The Husband From the Original Pairing is Now Divorced - Chapter 4

Chapter 4: The Racer — “Want to high-five?”

After seeing off Agent Xu, Sheng Jia fell into a state of aimless idleness once again.

His suitcase sat by the sofa, the apartment remained uncleaned, and there were no daily necessities in the house. Even though there were many things he could be doing, Sheng Jia simply leaned back against the simple cloth sofa, motionless, staring at the snow-white ceiling until his eyes burned.

After a long while, he sluggishly took out his phone and swiped the screen open.

The wallpaper was a photo of him and Yu Xianghang. In the picture, Yu Xianghang was pinching his cheek with a mischievous smirk, while he wore a look of indulgent affection. They were face-to-face, so intimate, so in love.

When they divorced, he told Yu Xianghang he wished him happiness, but in his heart, he still felt a bitter sense of injustice.

Why was Yu Xianghang able to let go of their relationship so easily? Why could Yu Xianghang leave and still find happiness, while he could not?

When Yu Xianghang said, “He already knows, he won’t say anything,” had he ever considered that Sheng Jia was a living, breathing human being? Someone who could feel heartache and grievance? Facing betrayal, anyone would naturally have countless questions and a well of anger they wanted to vent.

Sheng Jia had chosen not to speak—not because he was a “pushover,” but because he still wanted to earn the right to love Yu Xianghang and be loved by him. He wanted this family to support each other and keep going.

But those strange hickeys printed on his former lover’s body flashed before his eyes once again.

Sheng Jia’s lips trembled. He bit down hard, telling himself he wasn’t allowed to cry. Yu Xianghang had left decisively; therefore, he wasn’t allowed to linger or be reluctant either.

However, his tears broke through his defenses inch by inch. His heart felt as if it were being torn apart—as if someone were repeatedly using a knife to scrape the flesh from his soul. The sensation of truly, completely losing Yu Xianghang finally arrived at this moment.

The vows of the past ended today. With the grim determination of a gecko severing its own tail, Sheng Jia resolved to erase every trace Yu Xianghang had ever left behind. He would treat the past as stolen happiness—as joy bought with today’s tears. He would pay it back, pay it all back until he was clean.

When night fell, Sheng Jia cried until his eyes were dry and sore, stopping only when no more tears could flow.

He stood up unsteadily from the sofa, ate a few crackers, and began to tidy up the room. Tucking the strands of hair stuck to his cheeks by tears, his beautiful eyes were swollen and his lips bore deep teeth marks, but compared to his initial deathly stillness, he finally had a spark of life.

In the early hours of the morning, Sheng Jia chose to sleep in the living room. When he was alone, he disliked sleeping in a room with only one small window; he preferred somewhere he could see a vast stretch of the night sky. Fortunately, this apartment had floor-to-ceiling glass windows and a wide balcony, allowing him to see the bright moon.

“Goodnight, Sheng Jia.” “Even if it’s only yourself from now on, you have to live well.”

Sheng Jia lay on his side, watching the hazy night, whispering softly to himself before closing his eyes.

…

When Sheng Jia went to work at the kindergarten on Monday, Jiang He predictably sought him out during the break.

“Teacher Sheng, how is your illness? Was it heatstroke from the weather, or did you catch a cold from the AC?”

Jiang He asked with concern. He was a very lively young teacher who had only been at the kindergarten for a few days but had already befriended everyone. Even someone as quiet and taciturn as Sheng Jia would occasionally exchange a few words with him.

“I’m fine. I’m all better now.”

After thinking it over, that was the only response Sheng Jia could manage. He wasn’t good at chatting or handling other people’s concern.

But Jiang He didn’t mind at all. He nodded with a sigh of relief. “That’s good. You didn’t come to work on Friday, and we were all worried. Teacher Li even asked me privately if I knew what was wrong and if it was serious.”

Sheng Jia was stunned. He hadn’t expected colleagues he barely knew to ask about him.

