It's Too Late to Chase Your Wife

The winter in Nancheng is bitingly cold and humid. The evening wind at the end of December carried broken snow and hit it on the floor-to-ceiling windows, rustling like a silent farewell. Xia Qing sat on the sofa in the empty living room, holding the thin divorce agreement in her fingertips. Her fingertips were red from the cold, and the warmth in her heart was bitten away bit by bit by the cold. Two full years of marriage…. This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.