The Husband From the Original Pairing is Now Divorced - Chapter 2

Chapter 2: The IOU — “Sheng Jia, is there someone else?”

Yu Xianghang froze for a moment, staring at Sheng Jia with a speechless mix of surprise and confusion.

Sheng Jia repeated himself: “Let’s get a divorce.”

He stood by the kitchen sink, dressed in his usual black trousers and a light-colored long-sleeved top. Everything looked the same as always, except his face was dull and lifeless.

A sharp sting hit Yu Xianghang’s heart when he saw the look in Sheng Jia’s eyes. He strode into the kitchen and suddenly interrogated him: “Sheng Jia, have you had it too good for too long? Do you have to go out of your way to find trouble?”

On that face—the one Sheng Jia had gazed at and kissed countless times—appeared a foreign expression that made him lower his head, unable to look further.

Yu Xianghang’s brow was furrowed with impatience and disgust.

Sheng Jia had always loved Yu Xianghang’s eyes: the narrow eyelids, the clear pupils. He always looked like a bright, sunny youth.

But these eyes, which once flickered with love and made Sheng Jia’s heart race with every glance, had now turned into knives carving out his heart.

That man at the store was right. Once you recognize the fact that the other person no longer loves you, all the evidence lays itself out before you. It tells you that the betrayal and harm have been incredibly real and incredibly painful from the very beginning.

“Xianghang, I’m not throwing a tantrum, and I’m not looking for trouble. I’ve already made up my mind.” Sheng Jia’s voice faltered. He lifted his head, summoning all his courage to continue: “I want a divorce.”

Yu Xianghang let out a sneer. He stepped closer and, in a fit of irritation, grabbed Sheng Jia by the collar and yanked him forward.

“You’re telling me you want a divorce on our wedding anniversary?”

“I was wondering why you came home so late tonight. Sheng Jia, do you have someone else out there? Is the guy outside getting impatient?”

Sheng Jia looked at the man before him in disbelief. How could Yu Xianghang suggest he was seeing someone else?

Only a few hours ago, Yu Xianghang was sleeping with someone else. How could he be so malicious as to speculate that Sheng Jia was the one who betrayed the marriage first?

How could he be so self-righteous, so composed in his accusations, acting as if Sheng Jia was the one breaking his heart?

Sheng Jia’s chest heaved, and his body began to tremble. He gripped Yu Xianghang’s wrist; his fingers were ice-cold.

“Yu… Yu Xianghang, I want a divorce.”

“I want a divorce.”

He couldn’t find the words to explain. He just repeated that one sentence over and over, falling back into the helplessness of his youth. Back then, no matter how he begged for mercy or said he didn’t want something, it was useless—but as a weak child, that had been his only way to show resistance.

In the past, Yu Xianghang protected him from harm. Now, this person had become the very source of his pain.

Yu Xianghang narrowed his eyes. With a cold face, he tried to pull Sheng Jia out of the kitchen. Sheng Jia struggled to break free from the grip on his wrist, but he lost his balance, stumbling and crashing into the dining table, which slid back with a harsh, grating screech.

“Today is our sixth anniversary. We’ve been together for ten years. I intended to spend the evening with you, but if this is what you’re going to say, I’m leaving right now. When you’ve calmed down, I’ll come back.”

Tears welled up in Sheng Jia’s eyes. How ridiculous—Yu Xianghang actually remembered they had been together for ten years.

Yu Xianghang fell in love with him at nineteen, married him at twenty-four; this was their tenth year.

Seeing Sheng Jia’s tears, Yu Xianghang suppressed his temper. His tone softened slightly.

“Crying again? Fine, fine. I won’t leave. I’ll act like I never heard what you just said.”

“Really, why bring up divorce when everything was fine?”

He reached out to wipe the tears from Sheng Jia’s face, but Sheng Jia tilted his head to avoid him, leaving Yu Xianghang’s hand hanging in mid-air.

“Yu Xianghang… I want a divorce. I’m seri—”

Before he could finish, Yu Xianghang suddenly moved in, pinning Sheng Jia against the dining table and grabbing his slender chin to force a kiss.

“Don’t touch me!”

Sheng Jia screamed, a shrill and desperate sound. He shoved Yu Xianghang back with all his might, making the man stumble.