In the past, whenever he felt unwell, he only told Yu Xianghang. Yu Xianghang had told him that he was the only person in the world who truly cared for him and that others were unreliable, so Sheng Jia should only talk to him. Consequently, Yu Xianghang became the only source of care Sheng Jia ever felt.

But now, Jiang He’s behavior and his casual words brought a wave of warmth to Sheng Jia’s heart.

It turned out that in this world, besides Yu Xianghang, there really were other people who cared about him.

“Teacher Sheng, there’s one more thing… you don’t mind if I gossip a little, do you?”

Jiang He suddenly leaned against the wall with a grin. He had a boyish round face and had only recently graduated; his smile carried the playful energy unique to young people.

Sheng Jia was ten years older than him and looked at Jiang He like a younger brother from next door. He signaled for him to speak.

“Last week you told me you were going to celebrate an anniversary with your partner. How did it go?”

Jiang He had never been in a relationship and was particularly curious about these things.

Sheng Jia was at a loss for how to answer. Last week, when Yu Xianghang said they would celebrate at home, he had been uncharacteristically happy and had told Jiang He honestly when asked.

But the anniversary had turned into a divorce. How was he supposed to say that? Four days ago he said, “My partner is celebrating our anniversary with me,” and now he had to answer, “I’m divorced”?

The words of the stranger in the convenience store and Agent Xu echoed in his ears: “There is definitely someone in this world who supports you… Happy Divorce. Go pursue your true happiness.” “It’s not a big deal. If it’s not a fit, it’s better to leave than to drag it out. You’re still young…”

The words he intended to use to evade the question stuck in his throat. He had truly loved Yu Xianghang, and he was the one who initiated the divorce. He didn’t regret it, and he didn’t believe it was his fault.

An indefinite IOU, two nights of agonizing crying, three years of neglected betrayal… He had given everything he could give. He had paid back everything he could pay.

In that case, why should he pretend his marriage was fine? He was divorced, and he had lost his family—that was an unavoidable fact.

“The anniversary didn’t happen. I divorced him,” Sheng Jia said calmly. The expression on his face was completely different from the anticipation and joy Jiang He had seen before, leaving the younger man startled.

Silence drifted between them. After a moment, Jiang He spoke, but he shifted to a different topic: “Teacher Sheng, I grew up in a blended family. My parents used to fight all the time, and then they’d say they only stayed together for my sake… I always carried a heavy burden of guilt, feeling like I was stopping them from pursuing their own happiness.”

“When they finally divorced, I lived with my mom. She got a new husband and they’re very much in love. My dad has a new family too; we meet up occasionally and the fighting has stopped. My parents even apologized to me, saying they shouldn’t have said those things to me back then.”

Sheng Jia watched Jiang He quietly. Very few people ever bared their hearts to him like this, so he listened intently.

“Even though we haven’t known each other long, I’ve always felt you were a very gentle person. For you to make up your mind to divorce, the other person must have done something truly bad, right?”

Jiang He’s voice grew softer. Seeing Sheng Jia’s expression flicker, he added hurriedly, “Of course, that’s just my feeling! I just want to say… I support your decision!”

“So divorce isn’t a mistake. Sometimes it’s just a stage on the way to happiness. Don’t be sad; things will get better!”

Sheng Jia didn’t respond for a long time. Jiang He’s comfort was honest and clumsy, but it allowed his heart to finally float up instead of staying submerged at the bottom.

In Jiang He’s view, Sheng Jia’s expression softened. The thin eyebrows that had been knitted all day relaxed, and his eyes regained their natural curve. His tightly pursed lips slowly, slowly eased.

The loneliness and anxiety faded from his pale face, and Sheng Jia gave a very faint smile. He seemed to be in a much better mood.

“Thank you, Teacher Jiang.”

His voice was naturally soft, and the rising tone at the end made it sound exceptionally gentle.

Jiang He’s ears flushed. He stared blankly at Sheng Jia for a long while before stuttering, “Y-You’re welcome, Teacher Sheng.”

