Divorced and Determined: The CEO’s Ex-Wife Fights for Love

The little one struggled forward, holding a large cardboard box, wobbling on her tiny legs like a tottering snake.

Seeing this, Lu Qin bent down to steady the box and chuckled softly.

“Yao Yao, just do what you can manage. Let Daddy handle this big box.”

“Daddy, did I buy too many toys? It’s so heavy,” she huffed, furrowing her little brows in concentration.

Lu Qin smiled warmly.

“So, will you still buy so many toys next time?”

“I’ll only buy the ones I really like. If I just like them, I won’t buy them,” she replied, her big, watery eyes blinking earnestly. “But Daddy, let Yao Yao move her own things. You said we should do our tasks ourselves whenever we can.”

She was so sensible for her age. Knowing the large box was too heavy for her, she smartly switched to smaller boxes, dividing the toys and moving them one by one into her room. Father and daughter worked together for over an hour, organizing and tidying up. After washing up, they finally sank into the sofa to rest.

In their old neighborhood, there was a farmer’s market just 500 meters away. That evening, Lu Qin made a quick trip to buy some simple ingredients for dinner. Meanwhile, Lu Xiyao sat in the living room, engrossed in her favorite cartoon, Dora the Explorer. Though the TV wasn’t as large as their previous one, it didn’t seem to dampen her enthusiasm.

The first skill Lu Qin had won from the system’s lottery was [Max-Level Stir-Fried Noodles], and with it came an incredible boost in his cooking prowess. His technique had advanced so much that even cutting vegetables or flipping a pan had become an art. What used to be just basic competence had now turned into mastery.

For dinner, he whipped up a simple yet hearty meal—braised pork ribs, scrambled eggs with tomatoes, and stir-fried greens. Just enough for two, and perfectly portioned.

As soon as the dishes hit the table, the rich, savory aroma wafted into the living room. Lu Xiyao’s little nose twitched. She immediately turned off the TV and rushed over, eyes wide with excitement.

“Wow! Daddy, it smells amazing! Yao Yao is hungry!” she exclaimed, bouncing on her toes, forgetting she had already eaten a whole apple while watching her show.

“Daddy, today’s dinner smells even better than usual!”

Her big eyes sparkled as she gazed longingly at the glossy braised pork ribs, practically drooling.

“Go wash your hands, then we can eat.”

Lu Qin reminded her gently.

“Okay!” She replied, dashing off to the bathroom.

She dragged a small stool over to the sink and stood on it to reach the faucet, her little hands carefully scrubbing under the water. Lu Qin had raised her well—she could wash her face, brush her teeth, and even tie her shoes all on her own.

When she returned, Lu Qin had already served her a small bowl of rice and a tender piece of pork rib.

“Daddy, let’s eat!” she said, clumsily trying to maneuver the chopsticks.

The moment she took a bite, her face lit up with pure joy. The soft, savory pork practically melted in her mouth, and she couldn’t help but bob her head in delight, her feet swinging happily under the table.

“Eat slowly, or your tummy will hurt,” Lu Qin said, smiling as he took a bite of the scrambled eggs with tomatoes.

His eyes widened in surprise. As expected from the system’s max-level cooking skill, even something as simple as scrambled eggs had been elevated to a whole new level. The eggs were perfectly tender yet firm, while the tomatoes were bursting with sweetness and freshness. The flavors melded together in a way that left a lingering satisfaction after every bite.

In no time, the three dishes were wiped clean by the father and daughter. Lu Qin polished off two big bowls of rice, while Yao Yao happily finished her two small ones.

Afterward, they both leaned back in their chairs, too full to move. Yao Yao rubbed her little belly contentedly, though there was still a hint of longing in her eyes.

“Daddy, can you make this again tomorrow? It was so yummy today!”

“Of course,” Lu Qin said with a smile, patting her on the head before getting up to clean the dishes.

Ever helpful, Yao Yao insisted on joining in. But soon enough, her sleeves were soaked, and after using too much dish soap, the sink was overflowing with bubbles.

