Chapter Two: Had Enough

When she finished speaking, she looked at him calmly, no longer trembling with fear as she once did. Instead, she felt a sense of relief. Eleven years—enough, more than enough.

Shen Yan’s hands at his sides suddenly clenched into fists.

The light in his eyes as he looked at Ye Yaoyao was unfathomable. At last, he flung open the car door and left, his tall, proud figure exuding a chilling indifference that made one shudder.

Ye Yaoyao was long used to being left behind.

She unbuckled her seatbelt and got out of the car as usual. Her forehead was beaded with sweat, and her steps faltered as she walked home.

In that moment, she admired herself—how had she managed to endure the journey back, and still keep Shen Yan from noticing anything was wrong?

Pressing a hand to her abdomen, she looked up at the man striding ahead and managed a weak, wry smile.

Shen Yan was angry.

Of course he was—how could he not be?

For years, she had humbled herself, always seeking his affection, answering every call, clinging without dignity.

Reaching the second floor, Ye Yaoyao’s forehead was slick with sweat. She forced herself through the pain to sit on the bed, trembling as she rummaged for her medicine.

Just as she was about to take it, the door burst open. Before she could see who it was, something slammed hard into her abdomen. Agony tore through her, her body convulsed, her fingers gripped the sheets, and she almost screamed.

Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed the object that had struck her—it was the anniversary gift she’d once coyly begged for.

She recalled what Shen Yan had said back then—

“Ye Yaoyao, your taste is as awful as ever.”

It turned out that something she’d once coveted, when it appeared at the wrong time, could be utterly repulsive.

The room was unlit; Shen Yan couldn’t see Ye Yaoyao’s expression and instinctively thought she was angry. He was angry too—angry she’d chosen today to bring up something that never should be mentioned.

He spoke in a low voice, “Ye Yaoyao, is it enough? Are you done yet?”

Ye Yaoyao laughed softly, picked up the necklace from the bed and tried to throw it at him, but in her weakness it merely landed at his feet.

A muffled thud echoed in the room, a strange feeling spreading through the space.

Her eyes reddened with pain. “Shen Yan, is this how you comfort Qin Miao?”

Unable to contain her anger, she hurled the gift at him.

Shen Yan was infuriated by her defiance. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you’re absolutely awful!”

Ye Yaoyao finally couldn’t hold back and cursed outright.

“Shen Yan, you and I both know who truly wants to end this marriage. I just happened to be the one to say it.”

Her fingers slackened, the strength drained from her body.

She lay on the bed, her face pale with illness, sweat dampening her hair and sticking it to her cheeks, making her look utterly disheveled.

Shen Yan’s brows furrowed, an uncomfortable heaviness filling his chest.

“If you think this hurts your pride, you can tell others you dumped me. I don’t care.”

After all, she’d endured enough sneers and ridicule over the years—what’s one more?

Ye Yaoyao’s tone was firm, though weak, the weight of her words undiminished. “But this marriage must end.”

Her words struck Shen Yan’s heart like blows.

He straightened his clothes, kicked the necklace under the bed, and said, “Impossible.”

Then he turned and left.

Ye Yaoyao gave a mocking laugh, but had no energy to argue. She took her medicine, and finally the pain in her lower abdomen eased somewhat.

Leaning against the bed, she took out her medical records and read them, noting the appearance and departure of her child.

She could still remember the happiness she’d felt at the time.

Perhaps everything was fate—the child's departure marked the end of her relationship with Shen Yan.

Growing up in an imperfect family, a child could never be truly happy.

Putting away the medical records, Ye Yaoyao slept for a day and a night. The first thing she did upon waking was find a lawyer to draft a divorce agreement.

When it came to property division, the lawyer listened to her arrangements, then awkwardly asked, “Miss Ye, are you really certain... this is the reason for your divorce?”

Ye Yaoyao’s expression was unchanging. “Yes.”

Her attitude was resolute, so the lawyer said no more. After leaving him, Ye Yaoyao hurried back to the Shen family’s old home to pack her few belongings, preparing to move out that very night.

Looking at the small room she’d once decorated herself, her heart was filled with desolation. How ironic—she’d once fought so hard to get in, and now only wanted to leave.

Ye Yaoyao stood at the door with a small suitcase, waiting for a car.

With a screech, a Rolls-Royce suddenly stopped before her, kicking up dust that made her cough.

“You…” Ye Yaoyao was about to protest, but when she saw the license plate, her words caught in her throat.

The window rolled down, revealing a handsome, cool face.

She’d already guessed, but when their gazes met, Ye Yaoyao’s pupils contracted sharply.

“Brother… why… why are you here?” Her eyes reddened instantly.

Ye Ziyou stepped out, his long legs striding forward, and pulled Ye Yaoyao into his arms.

“You little rascal! You lost!”

Back then, the little princess of the Ye family had chased after that boy so fiercely. The Ye family had secretly investigated, and everyone concluded it was Ye Yaoyao’s one-sided wish. Pitying her, they gave her a chance to run headlong into a wall, proposing a three-year trial.

If Ye Yaoyao succeeded in three years, the Ye family would provide a grand dowry and wedding.

If not, the Ye family would be her refuge and support.

Ye Yaoyao froze, then after a moment relaxed and nestled obediently into Ye Ziyou’s arms, murmuring, “Yes, I lost.”

“Hmph.” Ye Ziyou snorted, raising a hand to lightly tap her forehead. “I saw the news. That kind of man isn’t worth it.”

Thinking of Shen Yan’s actions, Ye Ziyou’s fists clenched.

He wanted to blame Ye Yaoyao for her stubbornness, but when he saw her reddened eyes, all reproach melted into a gentle sigh. “Yaoyao, you’ve suffered all these years.”

“Let’s go home. From now on, there’s no Madam Shen—only the Ye family’s little princess, Ye Yaoyao.”

Each word was both comfort and vow.

“As for the rest, don’t worry, Yaoyao. I’ll handle it.”

Shen Yan, was it?

He had no idea how lucky he was!

Dared to bully their little princess?

He must be tired of living!

…

Ye Yaoyao’s marriage ended without a divorce agreement.

After all, she and Shen Yan had signed a prenuptial contract. After yesterday, they were already strangers.

From now on, they should have nothing to do with each other.

But, being careless, she only realized after receiving her assistant’s call that her coming-of-age gift—a ring from her mother—was left at the Shen Corporation.

Taking the elevator, Ye Yaoyao went all the way up.

Things had changed; after her epiphany, she was reborn, adopting a new style. No longer the prim and proper woman of before, she wore a strapless top, low-waisted pants, her hair in big waves and lips painted crimson, her whole presence radiating deadly allure.

As she passed through the crowd, amid surprised stares, she walked calmly toward the CEO’s secretary’s office.

This was the real her—Ye Yaoyao was never just a dutiful wife who cooked and cleaned. The Ye family’s little princess was bold and flamboyant.

Pushing the door open, she found Qin Miao sitting in her chair, legs crossed, arms folded. Hearing the commotion, Qin Miao glanced at Ye Yaoyao’s outfit, first stunned, then her eyes flashed with jealousy.

“Tsk, you really are shameless. Not only did you scheme your way into marrying A-Yan, you even became his secretary?” Qin Miao looked Ye Yaoyao up and down, sneering, “Ye Yaoyao, you really are the ultimate lapdog.”