[Rant Post1She used the word 吐槽君 or Tucao Jun, which is a name used by chinese netizens who wants to complain online – I want to submit a story, please keep me anonymous.]
[My husband and I have been married for four years. I’m from the south, he’s from the north, and he’s six years older than me. Our marriage was arranged by our families. Before marrying him, I’d never even been in a relationship, while he had a fiancée he almost married.]
[My family is well-off, and since he was older, he was very anxious to get married. Under pressure from both families, we tied the knot quickly.]
[Only after getting married did I discover that the house he prepared for us was pathetically small—less than half the size of my family’s home.]
[He never does any housework and has never given me a single cent, let alone anything else.]
[He’s not gentle with me at all—he avoids touching me whenever he can. We’ve been sleeping in separate rooms since the wedding, and I’ve put up with all of it.]
[This year on my birthday, he was away in another city and only sent me a heart-shaped stone as a gift. I didn’t even see his shadow.]
[I want a divorce, but my family says I’m being unreasonable and strictly forbids me from mentioning the word “divorce.” Rant Post, am I really being unreasonable?]
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Xd y bsv, okdezlpp pwxxla dktbv, vbkp ydsduxswp pwcxkppksd rspvle vs Elkcs pryajle y qkalpvsax.
Llvkgldp, lhla alyeu qsa cyvvzl kd vbl “Fnwxcyt Uldvayz” nyxr, tayccle vblka olyrsdp—jlucsyaep—yde zywdnble kdvs vblka fwetxldv sq vbl xyd kd iwlpvksd.
[Ebyv eke usw lhld xyaau bkx qsa? Jlnywpl bl’p szela? Jlnywpl bl’p pvkdtu, rssa, yde zygu?]
[Zlv ydsvbla ldvau kd vbl “pnwxcyt okvb y okql” plaklp.frt]
[Yyucl bl’p tyu? R jdso y osxyd obs tsv vaknjle kdvs xyaakytl cu y tyu xyd. Tla pkvwyvksd oyp fwpv zkjl uswap.]
[Psd’v vbaso yoyu vbyv blyav-pbyrle pvsdl—nszzlnv plhld yde pwxxsd Fbldasd2Mbl Paytsd kd Paytsd Jyzz H.]
[Fsxl ryaldvp dlhla nsdpkela vblka eywtbvla’p byrrkdlpp. Xdnl xyaakle sqq, y eywtbvla kp zkjl prkzzle oyvla. Zsw dlle vs okpl wr.]
[Jlv bkp lm-qkydnél alyzkgle obyv y flaj bl oyp yde nyzzle sqq vbl ldtytlxldv. Xvblaokpl, obu cynj swv aktbv clqsal vbl oleekdt?]
[Why not get divorced—save it for Chinese New Year? Sounds like you don’t have kids, so get out now while you still can.]
…
While Weibo was abuzz, the original author of the anonymous submission—Chen Luoru—was all the way across the Atlantic in London, England.
Dixon Bar was famous for its uniquely flavored cocktails. Chen Luoru swirled a stemmed glass, its clear liquor shimmering under the dim, seductive lights. A trace of absinthe and clove lingered on her tongue.
Beneath her long, thick lashes were eyes that sparkled like stars. Thin eyeliner hinted at allure, and her slightly upturned red lips left a charming mark on the glass.
Her silky black hair just brushed her collarbones, the tips lightly grazing a delicate diamond necklace.
She wore a black camisole that hugged her graceful figure. Her porcelain arms propped up her dainty chin.
She had on a black leather biker skirt, legs crossed atop a barstool. The skirt was pulled just enough to barely cover her upper thighs. Her long, fair legs kept drawing glances from the men around her.
Chen Luoru scrolled on her phone and sneered, casting her eyes toward the band onstage.
The band was called The Raspberries—not well known, but one she liked a lot.
Today was the Queen’s Birthday, a public holiday in all Commonwealth countries.
Technically, Queen Elizabeth II’s birthday was in April, but the official celebration was scheduled in June when the weather was better for outdoor events.
Today was also Chen Luoru’s 22nd birthday on the Gregorian calendar.
Back home, she had always celebrated her birthday based on the lunar calendar. But her British friends remembered her Gregorian birthday—and even joked that she shared a birthday with the Queen this year.
They said they were throwing her a birthday party, but Chen Luoru wouldn’t let them spend money.
Tonight, she booked the venue herself and invited the band she liked.
It should’ve been a wild, indulgent night—but she just couldn’t get into the mood.
