Chapter 1: No Divorce Allowed
When Chu Yize learned that his wife, Jiang Qiyan, was injured on set, he immediately rushed to Hengdian.

Just half a month ago, Jiang Qiyan had raised a storm by insisting on accepting a role in the drama “The Crest of the Blue Waves”, despite his disapproval. Because of this minor disagreement, she even brought up divorce.

Now, watching the video on his phone of her accidentally falling off a horse, Chu Yize regretted it deeply.

He shouldn’t have backed down just because she threw a childish tantrum and threatened divorce. He had given in to her endlessly. If only he had been more firm, let her hit him, scold him, bite or kick him as she pleased—just lock her up at home and protect her. Then maybe this accident wouldn’t have happened.

While he was lost in thought, the black Rolls-Royce had already pulled up to the hotel where Jiang Qiyan was staying.

A sharp-eyed valet quickly opened the door. Chu Yize gave him a brief glance and thanked him softly before striding into the lobby and heading straight to Room 1106.

When the knock on the door came, Jiang Qiyan was still eating dessert with her assistant.

On the table was her favorite—cherry blossom mousse. Her hand paused as she looked up at her assistant.

“Is it the director?” she asked. Assistant Xiaoyue, who had just set down a slice of red velvet cake, mentioned a new Japanese restaurant in town they should try. While smoothing out the creases on her dress, she got up to answer the door.

But when the door opened, Xiaoyue immediately fell silent. She quietly stepped aside, letting Chu Yize in.

Jiang Qiyan, puzzled by Xiaoyue’s sudden quietness, tilted her head and called out, “Who is it?”

As soon as she spoke, a familiar face entered her line of sight.

Her heart skipped a beat. She hadn’t seen her husband for half a month, and now she thought—he looked even more handsome. Aging had only added to his charm; even the two lines by his eyes seemed attractive.

Though already 47, Chu Yize was so well-maintained that he looked not a day over 30. If he stood on the street, young girls would probably think he was a successful older “brother” in his early thirties and would flock to him.

What they didn’t know was—he already had a grown son.

As his gaze softened, he quickly stepped up to her and reached for her right wrist with a touch of urgency in his voice.

“Let me see—where did you fall?”

Though Jiang Qiyan had kept calm when injured on set and even reassured the younger actor she was only mildly bruised—

Now, in front of her husband, she immediately turned into a drama queen, leaning lazily on the chair with teary eyes.

“It hurts like hell.”

She was spoiled and used to being coaxed—and she was clearly waiting for it.

Sure enough, Chu Yize knelt beside her, gently rolling up her sleeve to examine her arm.

Her smooth, fair skin was mottled with bruises—blue and purple. The contrast made them look particularly painful. Her elbow was especially bad, the skin scraped red and raw.

Thankfully, the crew had already taken her to the hospital. The doctor confirmed it was only superficial; the bones were fine, and the wounds had been disinfected and treated.

Still, looking at her bruises, Chu Yize couldn’t help but furrow his brows.

She’d made a huge fuss, threatened divorce over this drama—and now, just 15 days into filming, she’d ended up like this.

Her injuries looked even more brutal than the hickeys he usually left on her.

His slender fingers brushed lightly over one bruise. He hadn’t even pressed, and Jiang Qiyan winced.

“Ow! That hurts!”

Their eyes met.

He smiled faintly, pulled down her sleeve, and gently pinched her cheek.

“Did it hurt the bone?”

Even though he had already read the medical report, he still needed to ask her himself.

Jiang Qiyan wrinkled her nose, lazily brushing his arm with her fingers.

“Of course not. It was just a fall. Why are you being so dramatic?”

Today, she was supposed to shoot a horse-riding scene. But she slipped getting on the horse and fell off. The startled horse nearly trampled her.

It was a terrifying moment.

The staff quickly helped her up and took her to the hospital. Somehow, her estranged husband had also been informed.

She had expected a quick scan and to be done—but this control freak had her examined head to toe. It delayed her so much that it was nightfall before she could return and eat her favorite mousse.

Chu Yize simply smiled, ignoring her grumbling. Her moods were always unpredictable—clingy and needy one moment, irritable and dismissive the next.

But to him, this was just their way of flirting—a couple’s playful banter.

They had been together since she was 18, and he knew exactly what kind of spoiled, willful princess she was. She had a fiery temper, especially around him. If she was in a good mood, she might listen to a few words of advice. In a bad mood? She’d curse and snark without restraint.

Chu Yize prided himself on his need for control. When she acted out, he simply took the time to discipline her—tame her.

He had his ways—methods that made her cry and beg for forgiveness.
Though she always acted like she repented, deep down she never truly yielded—and she’d test his limits again the next time.

