On the Wedding Night, I Transmigrated to After the Divorce – Chapter 93
by Little PandaI Do
I’ll Never Make You Sad Again
The howling wind swept up snowflakes, tearing at the world, yet time seemed to have stopped. Fu Yunqing stood rooted in place, holding the camera, eyes lowered toward the ring in the viewfinder, motionless.
She seemed stunned, shocked, frozen — and also as if she feared shattering the illusion before her, holding even her breath.
The recording continued, ticking up second by second. The lens faced the wind without moving, catching snowflakes until the image grew blurry. A panic seized her, as if the illusion were about to dissolve — only then did she lower the camera and look at the ring with her own eyes. Still unable to process it, she glanced up helplessly to read Yu Yan’s expression.
Yu Yan smiled at her, tears shimmering in her smiling eyes, with a touch of bittersweetness.
She actually said, “Fu Yunqing, my birthday wish for my twenty-fourth year — will you be my wife again, my closest family?”
What… what…
Fu Yunqing thought she had misheard.
Was this a hallucination?
Was this a dream?
But the scene before her was something she had never even dared to dream of.
To be her wife again, her closest family…
She realized what it meant, and it was almost too much to bear. She turned her face away, one hand still holding the recording camera, the other trembling as she wiped her tears. She could barely hold herself up, tilting her head back to look at the snow filling the sky, then doubled over, losing all composure.
She was completely unprepared for this. Just a second ago, she had been anxiously worrying about their future, fretting over what she would do if she couldn’t help make her wish come true.
What if the rift that had stood between them for over a year couldn’t be healed even with time?
She was on the verge of breaking down.
Her unwillingness to let go and her fear, her remorse and heartache, and the loneliness, pain, and grievances she had endured for so long — all these emotions she had carried for so long and suppressed for so long erupted at this moment.
She lost control. Her shoulders trembled with emotion, her head buried as she sobbed aloud. She had always been restrained and strong — when had she ever shown such vulnerability? Yu Yan stepped forward to hold her and said, “I’m sorry.”
“Jiejie, I’m sorry…” Yu Yan’s emotions were swept along. She looked at her in anguish. “Really, I’m so, so sorry. I was too fragile. I was too childish and unsteady back then. I hurt you.”
“It’s my fault. I was too selfish. I let you get hurt so deeply. I’m sorry…”
From the moment she recovered her memory, Yu Yan had wanted to say these words to her. The moment her memory returned, what flooded her heart was regret upon regret. She sat on the bed, her heart torn apart, for an entire night.
That day in Weicheng when she met her, putting on a carefree front — she had never properly apologized to her jiejie.
She should have owned up to her mistakes. She should have humbly begged for her forgiveness.
What a good person Fu Yunqing was — why did she have to suffer all that for no reason? She loved Yu Yan so dearly. How could Yu Yan have hurt her like that, trampled on her heart?
Two full months of cold violence1, insisting on separating, insisting on staying away from her. For those two months, every time Fu Yunqing tried to communicate, she was met with cold indifference — how heartbroken must she have been? Yu Yan didn’t dare imagine. Even in the final moments at the civil affairs bureau before they received the divorce certificate, Fu Yunqing was still trying to hold on to her, swallowing everything and humbling herself. How had she survived the year and more apart?
For someone so rational and self-disciplined to start smoking and drinking — how much pain must she have been in?
She said she couldn’t sleep. She said she had become so sensitive. She said she was paranoid and suspicious. She said she had been spying on her, monitoring her. She said she was despicable and extreme. She said she had lost her mind.
She said she was afraid that once Yu Yan recovered her memory, the first person she would discard was her.
She was right. Yu Yan was the one who ruined her. Yu Yan was the one who drove her mad.
When she had amnesia, Yu Yan didn’t understand why her heart ached until she couldn’t breathe, didn’t understand what those feelings were for. It turned out that even with her memories lost, her heart still remembered — her subconscious was loving her on her behalf.
Still aching for her, shedding tears for her, hurting so much for her that she wanted to retch.
Whether before or now, Fu Yunqing always played the role of the elder in their relationship. She tolerated everything about Yu Yan, shouldered everything between them, bottled up all her grievances as if it were simply her duty. Yu Yan was always the one being cared for, being indulged.
Some lessons only come through experience. Recalling everything and looking back, Yu Yan finally realized how fragile and immature she had been.
When she remembered everything, she truly, truly ached for her beloved.
“You always ache for me, always apologize to me, always put me first. But what about you? How much have you suffered? How much have you hurt?”
Learning that she had been ill, Fu Yunqing only cared about asking how she felt, whether she was better, whether she was happy — her mind full of how to make it up to her, pushing aside her own feelings entirely.
Fu Yunqing only cared about helping celebrate her birthday — but what about her own birthday?
— November 20th, during their cold war. The amnesiac Yu Yan had only cared about livestreaming to make money, only cared about eating, drinking, and having fun, completely forgetting her and her birthday.
How had she spent that birthday?
She was clearly the one who deserved to be made whole. She also needed to be cherished, needed a sense of security, needed to be chosen without hesitation, needed someone to soothe her vulnerability.
