Under the Cheongsam Skirt - Chapter 22

Mu Changfeng was stunned.

The shock in his pupils was unmistakable. Feng Jinzhen’s expression softened slightly as well. “It was discovered early last year. The municipal hospital confirmed it at the time. Even with treatment, it would be very difficult for her to conceive in the future, especially since she’s not young anymore.”

She continued, “I didn’t force her. The decision to divorce was her own. That child must have been suffering deeply. For a woman, something like this ruins her entire life…”

The room fell into silence.

Under the warm orange light, Mu Changfeng’s expression looked strange, as if he were torn between frowning and holding back some emotion.

Finally, he spoke. “No, her life isn’t ruined.”

“She is my lawfully wedded wife. We exchanged vows, signed the marriage contract, and have been husband and wife for eleven years. We lived without children before, and I wouldn’t mind continuing without children in the future. The one who minds is you, Mother.”

Mu Changfeng took a step closer. His posture was upright, but his gaze locked directly with Feng Jinzhen’s. “You say you didn’t force her, but what about your actions? Raising eight or ten ‘adopted daughters’ by your side, waiting for me to return so you could pick one for me, all under the noble pretense of continuing the family line. It was you who left her with no choice but to leave.”

“Mother, you’ve humiliated her, and in doing so, you’ve humiliated me.”

Mu Changfeng’s father had passed away early, and Feng Jinzhen had clearly never been treated so coldly by her son before. She was momentarily too angry to react. “You… you…”
But Mu Changfeng remained unmoved.

His gaze swept over Qiao Manjun, who was kneeling on the floor, trembling and looking pitiful. He said coldly, “If something like last night happens again, don’t blame me for shooting these people. If they have the courage, let them try. They can see if I keep my word.”

Feng Jinzhen was stunned. Before she could respond, Mu Changfeng strode out of the room.

***

The next day, at the Western-style afternoon tea house.

The shop had just opened, and only one customer had arrived. The man had a tall nose bridge, sharp facial features, and an air of solemnity and intensity. His dangerous demeanor carried an inexplicable allure, making the waitstaff steal glances at him.

Mu Changfeng paid no attention to the surrounding gazes. He rested one hand on the edge of the table and kept the other in his pocket, sitting sideways as he looked out the window.

It should have been a relaxed, casual posture, but the tension in his upright shoulders and back left no room for carelessness.

He was looking at the art gallery across the street.

Since last night, Mu Changfeng had repeatedly wondered why Zhao Ciqin had never told him about this. Why had she only sent him a cold divorce letter without a single word of explanation?

In her heart, was he really so unworthy of her trust?

Or did she think that, once he found out she couldn’t have children, he would abandon her without hesitation?

But the next moment, the anger, sadness, and that faint sense of sorrow in his chest suddenly receded like a tide. Mu Changfeng stared blankly out the window.

—A car stopped in front of the art gallery, and Zhao Ciqin stepped out. She was wearing a cyan cheongsam today, her curled hair ending just below her ears, revealing her fair neck and the jade-like curve of her earlobe.

The moment she appeared, the bustling crowd and passing vehicles around her faded into the background.

Mu Changfeng was about to get up and go to her, but the next scene forced him back into his seat.

Another figure emerged from the car—a man with a scholarly demeanor. They exchanged glances, and after saying something to each other, Zhao Ciqin reached out to take his hand. Perhaps because there weren’t many people around, she finally stood on her tiptoes and kissed his jaw.

In that instant, Mu Changfeng’s expression changed.