Remembering the wedding night, he calmly told her, "I'm very busy. If there's nothing else, I might not come back. However, both parents are waiting to carry their grandson. You should calculate the date of ovulation and make an appointment with my secretary. "

Therefore, he would only come back on the night of the 8th of every month. The marriage had lasted three years, and for three years they had been together for only forty-eight nights. Zhan Yan felt like a grieving concubine in a harem in ancient times. She had been looking forward to see him, but had lost hope in the endless darkness and waiting.

When Ji Weiyang came out of the bathroom, he was already lying on the bed. He was completely still, only leaving a thin figure behind.

She felt him topple over on his side, the mattress deeply sunken, the clean scent of shower milk in the air.

In the darkness, the familiar large palm caressed her smooth skin without restraint. Cold and aggressive, it climbed up her flat belly.

"Must it be like this? I don't want to today. " She suddenly pressed his hand and coldly refused.

"His arms were wrapped around her waist, and his warm chest was pressed against her cold back." "Why?" he asked emotionlessly.

"I'm not feeling well today." She spoke half-heartedly, but the next moment, his broad palm had already covered her head.

"I don't have a fever. I'm just a bit tired." She pulled his hand off his forehead.

"Yes." He snorted and turned away. Not long after, his breathing gradually died down.

Zhan Yan was finally relieved. Perhaps this was the only advantage of this man, as she very rarely said no to him. However, as long as she said that, he would never force her to do anything, and that included making love.

Zhan Yan woke up in the middle of the night, but the seat beside her was already empty. She saw that the jacket on the sofa was still there and he had not left.

She quietly sat on the bed. Through the slightly opened door, Zhan Yan heard the man's gentle voice come from the direction of the balcony, "Also, do you feel uncomfortable anywhere? "Good girl, I'll go back and accompany you tomorrow …"

Zhan Yan held tightly onto the thin blanket on her body. She really wanted to rush out and interrogate him loudly, "Ji Weiyang, what exactly is our marriage in your eyes?"

But she couldn't. There were some things that, once broken, meant they were about to be lost. Right now, this marriage was the only thing she had. She couldn't afford to lose it.

The sky in the east had just turned white.

Zhan Yan had not slept for the entire night. She fumbled her way into the bathroom and revealed a pale and haggard face in the mirror. She smiled bitterly as her fingertips pressed against her sore temple and used her other hand to grab the foundation powder.

She hurriedly lowered her body to pick it up. Her fingertips stung and the sharp shard ruthlessly cut a deep wound on her palm. Blood immediately gushed out. "Ahhh!" She helplessly fell to the ground and buried her face in her knees. Her shoulders trembled and tears flowed down her face with an indescribable feeling of grievance.

What had she done wrong? Why did she have to be bullied? Even a glass bottle had to be bullied.