…

From that day on, Jiang He began finding all sorts of ways to cheer Sheng Jia up. However, he had a childlike mentality, believing that as long as someone had company and fun, they would be happy.

Not only did he drag Sheng Jia to dinners with the other kindergarten teachers, but he also organized weekend activities. Sometimes Sheng Jia felt helpless from the fuss, but he didn’t show any obvious rejection.

He had been trapped in a world that only contained Yu Xianghang for too long. For many years, the only voice he heard was Yu Xianghang’s. He hadn’t realized that there were many people around him who cared for him and many lively, beautiful things waiting for him.

“Teacher Sheng, how about we go see a car race this Sunday?”

On Friday, Jiang He stopped Sheng Jia again as he was leaving work, waving two tickets in his hand.

“A car race? Isn’t that a bit dangerous?” Sheng Jia packed his things while glancing at the tickets.

“No way! We’ll be in the stands. These tickets are for the front-row Super VIP seats; the view is absolutely incredible!” Jiang He began to dance around with excitement. Sheng Jia found it a little funny, so he nodded and agreed.

“The only thing is I couldn’t get seats together. We have to sit separately.”

Jiang He’s mood dipped again. Sheng Jia took the ticket and replied casually, “It’s fine. We can walk around together after the race is over.”

…

On Sunday, as soon as they entered the venue, Jiang He couldn’t contain himself. After a few quick words with Sheng Jia, he ran off toward his seat.

With an hour until the race started, Sheng Jia slowly looked for his seat in the stands. After some effort, he found it—only to see a long-haired woman sitting in front of him. His seat was to her right, on the inside.

“Excuse me, ma’am. May I get through?”

Hearing the voice, the woman in sunglasses glanced up at Sheng Jia. She froze, appearing extremely surprised.

Sheng Jia was confused. He politely repeated himself, and only then did the woman stand up.

Afterward, she didn’t say a word. She just sat next to him, typing furiously on her phone. Sheng Jia’s heart felt suspended in mid-air; he felt that her behavior was very strange, which made him uneasy. Fortunately, thirty minutes before the race began, the woman put her phone away and didn’t try to talk to him at all.

Sheng Jia knew nothing about racing. He watched in a daze, only able to judge the progress of the race by the reactions of the crowd. When the people around him got loud, he blinked and looked at the track; when they got quiet, he withdrew his gaze and observed the venue.

His calmness was a stark contrast to the crowd, but luckily the woman next to him was the same. She remained motionless and silent throughout.

Sheng Jia was getting a bit bored. Suddenly, the people behind him began whistling wildly and waving flags. He was startled, his scattered attention snapping back to the track.

A black-and-white race car tore toward the finish line like an unstoppable force, then slammed to a halt, tires kicking up white smoke. Through the smoke, the door opened and a tall figure climbed out.

Applause and whistles erupted. Sheng Jia heard everyone around him shouting a name: “Zhou Zifei!”

The man stood at the finish line, then actually began walking toward the spectator stands. He was dressed in a red-and-black racing suit; he was tall with long legs and broad shoulders. Amidst the screams and flashing cameras, he pulled off his helmet.

His dyed-red hair was a bit messy and stood up in places, revealing a smooth forehead. He pulled off his gloves and waved to the section where Sheng Jia was sitting, then blew a stylish kiss.

“He’s really being a show-off today,” the woman sitting to Sheng Jia’s left said coldly. Sheng Jia thought it was lucky they were far from the screaming crowds in the back, otherwise, the waving flags might have hit them.

As the young racer approached, Sheng Jia finally saw his face clearly. He had thick, sword-like eyebrows and sharp eyes with upturned corners. His lips were thin. It was a face that looked highly aggressive, yet right now, a faint smile hung on it.

Sheng Jia still felt he looked a bit fierce. Beyond that, he also found him somewhat familiar.

The racer named “Zhou Zifei” suddenly started running. He cheered and reached out to the stands, high-fiving the people in the front row one by one. The wind caught his messy red hair; he grinned, looking radiant and full of spirit.

