Chapter Twenty-Two: I will use my own name, no longer bearing your surname.
Lin Tang is back.
The slight noise from the entryway was all the more distinct in the deathly silent living room, like a pebble thrown into a deep pool.
Qiao Yuan's fingers, which were caressing the photo frame, suddenly stopped, and he pulled them back as if he had been electrocuted. His body, which was facing away from the porch, tensed up instantly.
He turned around, his movements carrying a subtle stiffness, as if trying to pull himself out of the dark mire of memories.
"Where did you go?" Qiao Yuan's voice rang out, deep and hoarse. He took a step forward, his tall figure approaching in the dim light. The light from the wall lamp cast a long, oppressive shadow behind him, almost completely enveloping Lin Tang.
“You left the banquet at the International Hotel after only fifteen minutes. Now,” he raised his wrist, the cold metal dial reflecting a piercing glint in the light, “it’s almost eleven o’clock.”
Lin Tang stood in the shadows of the entryway, her black velvet dress seemingly blending into the night, with only the exposed skin on her neck gleaming with a porcelain-like, cold white luster in the dim light.
She silently removed her thin gloves, her movements still composed, carrying a sense of detachment.
...
Chen Kan had just chased after her. She walked forward in silence, and he followed behind her. The two walked all the way to the Bund.
The night breeze, carrying the dampness of the river and the coolness of early autumn, brushed against my cheeks, dispelling the suffocating scent of perfumes and cigars from the banquet hall.
Lin Tang stopped and gazed at the dark outline of Pudong on the opposite bank and the lights of the boats moving slowly on the river, without turning back.
"Miss Lin."
Chen Kan's voice rang out from behind, without the confrontational tone of the Royal Garden, without the usual mockery, but instead carrying a rare, almost cautious solemnity.
Lin Tang turned her head slightly to the side.
Chen Kan stepped forward and stood beside her by the railing, his gaze also fixed on the deep river. His tone was low and direct: "Miss Lin is also a person educated in the new era. Are you now willing to watch Mr. Qiao take a mistress?"
Lin Tang was taken aback, then chuckled and shook her head. "So?"
Chen Kan asked, "Have you never thought about leaving him?"
Lin Tang said calmly, "Is this the question you chased after me to ask me?"
Chen Kan put his hands in his pockets and smiled. "What did Miss Lin think I was going to ask?" He seemed relaxed, but his hands in his pockets were already clenched into fists.
“I thought you were going to continue mocking me,” Lin Tang’s voice was as light as drifting rain, with a hint of self-mocking weariness, “mocking me for choosing the wrong path back then, and now I’m in such a sorry state.”
Lin Tang trembled slightly, her fingertips unconsciously gripping the cold railing. The accumulated chill in her chest seemed to be pried open by those words.
"That piece of land is in a good location, convenient by both water and land, but it is close to the docks, where gang forces are deeply entrenched, and the Japanese are eyeing it covetously. Even with the connections of the Crescent Moon Gang, it will be difficult for you to start a business smoothly on your own."
Lin Tang's fingertips lightly traced the cold railing, without saying a word.
Chen Kan suddenly turned his head, his sharp gaze locking onto her profile, the night wind ruffling the hair on his forehead: "Lin Tang, what if I said I wanted to work with you?"
Lin Tang finally turned around completely and looked him straight in the eye, a hint of genuine surprise finally flashing beneath the icy surface of her eyes.
"Cooperation?" Her voice was colder than the river wind. "What kind of cooperation does Mr. Chen want? Is he eyeing my land, or does he want a piece of the pie?"
"Share the spoils? Ha, Lin Tang, you underestimate me." He paused, his gaze intense. "I've thought about the path of saving the country through industry for a long time. Not just empty talk, but real money invested to do something concrete. You have land, I have connections, how about we cooperate?"
The night wind carried Chen Kan's words into my ears, with a strange weight to them.
She turned her head to look at the blurry lights on the opposite bank. The dampness of the Huangpu River, carrying a cool breeze, rushed towards her, mingling with the river's unique salty tang and the distant sounds of ship horns, creating a strange resonance in the quiet night. Chen Kan's words were like a pebble thrown into a still lake, rippling outwards and dispelling the humiliation and coldness of the banquet just now.
At this moment, the barriers vanished, leaving only the mournful sound of the river wind, as if only the two of them remained in the world, silently confronting this turbulent and chaotic world.
"Industry saves the nation..." Lin Tang softly repeated these four words, her gaze once again fixed on the vast river. She did not answer immediately, but remained silent for a long time.
In Chen Kan's view, this silence was a tacit understanding, a consensus that needed no words.
After an unknown amount of time, the clock on the distant customs building struck a few times, its deep toll echoing across the empty river.
"It's getting late," Lin Tang broke the silence. "I should go back."
"Yes, you're going back..." Chen Kan paused, then changed the subject, his tone carrying a barely perceptible hint of inquiry, or even a kind of reminder, "But, Miss Lin, if I may be frank, have you really planned to spend all this effort trapped in the Qiao family for the rest of your life, clinging to that empty title, becoming... an old-fashioned first wife? Watching your husband take in one new woman after another?"
