Chapter 34: Chen Yu

The next day.

Wang Yan returned from jogging; Gu Jia had already prepared breakfast.

They woke up Xu Ziyang, and the three of them had breakfast together.

After dropping the child off at school, Wang Yan told Gu Jia to gather all the documents, then drove to the Civil Affairs Bureau.

Gu Jia was deeply surprised by Wang Yan’s decisiveness; she never expected he’d take her to register for divorce the very next day.

As a widow with a child, she wanted to remarry—though with her looks and charm, finding an ordinary man would be easy, but she still had to make the effort. Yet finding a top-tier elite? It was no different from dreaming.

Honestly, she’d even considered just staying with Wang Yan; she believed he wouldn’t treat her or the child poorly. As for cheating or fooling around? After one betrayal, she’d learned something. She’d finally seen clearly.

Even Xu Huanshan had cheated—how much less could Wang Yan, who was leagues above Xu Huanshan, be restrained by her?

Though she knew the marriage certificate meant little to Wang Yan, the legal confirmation still made her ecstatic.

Wang Yan registered with her partly because not marrying Liu Sihui had been a regret, and partly because he wanted to experience it. Even without registration, living with Gu Jia was the same—he wouldn’t be hindered—but ceremony still mattered, at least to make it look real.

The Civil Affairs Bureau was still packed, but luckily they arrived early and finished before lunch break.

Holding the red booklet in his hand, Wang Yan felt absolutely nothing special.

He speculated it was probably because he was in a film world and subjectively didn’t identify with it—so he felt no sense of responsibility? Or perhaps here, he faced no moral constraints and could do whatever he wanted? Or maybe because he had no financial worries or pressure?

Either way, he felt utterly unmoved. It was just what it was.

“Let’s go get something to eat, then head to my company.”

“Okay.”

After receiving the marriage certificate, Gu Jia was overjoyed. As for a wedding? She didn’t even mention it—why bother with a bicycle?

They ate casually, then in the afternoon Wang Yan took Gu Jia to his company.

He clapped his hands to get his staff’s attention and quiet them down, then introduced Gu Jia to them, asking them to remember her face.

After the introduction, ignoring the staff’s murmurs, the two went to his office and had her sit on the sofa.

Wang Yan pulled several contracts from his desk behind him and handed them to Gu Jia: “Take a look. If there’s no problem, sign.”

Gu Jia flipped through the contracts—these were what Wang Yan had promised her: ownership of Junyue Mansion and Tianyue Mansion, plus other cash and stock assets. Just the two properties were worth over 150 million, totaling roughly 200 million.

She was stunned by Wang Yan’s generosity.

“This is too much. I can’t accept it.”

“Take it. I promised you. Besides, are you going to leave me?”

Seeing her shake her head, Wang Yan continued: “Then that’s settled. Isn’t this more useful than a marriage certificate?”

“Besides, both properties are mortgaged—so they’re not nearly as valuable as you think. But don’t worry, I’ll pay off the loans as soon as possible.”

“This is my guarantee to you. Take it, and sign.”

Gu Jia had plenty of flaws, but Wang Yan didn’t really care. In the end, it was all about money—he had more than enough. To Wang Yan, money was just a number; no matter how much, he didn’t care. Smashing her with it was the right move.

She mastered all the essential domestic skills for a woman, was decent enough in character, had some finesse, was competent at her tasks, and didn’t cause trouble like Wang Manni or Zhong Xiaoqin. He was quite satisfied with her.

As long as she had a bit of sincerity, the minor flaws didn’t matter. After all, he’d encountered countless women; deeply engaging with women of different backgrounds and personalities was itself a kind of cultivation.

Seeing his firm, unyielding tone, Gu Jia didn’t hesitate—she picked up the pen and began signing.

Wang Yan was different from Xu Huanshan—he was too dominant. On Wang Yan, Gu Jia truly felt protected.

After she finished signing and put the contracts away, Wang Yan said: “Alright, that’s settled.”

