After Divorce: Why My Aloof Ex Starts Chasing Me?-Chapter 65 Helping People to the End

The Jiang Family Courtyard had two stories; Shen Qingqing and Jiang Zhixun lived upstairs, while the elders stayed on the ground floor.

As soon as he carried the luggage upstairs, Jiang Zhixun noticed something was off.

Except for their marital bedroom, the other two rooms were conspicuously empty.

Previously, even unused rooms would at least have bed frames inside; when needed, one could just spread bedding and live there.

Now, there was nothing at all.

Realizing something, Jiang Zhixun hastily quickened his pace and opened the door to their marital bedroom.

The furniture in the room was intact.

On the double bed lay celebratory red bedding, with paired pillows—everything from their marriage setup.

The elders’ intentions were all too clear.

Jiang Zhixun’s expression grew awkward for a moment; if Shen Qingqing saw this, she would definitely get upset again.

But then he thought to himself, this wasn’t his doing—why should he feel guilty?

Mentally preparing himself, he set Qingqing’s luggage down and began organizing her belongings.

During the recent period when he was taking care of Shen Qingqing in the hospital, Jiang Zhixun had helped her with many things, inevitably leading to a bit of "intimate" contact.

Now, his movements while unpacking luggage were smooth and natural.

Opening the wardrobe, he saw his few clothes still neatly hanging inside.

Thanks to someone maintaining them, they weren’t dirty, yellowed, or moldy.

But none of Shen Qingqing’s clothes were there.

It was obvious—they had all been moved to her rental apartment.

Jiang Zhixun felt stifled.

Could it be that she had been contemplating divorce all along?

And the reason she hadn’t gone searching for him in the Northwest was because she hadn’t made up her mind entirely at the time...

From the moment his mother called to tell him that Shen Qingqing had moved out of the courtyard, a considerable amount of time had passed.

This length of time was more than enough for her to reach a decision.

She wasn’t suddenly acting on impulse to ask for a divorce.

That’s why she refused to listen to anyone...

Jiang Zhixun’s mood spiraled uncontrollably into a slump.

As he hung Shen Qingqing’s clothes in the wardrobe, they pressed tightly against his shirts.

The closeness of their clothes almost made it seem as if they were a normal couple bound by unity.

But reality was a stark contrast.

Thinking about how she might take him to the civil affairs bureau to finalize their divorce first thing tomorrow morning, Jiang Zhixun’s dejection worsened.

His whole body felt drained, yet he couldn’t pinpoint exactly where he was unwell.

.....

Downstairs.

Shen Qingqing’s injured hand prevented her from helping Madam Jiang, so she stayed in the living room to chat with Elder Jiang.

After five minutes, still no sign of Jiang Zhixun coming down, Shen Qingqing started feeling restless.

In the hospital, Jiang Zhixun would wash her clothes daily, and when she was discharged, he even packed her intimate garments piece by piece into her suitcase.

Thinking back on it now, Shen Qingqing still felt embarrassed.

He hadn’t come downstairs all this time; who knew if he was fiddling with her belongings? Shen Qingqing decided to go upstairs to check.

"Grandpa, I’ll come back down to keep you company in a bit."

Elder Jiang waved his hand. "Dinner will be ready soon; finish up quickly and come down."

"Okay."

Elder Jiang didn’t want his grandson and granddaughter-in-law to divorce either.

But since the kids hadn’t initiated the discussion, he preferred not to interfere.

Three years ago, Elder Jiang had a serious illness, and he’d come to terms with many things.

Whether or not his grandson got married, or carried on the family name, those were his own choices.

Too much interference by the elders was often met with rebellion, leading to shameful antics in the end.

Let the young couple decide for themselves, whether to stay together or to part ways.

Shen Qingqing was capable—leaving the Jiang Family wouldn’t mean she couldn’t support herself.

Then, it might be better to grant her freedom.

Let her live the life she yearns for.