“Hehe,” she giggled, amused by the chaos she had caused.

Lu Qin couldn’t help but laugh too, gently tapping the tip of her nose.

“You little troublemaker.”

The kitchen was filled with the warmth of love and laughter.

…

At 8:30 in the evening, Jiang City was a vibrant sea of lights, bustling with life as the night came alive. Shen Muyan, exhausted from her long day, parked her car in the garage and took the elevator up to her villa. After a quick face scan to unlock the door, she stepped inside. The house was dark and eerily quiet.

For a moment, she wondered if she had walked into the wrong home. In the past, no matter how late she returned, Lu Qin would always leave a light on for her, with a warm cup of lemon water waiting on the table. But tonight, there was only silence.

Shen Muyan hesitated, then changed into something more comfortable, grabbed a bottle of mineral water from the fridge, and sank into the plush leather sofa. She closed her eyes, seeking a moment of peace.

You’re back?

Yao Yao’s already asleep. Are you hungry? I can make you some noodles.

Lu Qin’s gentle voice echoed in her mind. Startled, she opened her eyes. The spacious living room was empty. The warmth of his presence was nothing more than a memory, and an inexplicable wave of frustration welled up inside her.

Needing a distraction, she picked up her phone and dialed a number.

“Fang Ya, are you free? I’ll treat you to dinner.”

A groggy voice answered, “No, I’m busy… Wait, what? Treat me to dinner? Do you even realize what time it is?”

“I just got home from work. I haven’t eaten yet,” Shen Muyan replied, her tone carrying a hint of complaint, as if to say, Do you think it’s easy working myself to death every day?

Fang Ya sighed on the other end.

“Can’t you take better care of yourself? How do you even forget to eat?”

Fang Ya, a food blogger with millions of followers and regular features in gourmet magazines, was in the middle of writing an article when Shen Muyan called. She was used to her friend’s habit of neglecting meals, so she resigned herself to joining her for a late dinner, treating it more like a midnight snack.

The two of them ended up in a narrow, lively alley lined with street vendors. Shen Muyan wrinkled her nose in mild disgust as she wiped down their table, clearly uncomfortable in the less-than-spotless environment. Fang Ya couldn’t help but laugh.

“Ms. CEO, the best food is often found in these little, rundown alleys, trust me.”

Shen Muyan still frowned, skeptical of the hygiene, though she knew Fang Ya’s recommendations were never wrong. She trusted that the taste would be good, even if the surroundings left much to be desired.

Before long, the food arrived. Fang Ya eagerly picked up her chopsticks and dug in, her face lighting up with delight at the flavors. Shen Muyan hesitated for a moment, then followed suit. The moment the stir-fried liver and sautéed tripe hit her tongue, her expression changed—her eyes widened in surprise. The taste was unexpectedly amazing, even though the dishes didn’t look all that appealing.

Fang Ya grinned triumphantly, watching her notoriously picky friend enjoy the meal.

“So, Ms. CEO, how’s it taste? Was I right?”

“Very good,” Shen Muyan admitted, nodding in approval. Then she turned to the owner, asking if they had more dishes like the ones on their table. She was already imagining how great it would be to recruit such a skilled chef for her hotel’s kitchen.

But after some inquiries, her hopes were dashed. The small shop specialized in only a few offal dishes, and the rest of the menu was just average. She was disappointed and abandoned the idea—her hotel guests couldn’t live on stir-fried liver and sautéed tripe alone.

Fang Ya chuckled, shaking her head.

“It’s this late, and you’re still thinking about work? Can’t you just enjoy the meal for once?”

Shen Muyan sighed.

“You’re a top food blogger with tons of connections. Can’t you help me find a good chef?”

Fang Ya shot her a look.

“You’re looking for someone with banquet-level skills. The only person I know who fits the bill is Old Master Mai from Jiang City, but he’s retired. Are you really going to ask him to come work for your hotel?”

Shen Muyan sighed again, leaning back as Fang Ya popped the last piece of tripe into her mouth, savoring the moment.

…