Exhausted after our marathon “conflict resolution,” I lay sprawled flat on the bed, too lazy to lift so much as a finger, a premium, certified version of a beached fish.

Fu Yanli carried me into the bathroom. His movements were unbelievably gentle, completely unlike a man who had gone full “feral beast” just moments ago. He looked at me with such delicate care, you’d think he was holding a hundred-billion-dollar antique.

I couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

“What are you laughing at?” he asked softly.

I poked his firm abs, teasing, “I’m laughing at you. A minute ago you were like a wolf that hadn’t eaten in three days, and now you’re a sweet, obedient puppy.”

Fu Yanli’s face flushed bright red instantly. He gave my rear a light, stern swat by way of “warning,” but his voice was overflowing with indulgence: “Don’t talk nonsense.”

After the bath, he carried me back to bed and swaddled me tightly in the blanket like a human burrito.

“Are you hungry? I’ll go make you something to eat.”

I nodded, quietly watching him get dressed to head out. Just as his hand touched the doorknob, I called out abruptly, “Fu Yanli.”

“Hmm?” He turned back.

“The divorce agreement…”

The moment those words hit his ears, his expression darkened instantly. He walked over, pulled the neatly folded papers out of the drawer, and right in front of my face, rip!

He shredded the document to pieces without a second thought.

“From now on, you are never to mention those words again,” he declared, tossing the handful of confetti into the trash, his tone utterly unyielding.

“Well, that won’t do,” I deliberately baited him.

Sure enough, he tensed up instantly. “Why?”

“From now on, if you ever dare to give me the cold shoulder again…” I tilted my chin up in defiance. “I’ll bring up those words every single day. Morning, noon, and night—the full combo package.”

Fu Yanli let out a low laugh, leaning down to press a soft kiss onto my forehead. “That will never happen. Never again.”

While he was in the kitchen cooking, I lay in bed scrolling through my phone and discovered a mountain of missed calls. Most were from Diep Tu, containing a single message: ARE YOU ALIVE???

There were also a few texts from Zhou Yuran:

I glared at the screen and scoffed. Playing the guardian angel now, are we? If he hadn’t “acted” so over-the-top, I wouldn’t have been put through the wringer like this! Still, despite myself, the corners of my lips curled upward.

I typed back a decisive reply: Thanks, I’m fine. My husband is doing ‘great’ too. Please don’t contact me again, he gets a little too jealous.

Having sent that, I immediately blocked his number and deleted the thread. Clean and efficient, like clearing out the trash. Only then did I call Diep Tu back.

“Hello, living person reporting in.”

“Holy shit! Finally an answer! I thought Professor Fu had disposed of your body! Quick, spill!”

I cleared my throat, adopting the tone of a seasoned survivor: “Don’t ask. From here on out, the newest species registered in my household ledger is: Fu Yanli.”

After that night of “talking things through,” our relationship did a complete 180-degree turn. Fu Yanli was no longer a walking block of ice; he had morphed into a massive, super-clingy puppy.

If I sat down to watch TV, he’d wrap his arms around me from behind. If I cooked, he’d stand right next to me, stealing kisses whenever he could. When I went to sleep, he held me so tightly you’d think he was afraid I’d sprout wings and fly away. Current status: glued together.

In particular, his possessiveness hadn’t decreased at all, if anything, it had skyrocketed. He casually checked my phone in broad daylight, clearing out any “suspicious contacts.” He even conducted a full audit of my wardrobe. Any dress that was slightly too revealing vanished into thin air.

His reasoning was entirely academic: “The fabric quality isn’t good. It’ll damage your skin.”

As if I’d buy that! He clearly just didn’t want anyone else looking at his wife. My mouth complained, but deep inside, my heart was dripping sweet as honey.

Today, the university where Fu Yanli worked was hosting a major academic gala. As his legal wife, I was expected to attend. Just as I was agonizing over what dress to choose, he walked up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist.

“Are you planning on wearing this?”

I held up a black backless gown. “What’s wrong with this one?”

“No.”

“This one?” (A deep V-neck dress.)

“Cut too low.”

“What about this slit dress?”

“Shows way too much leg.”

I whipped around and gave his cheek a sharp pinch. “Fu Yanli, should I just wear a burlap sack and call it a day?”

He caught my hand, kissed it softly, and said with absolute gravity, “I think the one I bought you looks best.”

Which was a dress sealed tight from collar to ankles. Pure “If anyone manages to see my wife’s skin, I lose” style.

