Just because they weren't Hailey Tang's biological parents…
There was ultimately nothing they could do to stop her.
If she really wanted a divorce, no one could stop her.
And judging from her tone and behavior lately, this wasn't just a tantrum.
She was dead serious.
They knew Hailey's temper well enough to realize what that meant.
Once she made up her mind, even ten oxen couldn't drag her back.
Which was exactly why Grandpa Hai—Haizhi Yuan—was starting to realize just how bad things had gotten.
That evening, he personally called Ethan Yu.
They spoke for a long time.
Hailey, of course, had no idea this had happened. In her mind, the moment Ethan returned, they'd finalize the divorce, sign the papers, and that would be it.
Simple.
Straightforward.
Done.
Hailey stayed on at the old family estate.
Living at home was… surprisingly comfortable. Everything was familiar—the scent of aged wood, the quiet hum of servants going about their day, her grandfather's occasional humming as he practiced calligraphy in the next room.
It was like being wrapped in a soft, slightly judgmental blanket of nostalgia.
In the mornings, she'd get up early to accompany her grandfather on his daily exercise walk. Afterward, they'd play a game of chess or practice calligraphy. He taught her how to control her breath, how to let the brush flow like water.
At noon, they'd eat together, and afterward, she'd take a blissful afternoon nap.
Hailey was really starting to enjoy this life of ease.
TV in the evening. A light dinner. More TV. Maybe some herbal tea.
She was starting to feel like a useless couch potato—and loving it.
Three days passed just like that.
After lunch on the third day, she headed to her room as usual for her nap. She had just dozed off when, in the middle of rolling over, her hand hit something warm and solid.
Huh?
Still half-asleep, Hailey groggily reached out and… poked it again.
Definitely warm.
Definitely not a pillow.
She jolted awake and came face-to-face with Ethan Yu—messy hair, drowsy expression, one arm thrown lazily over the blanket.
"You know," he said, voice gravelly with sleep, "if you're going to grope someone, at least buy them dinner first."
Hailey looked down in horror.
Her hand was still on his chest.
She yelped and yanked it back like she'd touched a hot stove. "What the hell are you doing here?!"
She scrambled upright, practically falling off the bed.
Ethan blinked sleepily. "Came back around noon."
"That's not what I meant! Why are you in my room? Why are you on my bed?!"
He stretched like a lazy cat. "Haven't had a proper rest in days. Worked overtime to get back early."
"Then go sleep in your own damn room!" Hailey marched over and started pushing at his shoulder. "Up! Out! This is my bed—my sanctuary! You don't get to just show up like this!"
But before she could land another shove, Ethan grabbed her wrist and tugged. Hard.
She stumbled forward—and landed squarely on top of him.
With one arm, he wrapped her against his chest. With the other, he pulled the blanket over them both.
"Hailey," he murmured with a dangerous smirk, "you do know it's rude to wake a sleeping man. People might think you're… eager."
She froze, cheeks turning red as a chili pepper. "You're insane."
"And you're cuddly," he replied, smug and still half-asleep.
"I should have you institutionalized!" she hissed, shoving off him with all her strength and tumbling out of bed.
She stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
From inside, Ethan let out a low chuckle.
Then he closed his eyes and sank deeper into the mattress.
Finally—finally—he could get some real sleep.
Downstairs in the living room, Grandpa Hai was sipping tea and watching a traditional opera performance on TV.
Hailey stomped down the stairs, still fuming. She threw herself onto the couch beside him.
"Grandpa," she said, trying to sound calm but clearly failing. "How could you let Ethan into my room? Into my bed?!"
Grandpa Hai glanced at her, barely hiding his amusement. "He's your husband. Why would I stop him?"
"I'm about to divorce him!"
"But you haven't yet."
Hailey groaned and flopped sideways onto the cushions like a dying seal.
"Fine. Whatever," she muttered. "But since he's here, let's talk divorce. We can settle it now—clean break, no drama. He already has the divorce papers, so let's get it over with."
Grandpa Hai took another sip of tea. "We'll see."
"We'll see?" Hailey narrowed her eyes. "That's not a no, but it's not a yes either. What does that mean?"
"It means," Grandpa Hai said, setting his cup down and turning to look at her with deliberate slowness, "you're not the only one involved in this marriage, young lady. If you want to end it, you'll have to do more than run away to your grandpa's house."
Hailey blinked.
"Then what am I supposed to do?"
"Talk to him. Not yell. Not argue. Talk."
Hailey opened her mouth to protest… and then sighed.
She knew her grandfather was right.
Sort of.
That didn't mean she had to like it.
And it certainly didn't mean she was giving up.
No way.
If Ethan Yu thought he could just snuggle his way out of this marriage, he was about to get a reality check.
Because Hailey Tang wasn't going down without a fight—pajamas, naps, and all.