Ian did not falter here. His resolve to restrain expressions of affection to keep Laura’s love vibrant lasted until that evening.
After dinner, the couple sat together in front of the bedroom fireplace to spend the evening. Though it was the height of spring, the fickle English weather meant that as the sun set, the warm glow of the fireplace was necessary. They often spent their evenings like this, sitting by the fire, sharing time before heading to bed.
Laura brought a book—Jane Austen’s Mansfield Park. It was the very novel Ian had once harshly criticized as “Jane Austen’s worst work,” yet it was Laura’s favorite among Austen’s novels.
Ordinarily, Ian might have teased her, asking how many times she’d read it or what about the novel captivated her so much. But this time, he pretended not to notice, leaning back in his armchair and opening his own book—John Milton’s Paradise Lost.
The only sound between them was the rustling of pages. Normally, they would sit by the fire, chatting about the day’s events, so the silence felt quite awkward.
After some time, Laura, sitting across from him, let out a soft chuckle. Ian stole a glance at her over his book. She was leaning one arm on the armrest, holding the book with her other hand, giggling quietly as she read.
By gauging the thickness of the pages on either side, Ian deduced the scene she was reading.
“Sir Bertram’s return from Antigua, where the play falls apart,” he thought.
Ian gave a faint smile.
“It is quite a funny scene.”
He turned his gaze back to Paradise Lost. On the page, Satan was seducing Eve with florid rhetoric.
“Utterly dull,” Ian thought. “I found it quite gripping in university, didn’t I?”
He wanted to toss Paradise Lost aside and ask Laura to read her passage aloud but held back.
He stole another glance at Laura’s expression over the book. Her face, tilted toward the pages, was quite serious. She let out a deep sigh, looking distinctly displeased.
“What happened after Sir Bertram returned from Antigua?” Ian mused.
Maria Bertram marries Rushworth and leaves, while the charming, wealthy Henry Crawford, who had flirted with Maria, begins courting the heroine, Fanny Price. Fanny still loves her cousin Edmund, but those around her pressure her to accept the proposal.
Ian frowned.
“No wonder Laura’s upset. Damn it, just because she’s poor, should a seventeen-year-old like Fanny have to accept a proposal from an older philanderer like that?”
Ian clicked his tongue inwardly. Austen was an author who bluntly depicted the struggles of women without wealth in the marriage market. When reading her novels, Ian often felt emotionally close to the protagonists, suffering unnecessary heartache.
Having read all six of Jane Austen’s major novels at least four times, Ian thought, “As expected, Austen and I don’t get along,” while continuing to observe Laura’s expression.
Laura slowly turned the pages. The scene where Fanny, as punishment for refusing the proposal, is sent to her impoverished parents’ home. The moment when Henry, despite knowing her humiliating circumstances, continues to court her steadfastly. And then the climactic event—Henry, who had courted Fanny so earnestly, abandons her and runs off with the married Maria Bertram.
Throughout her reading, Laura didn’t seem to enjoy herself. When the scene arrived where Fanny marries Edmund, the man she loved so dearly, Laura quietly closed the book.
Ian still hid behind the same page of Paradise Lost he’d opened initially. Though the book blocked his view, he could sense Laura was deep in thought.
“Wasn’t that her favorite book? Why doesn’t she seem happy?” he wondered.
“Ian.”
He raised his eyebrows as if startled from deep reading and looked across at Laura.
“Yes?”
Laura was staring at him intently. Her eyes held a soft, tender emotion, almost dewy with affection.
To think that her usually calm gray eyes could hold such warmth. Ian’s stomach fluttered.
“What is it?”
She set the book aside and fidgeted with her fingers, looking shy and hesitant. The longer her hesitation lingered, the more his insides twisted oddly. Her gaze, her expression, her gestures—all of it was so lovable it drove him wild.
Maintaining a stoic face, he waited for her to speak.
“Um… I have a request…”
“Hm, what is it?”
Laura bit her lip. Her cheeks flushed like late autumn apples.
“Before we go to bed… could I sit on your lap?”
His book fell from his hands with a thud.
Ian couldn’t speak, as if a coin-sized stone were lodged in his throat.
“I’m sorry for bothering you while you’re reading. But…”
Laura hesitated again. Ian swallowed the imaginary stone.
“But what?”
“But…” Laura mumbled, dropping her gaze.
“…I’ve always wanted to sit on your lap.”
Without a word, he held out both arms.
Laura slowly rose from her chair. She cautiously approached Ian and perched lightly on his right knee.
Ian gently wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her shoulder to lean against his chest.
“Like this?”
Laura nodded. With a slightly trembling voice, he asked,
“Anything else you wanted to do?”
“Well…”
Laura fidgeted with her fingers again.
“…I’d like it if you rubbed your cheek against mine.”
Ian swallowed hard and pressed his right cheek lightly against her left.
“Like this?”
Laura gave a small smile.
“Yes.”
Her smooth, porcelain-like skin brushed against his cheek. He let out a sigh.
“Why is she doing this, especially on the day I decided to act indifferent?” he thought.
Unconsciously, he stroked the curve of her waist. His lips traced along her cheek, touching hers. He couldn’t help it—the desire to caress her while they were this close was irresistible.
He expected her to push him away, saying it was too early, but instead, Laura wrapped her arms around his neck. She peppered soft kisses across his face.
Ian couldn’t hold back any longer. He pulled her tightly into his arms.
“Laura.”
“Yes?” Her voice was dreamy, as if half-asleep.
“Are you trying to enchant me?”
Laura paused her kisses and looked into his face.
“Have I enchanted you?”
“…”
“No, that wasn’t my intention. I just…”
Laura’s eyes curved into crescents as she smiled.
