"And what about you?" Alexander King looked at her, his pale lips taking a sip, leaving the rim of the glass spotless. She was a woman who didn’t like makeup.

"The decision of emotional factors might be the increase or decrease in the amount of excitement within a certain timeframe. During that period in the United Kingdom, it was when my excitement was at its lowest." The liquid in her mouth carried the unique mellow aroma of red wine, but unfortunately, she didn’t really understand wine tasting.

"And what about the days we were married?"

Alexander took the wine glass from her hand and held her hand.

Her hand was fair and dainty, just like her, with delicate pink nails neatly manicured on her slender fingers.

"Us?"

She suddenly found this word a bit laughable. What was their relationship, anyway? That was exactly what she was pondering.

Floyd Thomson once pointed out in the context of relationships between men and women: the core content of love naturally refers to the unity aimed at sexual union. All impulses strive to achieve sexual union, and in some occasions, their purpose is shifted or hindered, yet they always retain their nature, enough to make their identity recognizable.

Based on this theory, he might be in love with Jade Willow.

Though she was his nominal wife, Jade Willow had qualities that made her identity recognizable.

"Actually, Alexander, maybe we’re really not suitable for each other, so let’s separate."

She finally said it, unable to become hysterical, even though she wanted to cry, scream, and ask him why he treated her this way.

But ultimately, it was useless.

"Why did you suddenly bring this up?" Alexander smiled, playing with her small hand in his slightly rough palm.

He wanted to know the root of the problem, as it was really hard to guess if his little wife didn’t speak.

"Alexander, in terms of emotional and moral views, we are strangers. Do you think there’s still a need to maintain this marriage?" She closed her eyes a little wearily, perhaps not wanting him to see the redness in her eyes.

"Tell me about your views on emotion and morals, so that I might know how to align with you."

His voice was as warm as the sunlight of a spring afternoon, but it was too late.

Alexander, it’s all too late.

:"The best things don’t come alone; they come with everything else. Alexander, in my past years, though my mother left me early, my father gave me all his love, including my mother’s share. During my studies abroad, I didn’t have to do different part-time jobs like many seniors did; I had no financial worries, but I devoted almost all my wonderful time to my studies. So, when they quickly gained social experience, I was still just a bookworm. This marriage made me feel happy, secure, and warm, but in the end, everything came together. Alexander, I’m a person with emotional cleanliness, but I can’t demand you be the same because we are equal and free."

She spoke very tactfully, but she knew he would surely understand.

He was the most beautiful memory of her entire youth. Even after what had happened, she still hoped to part on good terms, perhaps because of her nature.

Alexander just felt his heart sink to the bottom, bitter, and painful...

————————————Separator——————————————————

On the same night, Joshua Hughes returned to the Imperial Garden, full of the smell of alcohol, stumbling into the room.

He was always a good drinker, seldom getting drunk, but this time he was drunk without having much. Was it because of his mood?

The woman on the bed slept soundly. Under the soft quilt, her petite figure almost blended into the snow-white sheets.

His gaze was bloodshot as though it was ready to drip blood, staring at her fiercely. He swung his large hand, lifting the quilt. The little girl nestled in the warm bed, already in dreamland, shivered at the sudden cold air. Her familiar little face instinctively frowned under her delicate brows...

The person on the bed seemed to shiver from the sudden cold air and opened her sleepy eyes, glancing at the man standing by the bedside.

Joshua Hughes’ tall and heroic figure stood there, blocking a large swath of soft yellow light.

He was drunk, his eyes bloodshot as he stared at her unblinkingly.

This was the way he was, and every time she saw him, she was always caught off guard, fearful, and anxious.

She would never willingly smile at him, never.

"Go make me some peanut dumplings, get up and bathe me, and massage me, get up and talk to me. How you used to accompany that dead one, now accompany me the same way..." His hoarse voice was slightly slurred with alcohol.

He leaned down, long rough fingers pinching her chin, watching her little face transition from drowsy to clear, to a final flash of disdain in her eyes.