“I’ve got some things to handle here. I won’t bother you. Here are the car keys—drive home.”

“The house still needs plenty of daily essentials. If you’re bored, go out and pick some things.”

“If you’re still bored, wait until Ziyang’s holiday—we’ll go together.”

Gu Jia nodded, said “okay,” kissed Wang Yan, and left.

Outside, she got into Wang Yan’s A8, called Wang Manni and Zhong Xiaoqin, and invited them to meet for coffee and a chat.

After years of struggle, she’d received more from Wang Yan’s casual gesture—and she’d always had complicated feelings for him. Her excitement needed someone to share it with.

She wasn’t showing off—just pure sharing. Otherwise, holding it in was unbearable; it might make her sick.

After so many years as a housewife, her old friends and colleagues were nearly all gone—that’s why she reached out to these two.

Even though Wang Yan and Wang Manni had clashed at her birthday party, in Gu Jia’s view, that was a separate matter.

People carry weight in each other’s hearts; Zhong Xiaoqin weighed more in Gu Jia’s.

She and Zhong Xiaoqin had known each other for years and gone through many things together—they had real feelings. Knowing Zhong Xiaoqin, she’d just say a couple of words upon hearing Gu Jia and Wang Yan were together. Wang Yan and Zhong Xiaoqin had no connection—she’d just mention it less. There’d be some effect, but not much.

Wang Manni? She didn’t care. From their previous conflict, Gu Jia knew Wang Manni had definitely had some kind of affair with Wang Yan. Besides, they never had deep feelings—just plastic sisters. If they got along, fine; if not, goodbye. But knowing Wang Manni, she’d very likely pretend nothing had happened.

Wang Manni and Zhong Xiaoqin could easily skip work—one claimed to be meeting a client, the other to be visiting someone—plenty of excuses.

The three met at a coffee shop near Junyue Mansion, one they often visited.

Each ordered a drink. After the server left, Gu Jia spoke: “I’m divorced.”

“What?” *x2, both women were stunned by her sudden announcement.

Just a few days ago, on her thirtieth birthday, they were still so affectionate—how could she be divorced already?

“What happened?” Zhong Xiaoqin blurted out.

Wang Manni chimed in: “Yeah, Gu Jia, there wasn’t a single sign before! This is so sudden.”

Gu Jia then recounted the whole story to them.

“How could Xu Huanshan be like this? What a piece of trash,” Zhong Xiaoqin exclaimed indignantly. She’d known Xu Huanshan since Gu Jia started dating him—she never imagined he was this kind of person.

Wang Manni didn’t know Xu Huanshan well, but seeing how loving they’d been just days ago, then his cheating, she thought it was shameful too—she followed Zhong Xiaoqin in condemning him.

So the three began a full-blown denunciation of Xu Huanshan: Gu Jia recounted her emotional journey from start to finish, while the other two took turns hurling insults.

Women were vicious when they cursed—spittle flew everywhere. Wang Manni and Zhong Xiaoqin nearly sent Xu Huanshan back into his mother’s womb, before finally taking a big gulp of water to end it.

Then they turned to asset division; Gu Jia told them how it had been split.

“Gu Jia, what about Ziyang? What will happen to him?” Zhong Xiaoqin asked.

“The child is with me.”

Thinking of Gu Jia raising the child alone, Zhong Xiaoqin nearly cried: “How will you manage, Gu Jia?”

Wang Manni looked at Gu Jia with pity—they all knew how hard it was to raise a child after divorce.

Seeing their concerned eyes, Gu Jia smiled: “Don’t worry. My life will only get better.”

The two were baffled—how could a widow with a child live better? Was divorce too much of a shock? Had she gone mad?

Gu Jia felt uncomfortable under their “you’re insane” stares and sighed: “Stop looking at me like that. I’m perfectly sane. Do you remember Wang Yan?”

Wang Manni, of course, remembered him vividly—she stared at Gu Jia in shock.

