On Her Wedding Night, She Transmigrated To The Aftermath Of Her Divorce - Chapter 19

Yu Yan opened her eyes, silently praying countless times.

This is all a dream, a terrifying nightmare after I fainted. I haven’t lost my memory, I haven’t time-traveled, and it’s not 2025. I must still be in my soft, comfortable bed at the manor, with Fu Yunqing by my side, anxiously waiting for me to wake up.

She took a deep breath, mustered her courage, and forced her eyes open. Her heart sank again.

God, just give me a nightmare to scare me, not this! How could I suddenly jump three years into the future? It’s impossible! It defies the laws of nature! There’s no scientific basis for this!

Why is this happening to me?

Yu Yan glared at the ceiling, seething with anger. Lu Yu leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching her with amusement.

“Still not getting up?”

“How many times do I have to tell you before you give up?”

The Young Mistress stubbornly clung to the belief that she was trapped in a nightmare, fantasizing about waking up and returning to reality. In truth, this was already her first week in the future.

“Breakfast is getting cold.”

She didn’t want to hear Lu Yu’s voice right now.

“Cold breakfast doesn’t taste good. I’m worried you won’t be able to swallow it later.”

“Even if it were hot, I wouldn’t be able to swallow it!” The Vengeful Corpse on the bed suddenly spoke out loud.

The breakfast Lu Yu was referring to was soy milk and fried dough sticks that she’d bought downstairs. Yu Yan had seen the stall set up next to a trash can, the oil blackened from countless uses. Who knew if it was gutter oil?

She couldn’t accept it.

Unable to face reality, she absolutely refused to eat those fried dough sticks.

“Are you being serious? It’s ten meters away from the trash can. Sesame oil is naturally dark. Grandma’s been selling these downstairs for over a decade. No fried dough sticks in Yun City taste better than hers,” Lu Yu said.

Yu Yan replied in a weak, ghostly voice, “That’s because you haven’t eaten at a proper restaurant in years. You’ve gotten used to street food, Lu Yu.”

Lu Yu countered, “Actually, you’ve gotten used to it too.”

By 2025, Yu Yan had long shed her Young Mistress airs and become even more down-to-earth than Lu Yu.

But the Yu Yan whose memories were still stuck in 2022 couldn’t accept this. “I could never stoop that low,” she insisted, her composure cracking. “Never.”

Lu Yu laughed, delivering the harsh truth: “But you’ve already spent all your money.”

It was true. Yu Yan had burned through every last penny she had.

When she first transmigrated, she’d tallied her assets: bank cards, WeChat Pay, Alipay—barely ten thousand yuan total. Refusing to accept reality, the Young Mistress clung to the delusion that she was dreaming. She splurged recklessly, even harboring the fantasy that spending all her money would somehow send her back. In just two days, she’d squandered it all.

Yu Yan’s spending power remained formidable, but her ATM had vanished.

And Lu Yu was certainly not her ATM.

“If you don’t eat now, it’ll get cold and lose its crispness.”

Why was she even talking about crispness? Was that the real issue here? Yu Yan would rather starve than touch that gutter oil-soaked food.

Lu Yu sighed. “Then I’ll order you some porridge.”

“What kind do you want? You don’t like century egg… How about Eight Treasures Porridge? Or lean meat porridge?”

“I want the Cantonese dim sum from that place on Nanjing West Road.”

“The one you had a couple of days ago?”

“Mm-hmm.”

Lu Yu immediately vetoed it. “It’s good, but no way.”

“Just ordering two dishes there costs over a thousand yuan, Young Mistress. I don’t have that kind of money to waste on you. Rent’s due soon, and I haven’t even been paid yet.”

Yu Yan fell silent.

Lu Yu knew she was staging a silent protest, but what could she do? If she kept indulging her like this, Yu Yan would burn through her meager savings in no time.

“Let’s just order from Five Grains Porridge Shop. I’ll get you the pork rib porridge. But you have to promise to eat it.”

“……”

Yu Yan’s silence dragged on so long that Lu Yu’s order was about to time out. Finally, under Lu Yu’s urging, she reluctantly mumbled, “Okay.”

Lu Yu paid for the order. “Alright, get up and wash your face first.”

Yu Yan had been utterly listless these past few days, dragging herself out of bed with a sigh and shuffling to the bathroom.

There was only one bathroom in the apartment, which she shared with Lu Yu. Lu Yu kept it spotless, with no trace of grime and a subtle jasmine scent from the diffuser.

Yu Yan splashed water on her face and glanced at her reflection in the mirror. She looked three years older.

What had happened in those three years?

She’d considered asking for help from others, maybe borrowing some money to tide her over. After all, she had plenty of wealthy friends.