He raised his arm and frantically wiped his chin with his sleeve until the skin turned red, yet his trembling fingers wouldn’t stop.

Yu Xianghang finally realized Sheng Jia wasn’t joking.

The person before him was deathly pale, and those eyes—usually full of smiles—were filled with nothing but resistance. He was clearly terrified, shaking as if he might collapse at any moment, yet he stood his ground, repeating clearly and firmly: “I want a divorce.”

“Fine. Divorce, is it?”

Yu Xianghang pulled out his phone and opened a chat with Sheng Jia’s father, showing him the transfer records.

“Go ahead and leave. But all those debts I paid off for your family—the money your dad came to me for behind your back—you’ll have to pay that back if we divorce, right?”

“And the house. I bought the house. You can’t live here anymore!”

His gaze shifted down to Sheng Jia’s left hand, where a ring sat on his ring finger. He sneered: “I bought the ring, too. Should you return that as well?”

Sheng Jia’s pupils dilated as he stared at the phone. He had no idea his biological father was still in contact with Yu Xianghang, let alone asking him for money.

He reached out to take the phone, but Yu Xianghang moved it away.

“You… you told me before that he was sentenced by the court and wouldn’t show up again!”

Sheng Jia looked at Yu Xianghang in horror. Yu Xianghang replied mockingly: “Sheng Jia, how are you still as naive as ever? Do you really think Sheng Qianlong is that easy to get rid of? The only reason you’ve had a peaceful life these last few years is because I’ve been paying for your stability!”

Seeing that Sheng Jia had pulled his hand back and looked completely broken, Yu Xianghang put away his phone. He pressed Sheng Jia down into a chair and then squatted to hold his long, cold fingers.

He expected Sheng Jia’s thoughts of divorce to be extinguished. He thought that with a few more comforting words, they would make up. But in the next second, Sheng Jia spoke.

“I will pay you back. I don’t want the house. I’ll give the ring back to you. I don’t want any of our marital assets.”

Yu Xianghang’s expression darkened. He stood up with his back to Sheng Jia and let out a long, frustrated breath.

He was exhausted from his afternoon “affair,” and now he had to deal with Sheng Jia’s petty emotions. He was becoming truly, deeply impatient.

“Can you even pay it off? How much do you earn, and how much have I spent? How are you going to pay me back?”

“Sheng Jia, stop acting up. You used to blame me for not spending time with you, so I hurried back from the office specifically to be with you tonight, and you still want to fight!”

Sheng Jia remained silent. He looked down, pinched the plain wedding band, and slowly pulled it off.

Because it hadn’t been removed in six years, the ring was tight. The base of his finger turned red from the friction, but he seemed not to feel the pain, focusing entirely on removing it.

When he first put it on, he felt like the luckiest person in the world. Now, taking it off, he still remembered the moment Yu Xianghang proposed.

“Sheng Jia, will you marry me?”

“I will always love you and protect you. You never have to be afraid again.”

“I’ll give you a happy home.”

Yu Xianghang, a fresh university graduate, had knelt on one knee and held his hand, speaking with such sincerity.

The stars in the night sky couldn’t compare to the light in Yu Xianghang’s eyes back then. How could Sheng Jia not have been moved?

“I can write an IOU. You decide the monthly repayment amount. When you say it’s paid off, then it’s paid off.”

“As for Sheng Qianlong… give me his contact information. I’ll deal with him. You don’t have to worry about him anymore.”

Yu Xianghang turned around irritably, only to find Sheng Jia standing behind him, holding out his left palm.

In it lay a small ring. The palm holding it was covered in the lines Yu Xianghang knew best, and the ring finger where it had sat for six years still bore a faint, circular mark.

“The ring is back. I can write the IOU right now. Tomorrow, we go to file for divorce.”

Sheng Jia looked at him. The corners of his eyes were red, but his pupils were like a pool of stagnant water—still and lifeless.

A piece of white paper was brought from the study. The cap of a black pen was removed. Soon, the faint scratching of a pen filled the room. Quickly, an IOU appeared before Yu Xianghang.

The word “IOU” was written at the top, followed by lines of elegant handwriting:

I, Sheng Jia, hereby owe Yu Xianghang an unspecified amount of money. The specific amount is to be determined by the lender, Yu Xianghang. The loan term begins on July 17, 2025, with monthly repayments on the 1st of each month. The end date and interest are to be determined by the lender, Yu Xianghang.