Zhong Xiaoqin, hearing Wang Yan’s name, recalled the unpleasantness from a few days ago.

She frowned: “That guy from your birthday party? What about him?”

Without speaking, Gu Jia pulled out the marriage certificate she’d just obtained that morning and placed it on the table before them.

Seeing the smiling red photo of Gu Jia and Wang Yan on the certificate, their reactions differed.

How could they have imagined Gu Jia would divorce yesterday and marry today—especially to Wang Yan?

Wang Manni’s body stiffened visibly. She was truly regretful—so rich, and Wang Yan didn’t even mind a woman with a child. What did she lack? She’d only thought Wang Yan looked ordinary, and though rich, he didn’t meet her ideal standard. She deeply regretted judging him by his appearance and sleeping with him so casually.

Gu Jia noticed Wang Manni’s reaction but said nothing. At the birthday party, Wang Yan had clearly looked down on Wang Manni—why should she make unnecessary trouble? Besides, even if she did, Wang Yan could still do whatever he wanted—she couldn’t stop him.

Zhong Xiaoqin’s reaction was simpler: “How did you end up registering with him?”

She spoke without thinking—only after saying it did she realize how inappropriate it was. Gu Jia could marry whoever she wanted; it was her life, not Zhong Xiaoqin’s.

She quickly waved her hands, apologetic: “I’m sorry, Gu Jia, that’s not what I meant, I—”

Gu Jia knew she meant no harm and cut her off: “No need to explain. I know what you meant. But he’s been very good to me and Ziyang, and Ziyang especially likes him.”

She pulled another document from her bag—the signed gift agreement—and placed it on the table: “Your other worries are unnecessary. Look at this.”

The two flipped through the contract again.

After reading it, they fell silent.

Wang Manni stared at Gu Jia with envy, jealousy, and hatred—she wanted to slap herself hard, then turn right, walk straight, and dive headfirst into the Huangpu River.

Zhong Xiaoqin stopped babbling—what could be more compelling than 200 million? Why say anything else?

Seeing their reactions, Gu Jia was satisfied. She’d held it in for so long—now she finally felt light.

She didn’t interrupt them, sipping her coffee calmly.

Hmm, today’s coffee was especially sweet—perfect.

After Gu Jia left, Wang Yan handled some company matters and finalized several transactions.

Finished, he sat back and thought about what to do next.

Xu Huanshan and Gu Jia were divorced, but he and Lin Youyou weren’t married—they weren’t truly together yet.

That was easy to solve. Once Xu Huanshan found out Gu Jia had registered with Wang Yan, he’d probably marry Lin Youyou immediately. Or Lin Youyou could charm him into agreeing to marry her.

It would be settled soon enough.

What he needed to consider was how to deal with those four bastards who’d called him uncultured.

He, Wang, was so wronged—they didn’t even want to bother him, yet they came straight to step on him.

He wasn’t pretending—he had every right to be cold. Who the hell were they? He wasn’t their father—why should he indulge their bad habits?

When exposed, they got angry and accused him of being uncultured—all four of them, collectively certifying it.

Then they couldn’t blame him, Wang. If he didn’t make them suffer a little, he’d reverse his surname.

Chen Yu was a frontline reporter who loved photography. He thought for a moment and had an idea.

He called his two subordinates, told them to find Chen Yu’s contact information, and gave them further instructions.

Then he summoned his men and ordered them to acquire a new media company with complete paperwork and a solid structure. Building one from scratch took too long—it was more efficient to buy one.

Soon after, Wang Yan’s phone buzzed with a message: Chen Yu’s contact details had been sent.

He just called him directly.

Chen Yu has been having bad luck lately—his job is frustrating, his marriage is falling apart, and he fails at everything he tries.

The vibration of his phone pulled his attention away from his focused work; seeing it was an unknown number, he ignored it and hung up. But barely had he hung up when another call came in immediately—same number again.

