Lu Qi was her childhood friend, a classic trust-fund kid. “Are you sure about this?” Lu Qi asked, testing the waters. “I’ve never been more certain.” A faint smile had played on Rong Shu’s lips ever since she’d walked out. She had always been exquisitely beautiful, but this smile seemed to chase away years of gloom, leaving her face bright and clear. Lu Qi sighed. “I thought you’d never get over him. I’ve been worried sick about you for the last six years. Why, of all people, did you have to fall for that scumbag?” Rong Shu tapped her chin. “I know, right? How could I have been so stupid?” “Good thing you snapped out of it before it was too late. Another six years of this, and you’d be old and washed up,” Lu Qi continued, joking. “I was even thinking, if he kicked you out when you’re old, I’d reluctantly marry you just to keep you company. We’re childhood sweethearts, after all.” Rong Shu shot him a look. “Don’t jinx it.” “Right. Here are the divorce papers you asked me to prepare. Take a look.” Taking the stack of documents from him, Rong Shu flipped through them casually. “I’m not taking a single thing of Fu Jingting’s. I owed him nothing before, and I’ll owe him nothing in the future.” She signed her name without a moment’s hesitation. Seeing how decisive she was, Lu Qi couldn’t help but grin. “Attagirl. Making a clean break of it.” Rong Shu capped the pen, a single eyebrow arched. “Let’s go. To Renmin Hospital.” “You got it, Your Highness.” The top floor of the hospital was reserved for VIP patients. Finding Room 1203, Rong Shu knocked once before turning the handle and pushing her way inside. On the bed, a delicate-looking woman seemed startled by her arrival. She shrank back under the covers, her eyes wide with terror and brimming with tears, her fear of Rong Shu palpable. Fu Jingting’s face darkened instantly, his voice like chips of ice. “What are you doing here?” Rong Shu calmly retrieved the divorce papers from her purse and held them out to him. “Sign this, and I’ll be gone.” Fu Jingting took the papers. As he read them, his expression grew stonier with each passing second, his voice chillingly cold. “You want a divorce?” “What else?” Rong Shu tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her smile gentle yet utterly detached. “These past six years must have been so hard on you. Sign this, and you’ll finally be free, won’t you?” Fu Jingting’s brow furrowed, his face a cold mask. His expression was grave as he tried to figure out what kind of game she was playing now. Just then, from the bed, Gu Manyin called out weakly, “Jingting…” That single word was like a signal. Fu Jingting glanced at Gu Manyin, then his gaze returned to Rong Shu’s face. His throat worked. “We’ll discuss this at home. Leave now. You’re disturbing Manyin.” Rong Shu laughed, a sound devoid of warmth. “I’m serious. You were going to bring Ms. Gu home anyway, right? My leaving just makes things easier. That way, I won’t be an eyesore to you both.” “Rong. Shu!” The man’s voice was dangerously low, his patience worn to a thread. “Careful, Ms. Gu is watching,” Rong Shu said, the corners of her lips curling into an elegant, captivating smile. “Unless… have you fallen for me? Is that why you don’t want to let me go?” Gu Manyin looked at Fu Jingting, her expression pitiful and helpless as she tried to gauge his thoughts. “Jingting, what’s wrong?” Rong Shu watched the man with cold eyes, waiting for his decision. “Fine. I’ll sign,” Fu Jingting bit out, his lips pressed into a thin, hard line, his face exceptionally cold. Rong Shu smiled, satisfied. Taking the signed divorce papers from him, she turned and walked away with a flourish, without a single backward glance. The moment she was out of the hospital room, however, the tears she had been holding back began to stream down her face. Six years of marriage, eight years of love—all of it washed away for nothing. The human heart isn’t made of stone. To say it didn’t hurt would be a lie. It felt as if a needle were piercing her heart, each beat a fresh, throbbing pang of pain.