Chapter 110 Divorce Agreement

Huo Yanli's gaze was fixed on the brown paper document bag handed to him. The bag was ordinary, without any markings, but under the dim streetlights, it seemed to exude a cold, unquestionable aura.

He felt as if the blood in his body had frozen instantly, then rushed to his head, and his eardrums were ringing.

He raised his hand very slowly and took the file folder. His fingertips trembled almost imperceptibly as they touched the rough surface of the paper.

He didn't open it immediately, but held it as if it were a branding iron. He looked up at Song Zhiyi, trying to find even the slightest hesitation, reluctance, or other emotion on her face. But there was nothing. Her expression was calm and undisturbed, her eyes clear and open, even carrying a kind of...relief?

"What is it?" He heard his own voice, dry and unlike his own.

Song Zhiyi met his gaze without flinching, her tone as calm as if discussing tomorrow's weather: "You'll know once you open it and see."

Huo Yanli's fingers tightened, the edge of the paper bag making a slight rustling sound. He lowered his eyes, stiffly opened the seal of the document bag, and pulled out several printed A4 sheets of paper.

The bold title on the top page, like a poisoned needle, pierced his eyes—

Divorce Agreement

Below is a smaller line of text: (Based on the expiration of the five-year marriage agreement, both parties voluntarily dissolve their marriage relationship.)

Time, place, basic information of both parties… the terms were clear and formatted correctly. His gaze swept quickly and chaotically over the cold clauses. Regarding the division of property, there was only a simple sentence: “Both parties confirm that there is no joint property or joint debt during the marriage. The wife voluntarily waives all economic claims and does not request any form of compensation or alimony.”

Clean and tidy. She wanted nothing. Just like when she married into the family, she took nothing with her except the empty title of "Mrs. Huo".

Huo Yanli's fingers, gripping the paper tightly, turned white at the knuckles, and the edges of the paper were crumpled. He felt dizzy, his stomach convulsed violently, and a metallic, metallic taste rose in his throat.

He abruptly raised his head to look at Song Zhiyi, his eyes instantly filled with bloodshot veins, his voice hoarse and broken:

"I said... I take back my five-year agreement!"

These words were almost squeezed out from between his teeth, carrying the pain of suppressed emotions and the last desperate scream.

Song Zhiyi watched him quietly, observing the intense turmoil and pain in his eyes. A fleeting, almost imperceptible, complex expression crossed her face, but it quickly returned to calm. She gently shook her head, her voice soft yet like the sharpest knife, precisely severing the last straw he was clinging to.

But I did not agree.

She paused, her gaze drifting to the blurry outlines of buildings in the distance, then returning to his face, her eyes holding a heartbreaking clarity and resolve:

"Huo Yanli, we are not on the same path."

We're not on the same wavelength.

Five words sealed the fate of their relationship.

She finally said those words clearly. It wasn't out of spite or complaint, but simply stating a fact she had long believed and verified over five years.

“Your world is here,” her voice was exceptionally clear in the night breeze, “in the Huo Group’s buildings, in the social circles of Beijing, in the business rules and lifestyle you are familiar with. There you will find your responsibilities, the games you are good at and enjoy, and… a stable life that suits you.”

She looked at him, her eyes calm, even carrying a hint of understanding tenderness, but this tenderness was more hurtful than any indifference:

"But my path lies further afield. At the negotiating table, in conflict zones where mediation is needed, that path is not smooth, nor stable, and... I don't even know where it ends. I cannot, nor do I want, to let anyone change their original trajectory because of me, or... suffer unnecessary worries and waiting because of me."

She took a small half-step forward, getting closer to him, so she could clearly see the broken light in his eyes and his slightly trembling lips. Her voice was softer, yet every word was clear and distinct:

"Thank you for your respect over these past five years, and thank you for the Huo family's understanding. I have fulfilled my promises to my maternal grandfather and paternal grandfather, and I have also gone through a very meaningful period for me. Now, the time has come. It is better for both of us to return to our original positions."

She pointed to the crumpled agreement in his hand: "Sign it. I don't want anything. The formalities... can be handled through the embassy when I get there, or by hiring a lawyer. It won't be too much trouble for you."

She spoke so comprehensively and rationally, arranging the end of a marriage as if it were a routine job handover.

Huo Yanli stood there, like a sculpture whose soul had suddenly been ripped out. All his efforts, all his changes, all his sleepless nights and the surging emotions he had never spoken, seemed so ridiculous, so... insignificant in the face of her extremely lucid confession.

It's not that she didn't love; it's that she... never included love in her life's equation. Her heart was filled with the world and the nation; romantic love was an insignificant detail, a burden that should be pruned away when the time came.

He, Huo Yanli, once an arrogant young master from the Beijing elite circle who saw this marriage as a constraint, finally saw his own heart clearly and wanted to clumsily get closer, only to discover in despair that what he thought was "getting closer" was probably just an insignificant scene beside the tracks for her.

It doesn't even qualify as scenery.

"Okay..." After a long silence, Huo Yanli heard himself squeeze out a single syllable, terribly hoarse. He looked down at the divorce agreement in his hand, the paper trembling between his fingers.

“Okay.” He repeated it again, as if finally accepting some kind of judgment. He turned around abruptly, opened the car door, and the movement was so large that he almost fell over. He got into the driver's seat, slammed the door shut, and threw the agreement haphazardly onto the passenger seat.

The engine roared to life, and the car shot off like an arrow, its tires screeching as they rubbed against the pavement before disappearing quickly into the darkness at the end of the street.

Song Zhiyi stood there, looking in the direction where the taillights disappeared, without moving for a long time.

She slowly lowered her head, looking at her empty hands, her fingertips curling up almost imperceptibly.

Then, she turned around and walked step by step back to the dark dormitory building. The motion-sensor lights turned on and off floor by floor in sync with her footsteps.

Everything seems to be going back to square one.