof of their love.

In the mansion’s bedroom, every decoration revealed the owner’s taste and emotions. The famous paintings hanging on the walls, the antique vase in the corner, and the classical Chinese lamp on the bedside table were all carefully selected by her. Yet at that moment, these objects seemed particularly cold, as if silently expressing the loneliness in her heart.

Li Tang’s heart was filled with complex emotions. She thought of Yan Mengyi, the person who had given her love and strength. She thought of the times they had spent together, the laughter, the tears—all of them the most precious memories in her life. She knew that no matter how turbulent the world around her became, as long as Yan Mengyi was by her side, she would have the courage to face everything.

As the night deepened, Yan Mengyi lay in her simple room. The walls were covered with cheap wallpaper, and cracks in the corners revealed a hint of decay. Her mattress, bought second-hand, creaked with every turn, as if protesting this unwelcome disturbance. The air in the room was stuffy and damp, and the occasional roar of distant cars outside broke the night’s tranquility.

Suddenly, a harsh noise came from upstairs—the sound of a chair being dragged across the floor. This was followed by heated arguing, a child’s wailing, and the sounds blended together into a discordant night symphony.

Yan Mengyi frowned, her mood growing more irritable from the noise. She closed her eyes, trying to immerse herself in memories to escape the clamor of reality.

Just then, there was a loud knocking at the door. It was her roommate, the one who often got drunk. Yan Mengyi sat up in bed, her heart racing. She could feel her tension. She walked to the door, put her hand on the doorknob, but didn’t turn it.

“What do you want?”

Her voice trembled as it carried through the door. But the person outside didn’t answer, just continued knocking, each blow seeming to strike her heart.

After a long while, the knocking finally stopped. The sound of her roommate’s footsteps gradually faded away. Yan Mengyi sighed in relief, but her heart remained unsettled. She returned to the bed and sat down, her hands clutching the bedsheets tightly, her heart filled with unease and loneliness.

On such a night, Yan Mengyi’s thoughts drifted to the past, recalling the wonderful times she had shared with Li Tang. She remembered their trips together, the laughter, and the warm embraces.

She recalled a night on the street when they encountered a drunk man who rudely approached her. Li Tang immediately stepped in front of her, her firm voice and protective stance diffusing the situation. In that moment, Yan Mengyi had felt an unprecedented sense of security.

Her heart filled with longing for Li Tang, craving that feeling of being protected, that seamless understanding and connection between them.

Instead of calling Li Tang, she aimlessly scrolled through various short video platforms.

An overseas student blogger was live-streaming, earnestly explaining foreign dating culture to fellow countrymen who still yearned for the ideal of “one lifetime, one partner.”

Yan Mengyi endured the discomfort, her body heavy but her mind alert, as unfamiliar terms burrowed into her thoughts.

“Sex partner…”

“Friends with benefits…”

Was this the essence of her marriage?

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