For 21 years, they had weathered it all. He had the patience to indulge her, and she could never escape his grasp. That was their rhythm.

Suddenly, Jiang Qiyan remembered—they were still in the middle of a cold war.

This dog of a man! When he was anxious, he’d call her a dozen times a day. But now that she was fine and sitting here, he was putting on this aloof, silent act?

She shot him a glare and returned to her dessert, acting nonchalant.

The room went silent. Xiaoyue stood by awkwardly, glancing between them.

Though she’d been Jiang Qiyan’s assistant for three years, she was still intimidated by Chu Yize.

Despite his polished exterior, Xiaoyue always felt he was the very definition of an ultra-controlling, domineering husband. If anything ever went against his will—the consequences would be terrifying.

She would never forget the time the couple argued, and Chu Yize dragged Jiang Qiyan into the car. No matter how she kicked, screamed, or cursed, he stayed calm—just saying,

“Wait till we get home, then I’ll deal with you properly.”

She didn’t know what happened afterward—but Jiang Qiyan called off work for a whole week.

Even her voice trembled on the phone, and Xiaoyue could faintly hear her crying before the call ended.

Now, Xiaoyue still couldn’t shake the unease. She feared the man and wondered if Jiang Qiyan was truly happy in this marriage.

The air was still.

Chu Yize finally turned to Xiaoyue, casually adjusting his cufflinks. He asked about filming details—who Jiang Qiyan acted with today, which director was shooting, A team or B team.

Though nervous, Xiaoyue gave honest and detailed answers.

Jiang Qiyan silently listened while eating her dessert. At first, his questions were normal. But gradually, his tone began to feel… like an interrogation.

She cut in:

“I told you, it was an accident! What, do you think someone tried to hurt me? Chu Yize, you’ve been reading too many dramatic novels.”

He glanced at her but didn’t scold her for her blunt words. He knew how sharp-tongued she could be.

“Also—you better not go blaming the director or the crew!” she warned, stabbing her fork into her dessert. Her peach blossom eyes glared at him—even when angry, she looked stunning.

After so many years together, she knew his nature better than anyone.

In public, he was all grace and manners. In private, he was ruthless and cunning.

Why else would he have sabotaged his own younger brother back then?

“If you dare cause trouble on set—I swear, I’ll divorce you!”

Hearing that word, Chu Yize’s eyes darkened. Indulgence and danger flickered in his gaze.

But he didn’t get angry. Instead, he smiled softly and turned to Xiaoyue, thanking her and suggesting she go rest.

Once she left, the real Chu Yize came out.

He grabbed Jiang Qiyan’s chin, his coarse fingertip smearing the white cream from her lips onto his finger.

She frowned and pushed his chest.

“If there’s nothing else, you can leave too.”

But he pinned both her hands against his chest and brushed a kiss against her lips.

“Come on, baby. Don’t be difficult. Come home with me, hmm?”

Jiang Qiyan frowned harder, eyes flashing with defiance.

But to him, she only looked more adorable.

Though 39 now, her face still had the youthful glow of a college girl. Years of being his beloved wife had only added a sensual charm to her.

Especially during intimate moments—her mature femininity became pure seduction.

He’d heard people talk about the “seven-year itch” or marriage crises. He never believed in them. Because to him—she remained his greatest temptation.

And he had full confidence—he could satisfy her. Even more than enough.

She turned away in protest, but he scooped her into his arms without a word.

Startled, she instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck.

One slipper fell to the floor with a soft thud, exposing her perfectly polished toes.

He laid her down on the bed. She still managed to cheekily grope his abs through his shirt.

He looked down at her and laughed. His little wife was such a pervert. Always talking divorce—but totally obsessed with his body and face.

Her anger flared. What the hell was he laughing at? Shouldn’t he be kissing her right now?

Suddenly, Jiang Qiyan jolted upright, suspicion in her eyes.

He was never this quiet. Something was off.

She tried to scramble away—but he pulled her back.

Holding her in his arms, he massaged her shoulders, noticing how much weight she had lost. Probably from working too hard on set.

She was born for luxury—why insist on suffering like this?

“Ah Yan, do you really have to be so stubborn with me?” he sighed, putting on the patience of a parent.

Jiang Qiyan snorted and ignored him.

His Adam’s apple bobbed. He fought back his temper, trying to reason with her:

“Let’s talk calmly.”

She snapped,

“Talk your head off!”

She was still resisting.
This dog of a man! She was almost 40, and he still treated her like she was 20. The same tactics, the same manipulations.

Sweet words after a slap?

Blind confidence! He really thought she’d fall for that again?

She scoffed—and he could even hear her defiance in her breath.

And then—
A loud slap echoed in the room.

He asked,

“So… are you convinced now?”