Sheng Jia felt a strange stir in his heart. He lowered his eyes, not daring to look further, and leaned back in his seat to avoid the interaction.

However, the woman next to him—who had just insulted Zhou Zifei—lazily reached out her hand. With a crisp smack, she retracted her hand, and the red-haired racer came to a stop right in front of Sheng Jia.

“Want to high-five?”

Sheng Jia hadn’t expected him to stop on purpose, let alone reach out both hands.

Zhou Zifei stood below the stands. He held both hands high, looking up at Sheng Jia. His eyes were exceptionally bright, filled with joy.

In this moment, Sheng Jia felt this man was like a large dog begging for a treat. He had a neighbor who owned a German Shepherd—it looked fierce, but it always panted and had sparkling eyes when acting spoiled in front of its owner. The young racer looked exactly like that dog.

“If you don’t high-five him, he won’t leave,” the woman said. She knew her younger brother’s temperament best: he was a show-off, stubborn, and could tear the roof off when he got going.

And the person next to her was the focus of Zhou Zifei’s years of obsession.

Sheng Jia asked “What?” in confusion, but the woman had already stood up to leave.

Ultimately, Sheng Jia helplessly reached out and lightly touched his palms against the other’s.

Zhou Zifei immediately caught Sheng Jia’s hands and interlaced their fingers. With great force, he pulled the other man a bit closer, staring intently into Sheng Jia’s eyes. He whispered: “Thank you.”

The moist heat of his breath brushed against Sheng Jia’s face. He smelled a faint scent of cologne mixed with the gasoline of the race car—a scent that was entirely novel to him. The sudden proximity of the man’s face caught him off guard, causing Sheng Jia to let out a small gasp.

Fortunately, Zhou Zifei quickly released his hands. But his brow remained relaxed, and his gaze didn’t leave Sheng Jia’s face, appearing somewhat reluctant to go. He backed away silently for a few steps before running toward the other side.

The moment their fingers detached, Sheng Jia felt as if Zhou Zifei had given his hand a firm squeeze.

After Zhou Zifei’s figure disappeared into the distance, Sheng Jia’s fingers were still trembling for some unknown reason, bearing the red marks where they had been squeezed.

And that lingering, warm heat from being held tightly.

“Wow, today’s race was truly incredible!”

Jiang He found Sheng Jia immediately after the race. Once they met up, he began to gush with excitement.

Sheng Jia listened silently for a while before finally asking, “That person named Zhou Zifei… is he very famous?”

“Teacher Sheng, you’re interested in him?” Jiang He asked in surprise. He had brought Sheng Jia to the race just to help him relax; he hadn’t expected him to take the initiative to ask about a racer.

“N-No, I’m not interested in him!” Sheng Jia said hurriedly. He was so anxious to explain that he even stuttered.

Jiang He was taken aback, then burst into laughter, slapping Sheng Jia on the shoulder like a good friend. “Hey, I meant are you interested in his racing history?”

“Not really. It’s just… he came to the stands today to high-five us, so…”

So what? Sheng Jia couldn’t figure it out himself. He just felt the man looked familiar, and plus, out of the entire race, this was the only person who had left an impression on him.

“I saw that too! I heard people near me saying that it’s quite rare. Zhou Zifei is known for being arrogant and having a bad temper; interacting with the audience like that rarely happens.”

“And Zhou Zifei is only twenty-two this year. Some say he might win the annual championship before he’s thirty.”

Jiang He scratched his head after his explanation. “But then again, I’ve only recently gotten into this field. That’s just what I’ve heard others say.”

Sheng Jia nodded and didn’t ask anything else about Zhou Zifei. But that person, that name, had left a fleeting streak of red in his barren and monotonous world.

He thought everything that happened today was just a minor interlude. He didn’t know that in a few weeks, he and Zhou Zifei would meet again.

Nor did he know that over the past few years, Zhou Zifei had passed him countless times, only to stop and watch his retreating back for a long, long time.

Long before the day they were officially introduced, Sheng Jia had already become the cleanest, whitest handful of snow in Zhou Zifei’s heart.