As long as she didn’t become estranged from the Jiang Family and never set foot in the courtyard again, that would be enough.

Shen Qingqing went upstairs and heard sounds coming from the master bedroom.

She walked over to take a look; Jiang Zhixun was organizing their clothes, the suitcase wide open.

The solid-colored fabric in his hands looked very familiar.

Shen Qingqing’s eyelid twitched, and she hastened into the room.

Even though she had mentally prepared herself beforehand, her chest rose and fell sharply.

Lowering her voice, she demanded angrily, "Have I not told you, don’t touch my things?"

Jiang Zhixun had just been mulling over whether he should free up a box to specifically store her undergarments.

If left directly in the wardrobe, two searches would leave everything in disarray.

He hadn’t expected Shen Qingqing to suddenly come upstairs and immediately start berating him.

Unfazed, he retorted confidently, "When you help someone, you see it through to the end."

During her hospital stay, Shen Qingqing’s clothes—including her intimate wear—were all washed by him.

Initially, even he found it awkward, but after a few washes, he managed to convince himself.

He was still Shen Qingqing’s husband at the moment; she was ill, and as her spouse, it was his duty to take care of such things.

Prioritizing the patient was key—if he remained overly concerned about taboos, how could he take proper care of her?

Shen Qingqing was severely injured and couldn’t handle many tasks on her own.

During those bedridden days in the hospital, the nurses even reminded Jiang Zhixun about the importance of helping with her hygiene.

This included her private areas.

Shen Qingqing didn’t want Sister-in-law Wang assisting her, finding it mortifying.

She was even more unwilling to let Jiang Zhixun touch her.

Fortunately, her right hand was functional; every evening, Jiang Zhixun fetched warm water and wrung out a towel for her, allowing her to awkwardly clean herself.

Some things could be managed with one hand; others couldn’t.

During those days stuck in bed, she had the misfortune of also starting her period.

A single hand wasn’t enough for detailed tasks.

And with Sister-in-law Wang absent at night, the only person who could help her switch pads was Jiang Zhixun.

Whenever she recalled that incident, Shen Qingqing felt knots of embarrassment.

She had once heard people say that sickness strips you of dignity.

It was only after this fracture that Shen Qingqing truly understood what that meant.

During the time she lost her ability to care for herself, she struggled to maintain boundaries with Jiang Zhixun while still relying heavily on his aid.

For the first time, she felt that maybe developing amnesia had its advantages.

In time, perhaps she could entirely forget those awkward experiences.

The items in Jiang Zhixun’s hands were suddenly snatched away.

Shen Qingqing turned her back to him, opened a drawer, and stuffed her intimate garments inside.

Then she noticed her clothes hanging together with Jiang Zhixun’s in the wardrobe, finding it an eyesore.

With a single swipe, Shen Qingqing made sure a long gap now separated their garments.

Clear as day—drawing the line between their territories.

After finishing, Shen Qingqing felt something else wasn’t right, hurriedly stepping out of the master bedroom.

She quickly discovered that the two rooms next door had been emptied—even the bed frames removed.

Her expression shifted repeatedly before she managed to suppress the urge to walk out of the courtyard altogether.

She cast a cold glance at Jiang Zhixun and the small bag of belongings by his side. "This is my room. Take your stuff and leave."

Even with the impending divorce, Jiang Zhixun had no intention of sharing a room with her.

Even if he wanted to, Shen Qingqing certainly wouldn’t agree—she’d probably cause chaos in the house.

He wouldn’t stoop to doing something so shameless, even though they were technically still married.

Jiang Zhixun picked up his belongings, retrieving his clothes from the wardrobe, and moved to one of the adjacent rooms.

Earlier in the car, when he’d spoken recklessly, he had hurt Shen Qingqing with his words, something he now deeply regretted.

As he passed her, he paused briefly. "This has always been our home—five people, one family."

No matter whether they divorced or not, this was Shen Qingqing’s home.

She had every right to be angry.

And every right to meddle in his affairs.