Lately he’s been restless and irritable: “Hello, who is this?”

Wang Yan didn’t mind—he’d been cursed at like a bastard for calling people to sell houses, so this wasn’t even worth noting: “Hello, are you Chen Yu?”

“It’s me. Who are you? What do you want? If you’ve got nothing, I’m hanging up.”

The rapid-fire questions showed just how bad his mood was. Wang Yan said: “I work in finance. Lately I’ve been looking into self-media. I saw that news story you posted about the mother and her two children. I’m very interested in you and would like to talk.”

“I was wondering if you have some time.”

Chen Yu thought for a moment—what harm could a chat do? And it might just be an opportunity.

“Sure, let’s talk. Seven tonight, Eternal Coffee House.”

“Alright, see you then.” Wang Yan hung up.

Wang Yan’s plan was simple: cut off Zhong Xiaoqin’s escape route first. If Zhong XiaoYang and his family were clean, law-abiding citizens, fine. If not, he’d bring them down—every last one of them, including their backing. Then leave Zhong Xiaoqin to fend for herself and see how tough her fate really is.

Wang Yan had never met Chen Yu, but he’d picked up some sense of him from watching TV dramas.

It wasn’t that Chen Yu didn’t want to change—he was weighed down too heavily. His elderly mother, his immature younger brother, his unpolished wife, his mortgage, his car loan—these people and burdens crushed him flat.

Since childhood, his father had abandoned his wife and children; the three of them had survived together, and you can imagine how hard that was. But he wasn’t seeking sympathy—there were countless people worse off, and no one had it the worst, only worse.

He just wanted stability—study hard, work hard, live hard. He only wanted stability. He dared not slam his fist on the desk and curse his boss, dared not risk losing his job, dared not try new things, dared not chase his dreams. That was understandable.

Logically speaking, Chen Yu, in his thirties, divorced, passive, unmotivated, insecure, with no prospects and no money, would find dating incredibly difficult.

What Wang Yan intended to do was give him the courage to change all this, lift him up, awaken his latent desires, and show him the swirling, dazzling world. Once he saw it, he’d be blinded by the glitter. Zhong Xiaoqin? Get the hell out of here.

He sat at the office all afternoon, handling some matters. When he checked the time, it was nearly there—he sent Gu Jia a message telling her he’d be home later. After all, it was their first day getting married; it was awkward enough already.

Wang Yan stepped outside, hailed a taxi, and headed to the meeting place.

When he arrived, Chen Yu, being closer, had already been waiting for a while.

Sitting across from Chen Yu, Wang Yan extended his hand: “Hello, I’m Wang Yan. I called you.”

“Hello,” Chen Yu shook his hand. “What would you like to drink?”

“No need. Skip the formalities. Let’s get to the point.”

Chen Yu nodded, ready to listen.

“I looked into your situation. You’re a decent person. Responsibility and conscience matter—this is why I reached out to you.”

“But your interpersonal skills are poor. You’ve been marginalized a lot, haven’t you?”

Chen Yu said nothing. It was true.

“I don’t play games. Just do your job well. Don’t waste time on useless stuff.”

Chen Yu gave no reply to this blunt assessment.

“And about that news story—I personally think we should stick to facts, not chase hype.”

“Pay more attention to the genuine human kindness that goes unnoticed. In truth, there are always countless nameless heroes quietly giving selflessly—we should discover them, promote them, praise them.”

“At the same time, misfortune happens all around us—like the mother and her two children I mentioned on the phone. We should also take responsibility, rally more caring people to help them.”

“Spreading truth, goodness, and beauty—that’s what I want to do.”

“What do you think, Chen Yu?”

He’d spoken exactly as Chen Yu would think—had to convince him.

Chen Yu was deeply moved—these words struck right at his heart. He had ideas, but his low status meant no one listened; his words were basically worthless.

“That’s exactly what I think…” The floodgates opened. He began pouring out examples from his daily work, denouncing his colleagues’ practices.