Chapter 2: Salvaging the Marriage

Chu Dongye closed the box, stuffed the necklace into his shirt, and hugged it as he ran downstairs.

Holding the box aloft, he shouted excitedly to the man, "Dad, you're finally back! I've got everything ready. Let's go right now!"

"Any later, Aunt Yaoyao will be waiting!"

Chu Mulin's gaze slowly swept up to Jiang Zaozao, who stood by the second-floor railing. His footsteps faltered slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his eyes.

She's actually at home?

His brow furrowed slightly.

In his memory, at this hour, she should have been seated in a VIP booth at some high-end bar, surrounded by friends and laughing cheerfully.

After all, the assets allocated to her in the divorce agreement were vast enough to last her several lifetimes.

Yet, her whereabouts had long since ceased to be of any concern to him.

Their marriage was like a pair of old railway tracks that had reached their end.

Broken, desolate, and beyond repair.

In another month, once the legal proceedings were finalized, there would be no ties left between them.

Just as Chu Mulin withdrew his gaze and lifted his foot to leave with his son, Chu Dongye, a voice called out.

"A'mu..."

His footsteps froze instantly.

Then, he spun around.

"Who are you calling?"

"A'mu?"

Jiang Zaozao gazed into his eyes, biting her lip, and tentatively called his name again.

Hadn't she always called him that?

From the very first day they met, she had addressed him this way.

She had thought this name was a secret code belonging only to them.

But Chu Mulin seemed to have long forgotten it.

He stood there, his brow furrowed slightly.

In an instant, a memory of a summer afternoon from years ago flashed before his eyes.

She had been wearing a sky-blue floral dress, a wide-brimmed straw hat shading half her face.

Hearing his name, she tilted her head, a playful smile touching her lips.

"Chu Mulin? That's such a mouthful. I can't even say it right. I'll just call you A'mu. It sounds so much smoother, so much wilder."

At the time, he had merely spared her a cool glance, his tone indifferent.

"Suit yourself."

From then on, every time she saw him, she would bounce in front of him, smiling and calling, "A'mu!"

But now, ten years had passed.

In truth, Jiang Zaozao had not intended to stop him this time.

She stood behind the second-floor railing, intending only to watch him leave with their child.

But the moment he turned, memories of their past flooded back, reminding her of how deeply she had once loved him.

If I want to save this marriage, she told herself, I have to be the one to make the first move.

After a long moment, Chu Mulin withdrew his cold gaze.

He looked down at his son and said softly, "Dongye, go wait for Daddy in the car."

Chu Dongye glanced up at his mother, hesitating for a moment. Finally, he nodded obediently and ran toward the car waiting at the entrance.

Only after the child had left did Chu Mulin walk up the stairs, stopping right in front of Jiang Zaozao.

He glanced at his watch.

"Five minutes," he said, his voice flat.

Jiang Zaozao let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, her tense nerves finally relaxing.

A smile touched her lips. When she smiled, she was truly beautiful.

Thank goodness, she thought. He's willing to listen to me for a few minutes.

If he hadn't even given me five minutes, then this marriage would be utterly hopeless.

Chu Mulin looked down at her face, his originally stern expression momentarily faltering.

What is she smiling at?

Is this something worth such joy?

Jiang Zaozao looked up, her fingertips trembling slightly as her gaze finally met his. She swallowed hard, her throat so dry it almost ached.

"Are you free tomorrow night? Could we have dinner together?"

The moment the words left her lips, Aunt Wang, who was wiping the banister downstairs, widened her eyes. Her hand shook, and she nearly dropped the rag.

What's wrong with Madam?

In all these years, Madam has never once taken the initiative to invite Sir home for a meal!

Aunt Wang's mind was in turmoil, but she dared not make a sound, only holding her breath to eavesdrop.

"I understand. You decide the time and place, then let me know."

With that, he turned to leave.

"A'mu, wait—"

Jiang Zaozao hurriedly called out to stop him.

Chu Mulin paused, slowly turning around, a flicker of obvious impatience crossing his eyes.

Yet Jiang Zaozao kept smiling, though the smile was strained.

"There are some things I want to say to you alone."

She paused, taking a deep breath.

"Five minutes is a bit short... Can you come back a little earlier tonight?"

Chu Mulin's expression darkened instantly.

His gaze fell upon her face, then quickly averted.

The air froze for a few seconds.

After a long while—so long that Jiang Zaozao almost thought he wouldn't respond—he finally spoke.

"Yes."

Watching his retreating back, Jiang Zaozao finally breathed a sigh of relief. Cold sweat trickled down her spine, soaking into her silk nightgown.

Once Chu Mulin was gone, she slowly walked back to her room.

The door closed.

Jiang Zaozao collapsed in front of the dressing table mirror.

The face in the mirror was haggard and sallow, her lips parched and cracked.

Just one glance almost stole her breath.

Suddenly, as if remembering something, she turned and rushed downstairs, straight to the warehouse.

The wooden door creaked open, dust motes dancing in the light.

Ignoring the musty smell that assaulted her, she knelt on the floor, searching corner by corner.

After a while, her fingertips finally brushed against a hard box.

Her movements froze, her heart pounding.

Thank God, it's still here.

Her hand trembled as she slowly lifted the lid.

As it opened, the faint scent of camphor and old paper wafted out.

Inside the box lay a single, yellowed photograph.

Three people were in the picture, all smiling radiantly as sunlight bathed their faces.

The little girl in the middle was Jiang Zaozao, her hair tied in two small braids.

To her left stood a young man with neatly combed-back hair, wearing an old-fashioned white shirt. That was her eldest brother, Jiang Size.

The woman to her right had long hair cascading down her shoulders, her features delicate and gentle. She smiled softly, looking almost identical to Jiang Zaozao. This was her second sister, Jiang Qingqing.

Her eldest brother had always protected her since childhood.

And her second sister had always cherished her, holding her in the palm of her hand.

But now? Her brother had coldly told her over the phone, "From now on, you are no longer a member of the Jiang family."

Her second sister wouldn't even look at her.

The last time they met, she had only left her with a single sentence: "You are not worthy of being Dongye's mother."

Beneath the photo, a yellowed diary lay pressed at the bottom of the box.

The cover was a faded blue checkered cloth, its corners spotted with faint mildew and the pages slightly curled.

She carefully lifted it out, her fingertips brushing over the cover.

She opened the diary, turning the pages one by one.

The handwriting evolved from childish scrawls to a mature script, chronicling every moment of her growth.

The final page was dated two years ago.

That day, Chu Dongye had attended his first day of kindergarten.

The page was densely covered with words she had wanted to say to her child.

Some sentences were left unfinished, as if she had stopped writing mid-thought.