It was a messy IOU riddled with loopholes, but Sheng Jia signed it quickly, pressed his thumbprint onto it, and pushed the paper toward Yu Xianghang.

Yu Xianghang didn’t move. He stared at the absurd document for a long time before asking: “Sheng Jia, are you sure? I say how much you pay, and you pay it? I say how long you pay, and you pay it?”

Sheng Jia gave a soft “Mm.” He placed the wedding ring to the side; since Yu Xianghang hadn’t taken it, he could only leave it on the table.

Yu Xianghang snatched the pen and scribbled his name. He said coldly: “Sheng Jia, don’t come back and try to negotiate with me later—I won’t listen. Since you want a divorce so badly, move out tonight.”

The IOU was made in duplicate. After Sheng Jia tucked his copy away, he went to the bedroom to pack his clothes.

The room still lingered with that suggestive scent. Yu Xianghang remembered to shower, but he didn’t think to clear the air. Sheng Jia let out a mocking smile as he caught the scent.

Yu Xianghang was not a careful person. That was why Sheng Jia had seen the message “When are you coming to sleep with me?” on the phone screen; why he had seen the torn wrapper by the sofa; why he had pushed open the ajar door today.

Yet, Yu Xianghang was also a careful person. He knew from various signs that Sheng Jia couldn’t leave him; he knew Sheng Jia would tolerate his cheating time and again. He knew that this time, Sheng Jia’s talk of “divorce” was real.

“I’m leaving.”

Sheng Jia stood by the door with a suitcase, his hand on the handle. After a moment, he added: “There are groceries I bought in the kitchen. Don’t skip dinner, or your stomach will hurt. In the future…”

Before he could finish, a vase was smashed violently against the wall, nearly grazing his shoulder.

Crash. Shards fell at his feet, accompanied by Yu Xianghang’s cold voice: “If you’re going, then get out!”

Sheng Jia’s vision blurred again. He stared at the vase with the daisy pattern—the one they had picked out together when they first moved in.

He said no more. He pressed the handle, stepped over the shards, and closed the door without looking back or making a sound.

The night was deep. The streetlights flickered on just as Sheng Jia stepped out of the complex. He looked up at the bright lights, yet felt as though he was being swallowed by an even denser darkness.

He couldn’t see the road ahead. He didn’t know how he would support his life alone.

Building a happy family with Yu Xianghang, growing old together—these were the goals he had always yearned for and pursued. Now, they were gone.

Like a hollow puppet, Sheng Jia walked calmly to a hotel, booked a room, and swiped his card.

He closed the door. Tick-tock. The clock in the room was ticking, a sound that felt exceptionally loud in the silent, dark room.

Nights without company always reminded Sheng Jia of the days when Sheng Qianlong locked him in the basement as a child.

He inserted the key card into the slot. The room lit up instantly. As he raised and lowered his arm, his sleeve slid down, revealing his forearm.

It was covered in a dense pattern of scars and several dark pits—burn marks from cigarettes.

It was too quiet. So quiet it felt like he was the only person left in the world.

Sheng Jia stepped into the room, but his legs gave way. He finally couldn’t hold on any longer. He collapsed onto the floor, motionless. His nose hit the ground directly; the sharp sting brought tears to his eyes.

Why did it end like this?

An IOU came before a divorce agreement. Infidelity came before a lifetime of happiness. Betrayal came before bliss.

Could a sentence like “the debt is to be determined by Yu Xianghang” ever pay back the years of emotion and fate? Could it pay back the tears shed and the love given on their journey together?

Sheng Jia didn’t know. He really didn’t know.

All he knew was that starting today, he was alone once again.

Curling his body into a tight ball, Sheng Jia wrapped his arms around himself and began to sob uncontrollably.

His eyelashes clumped together, and he gasped for air as if breathing were a struggle. Finally, he balled his hands into fists and pounded them against his thin chest, hoping only that the pain in his heart would lessen.

Tears flowed from the corners of his eyes, dripping onto the floor, seemingly forming a small puddle—yet it could not hold the vastness of Sheng Jia’s sorrow and pain.