After recovering her memory, Yu Yan had been thinking: should they stay together? Should they separate? Where would she go if they did? What about Fu-jiejie? Separating would only bring each other endless harm, so could they even separate? How would they separate? Why should they? And who could bear to?
They could no longer be apart.
If they were destined to be entwined forever, Fu Yunqing had already walked ninety-nine steps toward her. The final step should be hers to take.
“Can I come back to Fu-jiejie’s side?”
“I won’t leave again. No matter what I become, no matter what you become, no matter what happens, I won’t run away anymore. I won’t let you be sad again.”
Yu Yan was making a promise, but she was crying, crying hard. The wind here was too fierce, too cold — tears would freeze into ice. Yu Yan, with no thought for her own tear-streaked face, cupped Fu Yunqing’s cheeks and wiped her tears for her. Fu Yunqing buried her face in her shoulder, clutching the hem of her coat, sobbing and trembling without stopping. Yu Yan held her, tightening her arms again and again.
It took a long while for Fu Yunqing to regain enough strength to lift herself in Yu Yan’s arms. She raised her head, her whole face red from crying, the residual tears on her lashes seemingly turned to frost, and looked at Yu Yan through wet eyes.
Yu Yan knew she lost control because she had truly suffered too much, too much pent up in her heart. Yu Yan gazed into those eyes, brimming with shattered ripples.
“In the year and more we’ve been apart, I missed you the whole time. I know I was wrong. I shouldn’t have run, shouldn’t have been a coward, shouldn’t have hurt you without regard for your feelings. This time I don’t want to leave. I can’t be without you. I want to make it up to you, to care for you, to protect you, to love you the way you love me.”
“Can you give me one more chance?”
“Let me stay by your side forever, never to part again.”
“Will you?”
Over three years ago, at the grand wedding across the ocean, Yu Yan was full of innocent bewilderment, following the adults’ wishes, not understanding what the words “I do” she casually spoke truly meant.
Now the waves surged and the blizzard raged. In this frozen, desolate place, Yu Yan, because she loved someone, had grown into a version of herself she had never imagined. For the first time, she gave everything she had with unwavering resolve. For the first time, she understood what it meant when Fu Yunqing spoke the words “I do” — what she had truly gained.
“I do.”
“Yanyan, I do…”
Ah…
A voice in Yu Yan’s heart was saying:
— You have gained the most incomparable happiness in the world.
— You have gained a commitment that will endure until death.
Yu Yan’s vision blurred. She knew she was smiling. She took Fu Yunqing’s hand — perhaps because it was too cold, perhaps because she was too happy — her hand was trembling a little. It took several fumbling attempts before she slipped the ring onto her left ring finger. Just like her first impression when she saw the ring through the shop window: it suited Fu-jiejie so well.
That single glance had cemented her resolve.
She looked up, and her cheeks were immediately cupped by the woman before her. The chill of the ring and her fingers pressed against Yu Yan’s face, and Yu Yan’s smile grew wider. Fu Yunqing worried that her face would suffer frostbite after all that crying, so she gently wiped her tears with her scarf, then wrapped the scarf around her face. She gazed at her, unable to look away, unable to let go.
“Thank you. I…” Her voice still caught as she spoke. “I’m so surprised, so happy.” She felt her words fell short, nowhere near enough to express what she felt in this moment.
“Does Fu-jiejie believe me?” Yu Yan asked with a touch of playfulness — just like always, pleased with herself whenever she did something to make her jiejie happy.
Fu Yunqing smiled. “I believe you.”
So many things she didn’t know how to say — her gratitude, her relief — she knew Yu Yan must understand.
She knew that in this moment, Yanyan had truly come back to her side.
She was so grateful that the final step of their true reconciliation had been Yu Yan’s to take — it told her she wasn’t the only one who had been silently striving.
When had Yanyan started preparing this?
How had she managed to keep it from her?
Yanyan had truly grown up, in the places she couldn’t see.
But she was so glad — even though Yanyan had grown up, she could still help make her twenty-fourth birthday wish come true.
Was there anything happier than this?
Fu Yunqing caressed her cheek, then in the raging waves and swirling snow, lowered her head and gently pressed her lips to hers.
They closed their eyes and felt each other with their hearts. The cold touch quickly melted into hot breath and the clinging intertwining of lips and tongues, deeper and deeper, more and more tender.
Heedless of the dark night, heedless of the blizzard.
Their hearts pressed together too — truly, unreservedly pressed together — melting away every barrier in their shared warmth, an endless flow of love healing each other’s wounds.
The author has something to say:
Stop guessing — no more knives2 to come! They’re a devoted couple. Neither could bear to break the other’s heart, and neither would ever put the other through the crematorium3.
Footnotes
- 'Cold violence' (leng baoli) is a Chinese term for emotional abuse through silence, withdrawal, and neglect — the silent treatment used as a weapon.
- In Chinese web novel fandom, 'knives' (daozi) refers to painful, angsty plot developments that hurt the reader emotionally.
- 'Crematorium' refers to the popular web novel trope 'chasing wife crematorium' (zhui qi huo zang chang), where a character must suffer and work desperately to win back a partner they mistreated.
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