“I wanted to love you. And to feel your love.”
Ian closed his eyes. A small sigh escaped his lips.
“I’m done for.”
Laura looked at her husband with a puzzled glimmer in her eyes.
He stood abruptly from the chair, lifting Laura’s body along with him.
He strode toward the bed. Laura clung silently to his neck.
Ian gently laid her down on the bed. His hand caressed her face—a large, burning hand, hot as forged iron.
“I’ll love you thoroughly.”
He leaned toward her.
“Don’t overthink tonight, Laura Dalton.”
Laura’s sweat-dampened hair spread across the intricate Turkish-patterned carpet. Too overwhelmed to gather her hair, she clung to Ian. He rubbed his cheek against her flushed, damp face. They held each other tightly, breathing heavily.
Their love, which began on the bed, ended on the soft carpet below. Dawn’s light was already filtering through the window.
Ian’s ragged breathing gradually calmed. He stroked Laura’s back as she still panted.
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
Laura shook her head.
“No pain anywhere?”
“Ha, ha… no…”
She hugged him tighter.
“There wasn’t a single moment that didn’t feel wonderful.”
Ian chuckled softly.
“I’m proud of that.”
“That’s weird. Why would you be proud of that?”
“Men are like that. Strange, isn’t it?”
They held each other for a while, feeling each other’s warmth, breath, and heartbeat.
Laura closed her eyes. Her entire being was filled with his love, more satisfying than any physical peak.
All night, he poured and poured and poured again. It was like a torrential rain cascading over her. No, like a towering tidal wave, as high as the Tower of Babel, crashing over her.
Laura wasn’t afraid or overwhelmed. If he was the tidal wave, she was a vast basin. Her soul, in the moment it touched Ian’s, became boundless and concave, catching every drop of his love without spilling a single one.
His love sloshed within the hollow of her soul, brimming, ready to overflow with one more drop.
“I’m happy. Truly, truly happy,” she thought.
Laura blinked back tears welling in her eyes. A tear rolled down the corner of her eye.
“Laura, I don’t want to ruin the mood, but what happened today?”
Ian asked after a long silence.
“The gifts, the affection, the seduction—it’s like you’re a different person.”
“Did you not like it?”
“Of course not.”
“Good. Then I can keep doing this.”
Ian gently pulled back from the embrace to meet her gaze.
“Really?”
Laura nodded.
“Wow.”
He let out an awestruck exclamation.
“This isn’t a dream, is it?”
Laura stretched his cheeks playfully.
“Nope, not a dream.”
They pressed their foreheads together, chuckling.
“But seriously, why are you like this? You’ve changed so suddenly, it’s almost scary.”
“No particular reason. I just realized how much I love you.”
Ex-husband Wants Reconciliation
One-line summary: Chasing the wife to the crematorium (making an effort to attract someone who has become indifferent), the female lead doesn’t look back, the second male lead takes the position.
Intro:
To repay the kindness of the older generation, Su Mu crossed into a female-dominated world and became a live-in daughter-in-law of the Yan family, single-handedly saving the Yan family from fire and water.
But her husband, Yan Jiyue, the eldest son of the Yan family, treated her with sarcasm and never showed her a good face.
It wasn’t until after Su Mu’s death that this pampered and arrogant young master shed a few fake tears and pretended to want to die for love.
This life’s kindness was enough. If there was a next life, she would definitely kick Yan Jiyue away.
Who knew that the heavens would be so kind as to allow her to be reborn, returning to the time when she had just married into the Yan family.
Su Mu glanced at the Yan eldest son, who still spoke coldly to her, and threw a divorce letter in front of him.
“Let’s divorce!”
***
Yan Jiyue never imagined that he would be reborn. He happily went to find Su Mu, wanting to make up for the mistakes he had made in his ignorant youth.
Wasn’t the reason the heavens allowed him to be reborn to let him reconcile with Su Mu?
But when he pushed open the door to Su Mu’s room, the person lying on the bed was another man.
Su Mu’s personal attendant, Xie Yi.
Yan Jiyue hated him so much that his teeth itched. In front of Su Mu, Xie Yi was a gentle and considerate whisperer of sweet nothings, but in reality, he was vicious-hearted and deliberately sabotaged their husband and wife relationship.
In the previous life, it was he who secretly hid in Su Mu’s coffin and committed suicide, stealing a step ahead of him to be buried with Su Mu.
Yan Jiyue’s eyes were filled with hatred as he cursed, “What kind of thing are you? Your background is lowly, what right do you have to occupy Su Mu?”
Xie Yi looked at the sleeping Su Mu and no longer pretended to be a whisperer of sweet nothings.
He proudly stuck out his belly, “I have the right because my belly is capable of giving the Wife-master a daughter.”
***
Yan Jiyue was consumed with jealousy. He spread rumors that Xie Yi had once been branded with the mark of a “harlot” on his chest.
But on the night Xie Yi cut off the flesh bearing that mark, Su Mu suddenly realized something was amiss.
“How did you know the exact moment I was poisoned? And why did you show up a month early?”
Xie Yi remained silent, blood from his wound soaking through his robes. His sapphire eyes brimmed with anguish – or was it just a flawless act?
Between a once-arrogant husband now seeking redemption, and a gentle soul willing to die for her – who truly held the darkest secrets? And could it be that Su Mu and Yan Jiyue weren’t the only ones given a second chance at life…?
[Reading Guide]
1. True divorce, chasing the wife to the crematorium, the female lead doesn’t look back, the male lead is Xie Yi.
2. The ex-husband did not cheat, he just realized too late and didn’t realize that he liked the female lead.
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