Lin Tang's body stiffened almost imperceptibly, as if she suddenly realized that Chen Kan had been calling her "Miss Lin" instead of "Mrs. Qiao" all day. She smoothed her wind-blown hair, but her voice remained calm and even, "I will consider Mr. Chen's kindness. Goodbye."
She turned around, her black velvet figure disappearing back into the night.
Chen Kan stood there, lit a cigarette, and the scarlet flame flickered in the darkness, reflecting his thoughtful face.
...
At this moment, Lin Tang raised her eyes, her gaze passing over Qiao Yuan's tense shoulders, and landing on the group photo that was faintly reflected in the dim light at the corner of the second-floor staircase.
The gentle and charming self in the photo is like a distant and ironic dream.
She's been trapped in this Western-style building for five years—too long, so long that she's become Mrs. Qiao and has almost forgotten her own name.
Lin Tang took a deep breath, her breath icy yet strangely steady. Meeting Qiao Yuan's piercing gaze, she spoke each word clearly, her voice not loud, but piercing the deathly silence of the living room: "Qiao Yuan, let's get a divorce!"
The air suddenly froze.
Qiao Yuan's fury froze instantly. "What...did you say?"
“I said, divorce.” She walked past him and headed straight for the stairs, the hem of her black velvet skirt brushing against the cold floor tiles, making a soft sound.
Qiao Yuan stood there, then suddenly lost his voice.
He had no idea he would feel so much pain until he actually heard those words.
No! His moon!
He plucked it, and even if it cost him all his good fortune, he would draw a circle around himself and imprison her.
He turned around, took a step forward, and suddenly grabbed Lin Tang's slender wrist with his large, iron-like hand.
"Let go!" Lin Tang cried out in pain, her body staggering slightly from the sudden pull. She looked up sharply, her gaze like a cold star, piercing straight into Qiao Yuan's eyes. There was no fear in her eyes, only a frozen resolve.
In that instant, even someone as hard-hearted as Qiao Yuan was forced to lower his hand by that gaze.
"Qiao Yuan, stop acting." Her gaze was like a knife, piercing straight into the darkness he tried so hard to hide deep in his eyes. "You killed Huang Jinhu, you killed Liang Kuan, and you kept saying it was to avenge me... Was it really revenge?"
Qiao Yuan was taken aback, never expecting that his accusation against him would be like this.
"Qiao Yuan, you're something else. You have your ambitions, and you killed Huang Jinhu and Liang Kuan for them, yet you still want me to bear the reputation of being a femme fatale. You're all-powerful in Jiangcheng, and you think you can do anything just because you've taken a fancy to a weak woman like me. You can kill me, but even so, I will leave this place! Even if I die, I want to leave behind the name Lin Jintang, and have nothing to do with the Qiao family anymore!"
Qiao Yuan's lips trembled. He smiled, but his eyes reddened. "Is this how you see me?"
"Otherwise, you'd have to tell me that you didn't kill Bai Mu, would you?"
Qiao Yuan's expression changed, and he looked away.
Lin Tang saw the sudden change in his face clearly, and the last glimmer of hope in her heart, which she herself had not even noticed, was completely extinguished.
She closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, all that remained in them was boundless coldness and weariness. "The dead are gone. Qiao Yuan, I will no longer ask about Bai Mu's death. I don't want to pursue the past anymore. Qiao Yuan, you have been kind to me, but you also have an irreconcilable hatred for me. From today onwards, our debts are settled!"
“Jintang…” His eyes showed a hint of despair. He wanted to reach out and touch her cheek one last time, but he stopped when he met her cold gaze.
Lin Tang glanced at her, then turned and walked up the stairs.
The hem of her black velvet skirt swept across the stair railing, leaving a faint scent of perfume.
Qiao Yuan watched her retreating figure until it disappeared around the corner. He picked up a beaded flower she had dropped, clutching it in his hand until his knuckles turned pale.
The wall lamp in the living room was still on, casting his lonely shadow.
Outside the window, the sound of ship horns from the Huangpu River drifted in, like someone crying.
Qiao Yuan sat on the sofa, picked up the whiskey on the table, took a big gulp, and then another.
Cheng Qing remained pressed against the bedroom door, holding her breath, her heart pounding so hard it felt like it would burst out of her chest. From the moment Lin Tang uttered the word "divorce," she was overwhelmed by a mixture of shock and elation.
She could hardly believe her ears! The woman who stood in her way like a mountain, Qiao Yuan's nominal wife, had actually taken the initiative to file for divorce!
This was a golden opportunity! She gripped the doorknob tightly, her knuckles turning white from the force, and she couldn't help but want to smile.
Qiao Yuan shuddered violently, as if he had been awakened from a long, cold nightmare.
The gentle, smiling Lin Tang in the photo is now shattered into pieces by broken glass.
All that remained in the living room was the eerie reflection of shards of glass and a suffocating, despairing silence.
The declaration of divorce, like a final verdict, fell heavily, leaving no room for reconciliation.
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