Earlier that day, she had a fight with her parents.
She had just graduated, and her parents were demanding she return to China to “be a good wife and raise children.” They even said her top priority now was to give her husband a baby as soon as possible.
Chen Luoru thought her parents were dreaming—or worse, playing Pokémon.
She had made up her mind not to return. Furious, her parents raged in the family group chat, saying they’d rather have given birth to a slab of barbecued pork than to her.
Despite her youth, Chen Luoru had already been married for four years.
But the marriage was absurd and laughable—far from what she ever wanted.
Chen Luoru had a sister six years older than her, named Chen Yang.
When Chen Yang was born, the family business, Ling Sheng Real Estate, had just gotten off the ground. With their hands full building a real estate empire, Chen Guanglong and his wife were too busy to properly raise their daughter.
With no one to guide her, Chen Yang turned wild. She picked up every bad habit, but never managed to pick up her studies.
When she was five, they had her IQ tested. The result was so low her parents seriously considered whether a slab of roast pork would’ve been a better outcome—though it later turned out Chen Yang had faked it to avoid getting dragged off to study.
Seeing their “main account” ruined, the couple decided to create an “alt account” to try again. And so Chen Luoru was born.
They’d hoped for a boy—but it was another girl.
They were mildly disappointed, but by then the family had solid footing. So they took great care in raising and educating Chen Luoru.
She was born in Guangdong, held a Hong Kong passport, and was raised as a socialite.
At age 7, she was sent to an international school in Hong Kong. At 16, she enrolled in the prestigious Westminster School in the UK—one of Britain’s top nine public schools—then went on to Cambridge University to study architectural design.
By all accounts, she was on a path entirely different from Chen Yang’s.
But who would’ve thought—she would end up cleaning up her sister’s mess.
Five years ago, Chen Guanglong wanted to expand into Beijing—but the capital’s elite circles shut him out.
As the saying goes, it’s easy to get rich, hard to get accepted. In the eyes of Beijing’s socialites, the Chens were just nouveau riche. Nobody wanted to associate with them.
Chen Guanglong pulled strings and made connections, until someone finally agreed to give him a foot in the door—the prestigious Meng family from Jinghong.
Jinghong wanted to collaborate with Ling Sheng to build private hospitals nationwide. It was a golden opportunity.
As luck would have it, the Meng family’s eldest grandson, Meng Jianchen, was the same age as Chen Yang—a perfect match.
Chen Guanglong and his wife, Fu Lifang, immediately began grooming Chen Yang into a proper “young lady.”
At the time, both Meng Jianchen and Chen Yang were in the U.S., so they met and quickly got engaged—much faster than the Chens had expected.
Then, just before the wedding, Chen Yang was found to be pregnant.
The Chen couple were overjoyed—before the marriage even took place, their daughter had already secured her position as the future daughter-in-law of the Meng family.
That joy lasted until Chen Yang dropped the bomb:
“The child isn’t his.”
Like a thunderbolt from a clear sky, the joyous occasion turned into a disaster.
The Chens:
“Then whose is it?”
Chen Yang casually said, “How would I know whose it is?”
She counted on her fingers the men she had slept with. After using up all ten fingers, she still hadn’t landed on Meng Jianchen’s name.
With the wedding fast approaching, and the consequences of a scandal looming, the Chen couple nearly fainted.
The collaboration between the two families was progressing steadily. If the engagement were called off, Chen Guanglong would likely never set foot in Beijing’s elite circles again.
But if they didn’t call it off, the fact that Chen Yang had cheated and carried another man’s child would raise serious issues about bloodline. The Meng family would never accept that.
Stuck between a rock and a hard place, some relative came up with a terrible idea: wasn’t there a younger daughter studying in the UK—Chen Luoru?
So Chen Guanglong went to test the waters with Meng Jianchen, asking if he minded having a different wife. Oh wait—a new wife.
One who was prettier, cuter, smarter, and more refined—just a little younger. But hey, both sisters were surnamed Chen; what difference did it make?
Meng Jianchen was a man who knew how to weigh pros and cons, and Chen Guanglong quickly got his approval.
Chen Luoru, manipulated by her entire family, was coaxed onto the pirate ship. Chen Guanglong called it “laying bricks for the family enterprise” and swore that she would bring honor and glory to their name.
And so, at just barely adulthood, Chen Luoru registered a marriage in Hong Kong with her almost-brother-in-law—a man she had only met a few times.