Looking at his “If you don’t wear this, I’ll be sad for the rest of my life” face, I let out a sigh of defeat. “Fine. I’ll wear that one.”

His face bloomed like a flower in instant full bloom, and he leaned down to plant a loud, satisfying smooch on my cheek. “Good girl.”

At the gala, the hall reeked of money and polite pretension. Crystal glasses clinked softly, and empty pleasantries floated through the air.

As the man of the hour, Fu Yanli wore a custom black suit, his gold-rimmed glasses resting pristine on his nose. He had reverted back to his “default setting”: a refined, restrained, and distant Professor Fu. The kind of person you should only admire from afar, lest his frigid demeanor freeze you solid if you got too close.

I linked my arm through his, playing the role of a “limited-edition arm candy,” silently snickering: Keep acting, Professor! Who would believe that this noble gentleman, just ten minutes ago in the car, pinned me against the wall and kissed my lipstick off just because ‘this shade is too bold, I won’t let others see it.’

Just as I was thoroughly roasting him in my mind, an uninvited guest appeared.

Zhou Yuran.

His face stiffened when he saw us attached at the hip, but he forced a strained smile and stepped forward:

“Professor Fu, Miss Tang Yu… ah, I mean, ma’am.”

That awkward greeting made me want to bury my face in my hands on his behalf. Instantly, the temperature around Fu Yanli dropped below zero. The arm around my waist tightened so hard I worried my ribs were about to cry for help.

I patted the back of his hand reassuringly: Easy, honey. This is an academic gala, not the Roman Colosseum.

Fu Yanli took a deep breath and squeezed out a icy, professional smile. “Hello, Mr. Zhou.”

“I came with my advisor. I didn’t realize you two would…”

“It’s no problem,” I cut in with the sweetest smile I could muster. “It’s a small world.”

I deliberately used a warm, friendly tone. And right on cue, the grip on my waist tightened another notch. The largest vinegar jar of the century had officially shattered into pieces.

Midway through the party, I slipped into the restroom to touch up my lipstick. Just as I stepped into the quiet hallway outside, I found Zhou Yuran waiting there.

“What are you doing?” I asked warily.

“Miss Tang Yu, don’t misunderstand. I just wanted to apologize for the other day…”

“It’s fine. I’ve already forgotten about it.” I tried to brush past him, but he refused to let it go.

“Your husband… how does he treat you? I feel like he’s way too possessive. Are you truly happy by his side?”

Before I could even fire up my battle mode, an icy voice echoed from behind us:

“Whether my wife is happy or not is none of your concern, Mr. Zhou.”

Fu Yanli had appeared out of nowhere. He stepped up, pulling me into his arms in a posture of absolute protection. The look he gave Zhou Yuran was no longer a simple warning, it was a full-on “The only reason I’m holding back is because I’m wearing a suit” glare.

“Mr. Zhou, stay away from her. This is the last time I’ll say it.”

Without another word, he pulled me along, not sparing the guy a single backward glance.

Reaching a deserted, hidden corner, he suddenly pinned me against the wall. Bam!

Before I could react, a kiss heavy with the scent of raw jealousy crashed down on me. This time, there was no politeness, no pretend composure. Only a wild, desperate possessiveness and an overwhelming urge to mark his territory right then and there.

“Mm… Fu Yanli… there are people…” I managed to murmur through the sliver of space between our lips.

“I don’t care,” his voice was lower and more dangerous than ever. “I want the whole world to know who you belong to.”

His hands began to lose their composure, trailing down as he leaned close to my ear and whispered, “Didn’t you want thrill? Then let’s play a little bigger tonight.”

The melodious sounds of a violin drifted in from the main hall, accompanied by the clinking of glasses and laughter just a single wall away. And here, the most “restrained” professor everyone revered was doing things that were the absolute antithesis of restraint.

My heart hammered wildly against my ribs, terrified of getting caught yet utterly melted by his raw intensity. I clutched his suit jacket, trembling, “Don’t… not here…”

He raised his head, his eyes dark as night. “Scared now? You didn’t look scared talking to him earlier.”

“I was just… trying to make you jealous.”

He let out a low laugh, a sound born of helplessness and self-deprecation. “Tang Yu… you really do have me wrapped around your finger.”

This time, he didn’t push it all the way. He simply wrapped his arms tightly around me, burying his face in the crook of my neck, taking a deep breath as if recharging his soul.

“From now on, you’re not allowed to say more than three sentences to another man.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m your husband. Because I love you… to the point of madness.”

The final sentence was barely a whisper, but it had enough power to melt my entire heart.