But things had changed.

She’d lost touch with all her former romantic interests, even Li Tong. Her three roommates? Their dorm group chat had been silent for half a year.

All their old messages were gone, as if wiped clean. When Yu Yan checked their social media, she saw they’d all moved on with their lives, while she remained stuck in the past. Under such circumstances, she couldn’t bring herself to suddenly reach out, to whine, or to ask for favors.

She was completely bewildered.

She asked Lu Yu why she had given up socializing and even raising fish. Lu Yu vaguely replied that it was because of her divorce from Fu Yunqing and her mother’s bankruptcy, which had left her feeling down.

Oh, right, Yu Yan thought. She couldn’t even imagine how devastated she had been back then. The young mistress of a ten-billion-dollar fortune had fallen from grace overnight, becoming penniless and homeless. It was a miracle she hadn’t gone mad; she certainly didn’t have the energy for trivial pursuits.

So now she had no mother, no money, no wife, and had even lost all her former friends, right?

Yu Yan never could have predicted that three years later, she would be in such a miserable state. The more she thought about it, the more heartbroken and hopeless she felt. Returning to the table, she was forced to confront the rain-soaked plastic bag the delivery rider had brought.

Yu Yan couldn’t even figure out how to untie the knot. After fumbling with it for a while, she finally managed to open it. The congee smelled strongly of artificial flavoring, with two pork ribs and a sprinkle of scallions. Yu Yan took a sip. Though it didn’t taste salty, after a few mouthfuls, her mouth felt numb and dry, as if she had eaten salt. It must have been loaded with artificial additives.

At least I can eat this.

At least it’ll keep me alive for a while.

She knew Lu Yu was doing her best.

Lu Yu, who knew how spoiled she was, had been remarkably patient, never pressuring her to find a job. Even if all she fed her was cheap food, at least she was keeping her housed and fed. If Yu Yan kept acting up, and Lu Yu got fed up and kicked her out, what would she do? Jump in the river?

She had to behave. What else could she do?

Lu Yu left for work before Yu Yan finished her porridge. She worked at a travel agency, a twenty-minute subway ride from home. Usually, Yu Yan would wait for her to get off work so they could order takeout together. After all, even junk food felt less depressing when shared with her sister. But today, Lu Yu had texted her earlier, telling her to eat dinner on her own. After agonizing over the options, Yu Yan finally settled on a sushi place with perfect reviews.

Though Yu Yan couldn’t cook or do dishes, she was at least tidy. She couldn’t stand living in a mess. After finishing her takeout, she stuffed the trash into a bag and left it outside the door, then wiped down the table.

Then she sat on the sofa, staring blankly.

By nine o’clock that evening, Lu Yu still hadn’t come home.

Suddenly, Yu Yan felt sorry for Lu Yu.

She regretted spending so much money these past few days. She should at least help Lu Yu with the rent.

But now it was too late. Yu Yan only had a few hundred yuan left in her account, money Lu Yu had transferred to her. Lu Yu said it was for her meal card, giving her only a week’s worth at a time to keep her from overspending.

So boring.

There was no TV, just a projector. Yu Yan didn’t know how to use it and wasn’t in the mood to watch anything anyway. She’d been so down lately, neglecting everything. She hadn’t even bothered with makeup or skincare for ages. Suddenly, as if realizing something, she rushed to the bathroom and stared at her reflection for a long time before finally relaxing.

Apart from the scar on her forehead and the slight dullness from her messed-up sleep schedule, her skin looked much the same as it had three years ago.

At least I’m still a fallen beauty.

Good.

Yu Yan decided to cheer herself up by putting on some makeup. Three years later, she was using cheap brands she’d never even heard of before, but her eye for choosing products was still sharp. Even these affordable options suited her well enough to make do.

Now that she was done with her makeup, what should she do? It was late, and she didn’t want to go out, but she also didn’t want to take it off just yet. Almost without thinking, she opened TikTok. She’d already created an account, though she’d never posted any videos, mostly just liking posts of pretty girls. Her username was the default “userxxxx,” which Yu Yan found annoying, so she changed it to “Don’t Get Fooled by Women Again.”

She turned off the lights and brought the night light from her room to provide soft lighting. Curling up on the sofa, she took several selfies, some while sitting up, others while lying down. In the dimly lit room, it was hard to tell day from night. Yu Yan’s eyes looked vulnerable, a mix of brokenness and a hint of calculated allure, as if she was drunk. The photos perfectly captured the vibe of someone heartbroken and scarred by love. Yu Yan was pleased.

She chose a trending background music track and posted the photos as a video with the hashtag #LE and the caption: “Who will care about my pain? Who will solve it for me?”

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