Every time she thought about it, Chen Luoru wished she could go back in time and smack the idiocy out of herself.
She was clearly just a pawn sacrificed for the sake of the family—who cared whether she and Meng Jianchen were compatible after marriage? All that “debutante training” just made her a more high-end bargaining chip than her sister.
Thankfully, she had spent the past four years studying in the UK and hadn’t returned to China much. She especially hated going to Beijing.
Meng Jianchen, to his credit, knew how to keep his distance. They rarely communicated. It was a marriage in name only—basically like being widowed.
Yes, an ideal husband should basically act like he’s dead.
If her parents hadn’t insisted she return to China today, she honestly would’ve forgotten all about getting a divorce.
But the moment she said the word “divorce,” her parents exploded like cats who had stepped on a landmine.
Chen Luoru realized that to sound the horn of divorce, she first needed to win public opinion. She couldn’t go head-on, so she went with a flanking maneuver.
Submitting an anonymous post to Rant Account was her first move—she had to let the world know how much her husband sucked and how miserable she was!
“Christina,” someone called her English name. She turned to see her friend Daniel. “Happy birthday.”
Daniel was a handsome British guy with blond hair, blue eyes, and a sprinkling of freckles along his nose.
He raised his glass and clinked it gently against hers. Chen Luoru took a symbolic sip.
“Wow, your necklace is stunning,” Daniel said, his gaze landing on the pink diamond necklace at her collarbone.
Under the dim lights of the bar, the necklace sparkled brilliantly. Its color and cut were both flawless.
And the diamond pendant? A rare heart-shaped pink diamond.
“I heard from my uncle who works at a London auction house—last week, a mysterious Chinese buyer bought a heart-shaped pink diamond for a sky-high price… Don’t tell me… it’s the one you’re wearing?” Daniel teased.
All her friends knew that Chen Luoru’s parents were wealthy Chinese businesspeople, so a pink diamond was nothing out of reach.
Chen Luoru glanced at the necklace, her feelings a mix of emotions.
Wait… an auction in London?
Meng Jianchen is in the UK?
She was about to leap up from her stool—but then she thought again: a busy guy like Meng Jianchen wouldn’t come himself. It was probably someone from his team.
With that thought, she relaxed and sat back down.
—
At 11 p.m., Chen Luoru gave a lazy yawn. She was getting tired—she rarely stayed up late, so she decided to leave first.
Her friends, night owls that they were, only got more hyped as the night went on. She told them to keep partying and put everything on her tab.
Pushing through the rowdy crowd and stepping out of the bar, she found a fine drizzle falling from the navy blue sky.
It was classic London weather. She had checked the forecast before going out, but still, the rain had come without warning.
Daniel held out a black umbrella while Chen Luoru stepped into the street. A little tipsy from the cocktails, her cheeks were slightly flushed.
Tottering on heels, she accidentally caught her thin stiletto in a sidewalk crack.
Her ankle twisted, and Daniel quickly reached out to steady her.
“Careful,” he said.
“Oh, thanks.”
Just as they were speaking, two blinding headlights lit up across the street, cutting through the fine rain like needles.
Chen Luoru instinctively raised her hand to shield herself from the sudden glare. Through the slits between her fingers, she squinted toward the light.
A jet-black Rolls-Royce Phantom emerged from the shadows. Standing in front of it was a tall Asian man in a tailored black suit, his expression calm and composed.
He held a long umbrella. On his left ring finger was a modest wedding band, and his cufflinks gleamed with tasteful detail.
Raindrops slid off the edge of the umbrella, splashing to the pavement below.
His lips were pressed in a firm line, his jaw clenched tightly. And his eyes—dark and fathomless.
The drizzle soaked the gray pavement, forming little puddles in the dips of the stone tiles.
Chen Luoru looked at herself—half-dressed in her party outfit—and then at the handsome British guy beside her.
Whatever drunken haze she had left—the rain washed it all away.
Meng Jianchen finally spoke, in perfect American-accented English:
“Had your fun yet, Mrs. Meng?”
He bit down hard on that last phrase—“Mrs. Meng”—as if afraid her foreign friend wouldn’t understand it.
Sansukini: Hi guys. A new project again. This time, it’s about a spoiled brat who likes to exaggerate things and her very patient husband who’s willing to spoil her all the time. The FL is a bit annoying at first, but she’s got a soft heart and there will be a great character development later.
Yeah a new project! 🕺🏾💃🏾🎉
Hi Meli. Thanks for always supporting.