Marrying My Ex-Wife's Mortal Enemy (GL) - Chapter 23.1

Dou Changqing drove Dou Huan home to pick up Zhong Yunxin, and the three of them went to a Western restaurant known for its unique dishes.

While they were waiting for the steaks to arrive, Dou Changqing and Zhong Yunxin kept asking her how work was going and if there was anything they could help with.

Dou Huan did have something she wanted to ask for help with, though she didn’t mention that Zhao Xi had ulterior motives toward her. She just said she had accidentally caught Zhao Xi and Liu Xinxing having an affair and had been targeted since.

“If you’re not happy working at Jingtian, why don’t you just resign and come to our hotel to start learning management?” Dou Changqing said seriously. “The hotel is going to be yours one day anyway. The sooner you join, the easier it’ll be for you to take over later.”

“Daaaad~~~” Dou Huan said sweetly, “You’re still so young! Why would I need to take over anything now?”

That made Dou Huan think back to her past life—after her parents died in an accident, the hotel had been handed over to her second uncle, Dou Changsheng, to manage.

Who would have thought that Dou Changsheng, acting in his own self-interest, gradually siphoned away her parents’ assets until the hotel was just an empty shell?

At that time, Dou Huan had lost her parents, been abandoned by Chu Li, and had no one to rely on. Though she tried to fight for the hotel, she didn’t know the first thing about managing one. In the end, all she could do was watch helplessly as the hotel her father had poured half his life, collapsed.

The thought still brought a dull ache to her chest.

Now that Dou Changqing brought it up, she thought it might actually be a good idea to start learning hotel management early. But for now, she still wanted to pursue her own dreams.

She paused, then shifted the conversation naturally, with a soft smile, “How about this, Dad—give me one more year. Let me chase my dream first, and then I’ll come to the hotel. Sound good?”

A year wasn’t long. Dou Changqing was still young and could wait. He knew she wanted to be a jewelry designer, so he didn’t push it further, and turned the topic back to Zhao Xi.

“You want me to collect evidence of Zhao Xi’s affair?”

Dou Changqing looked at her calmly. “Huanhuan, tell me the truth—did he harass you?”

“Not even close. I mean, he tried,” Dou Huan laughed smugly. “But would your precious daughter be that easy to mess with? I just don’t like the guy and want to teach him a lesson.”

“You’ve really changed, ever since the whole thing with Chu Li,” Zhong Yunxin said, with a mix of relief and concern. “I know you don’t want us to worry, but still—if anything happens, don’t keep it from us, okay? You have to tell us.”

“I know,” Dou Huan smiled and held both their hands. “Don’t worry. If it’s something I can handle, I will. And if I can’t, you’ll be the first I come to.”

Zhong Yunxin smiled too. “That’s more like it.”

Halfway through dinner, a waiter wheeled out a large cake. Dou Huan naturally assumed her parents had arranged it and clapped her hands in delight. “Wow~!”

Zhong Yunxin glanced at the cake and turned to Dou Changqing. “Didn’t I ask you to order the fruit mousse cake? Why is this chocolate mousse?”

“I did order the fruit mousse one,” Dou Changqing frowned. “I even showed you the photo before I placed the order.”

“Then how come…?”

“Maybe the restaurant made a mistake.”

As they both tried to figure it out, the waiter interrupted, “Excuse me, sorry to bother you. This cake was actually sent over to Miss Dou by the lady over there.”

They followed his gaze—and there sat Chu Li, watching their family quietly.

When she saw them looking, Chu Li gave them a slightly nervous wave and a small smile.

Dou Huan ignored her, and Zhong Yunxin didn’t acknowledge her either. Chu Li awkwardly lowered her hand.

“Thank you,” Dou Huan told the waiter, “but we don’t want this cake. Please bring out the one we bought.”

The waiter replied, “I can have this one packed up for you.”

“No need,” Dou Huan smiled. “Please return it to that lady and let her know—I don’t want to argue with her on my birthday.”

The waiter blinked, nodded, and wheeled the cake back to Chu Li, delivering the message. Chu Li gave a bitter smile. “Thanks. Just leave it here.”

She looked across the room at Dou Huan, who was laughing and talking with her parents, her smile bright and genuine.

She remembered Dou Huan’s past birthdays—how Dou Huan always waited to celebrate with her, how she used to chatter happily over dinner while Chu Li listened and smiled.

They hadn’t always talked much, but those simple moments of joy had been unforgettable.

It was just… she never truly appreciated them at the time.

Earlier that afternoon, she had waited at the agreed spot for Dou Huan all through lunch. Even though she suspected Dou Huan wouldn’t show, she couldn’t bring herself to give up.

While waiting, she finally understood what Dou Huan must’ve felt back then—hope mixed with anxiety, turning into helpless disappointment when the wait went on too long.

Dou Huan had loved her, done so much for her, but she’d never taken any of it seriously. Now every memory felt like a dagger.

Looking back, everything seemed to be her fault. She’d trampled Dou Huan’s love, worn it down until it scattered like sand in the wind.

Now even trying to be kind was an intrusion.

After the divorce, she was the only one left struggling. Dou Huan had already moved on, started a new life and she didn’t need Chu Li anymore.

That realization finally sank in. Chu Li gave a hollow smile. She dipped her finger into the frosting where it said “Huanhuan” and tasted it. Sweet—and unbearably bitter.

Maybe letting go was the best love she could offer now.
But… she just couldn’t bring herself to do it.

Looking toward Dou Huan, she smiled sadly.
“Huanhuan, happy birthday.”

******

After watching a movie with her parents, Dou Huan returned home close to ten. Her phone showed several missed calls from Qi Yue, and a bunch of cheerful birthday messages full of her usual chaotic energy.

Dou Huan couldn’t help but laugh as she scrolled through. She called Qi Yue back.

“You home yet?” Qi Yue asked.

“I’m driving over to your place right now—wait for me!”

Before Dou Huan could say anything, Qi Yue hung up.

Puzzled but amused, Dou Huan went downstairs to wait.

Aunt Chen saw her standing at the door looking around. “Huanhuan, are you expecting someone this late?”

“A friend. She said she’s coming over.”

“Oh…” Aunt Chen assumed it might be Chu Li but didn’t ask, simply standing beside her to wait.

Qi Yue’s car soon pulled up. She jumped out carrying several shopping bags and sprinted toward her.

“Huanhuan! Happy birthday!”

Dou Huan burst out laughing at the sight of her. “If you trip and fall flat on your face, that’ll be the real gift.”

“As if! It’s not New Year’s yet,” Qi Yue joked, handing over the bags. “Got you some birthday gifts! I didn’t know what you needed, so I just picked a bunch of stuff.”

Glancing inside, Dou Huan saw they were all cosmetics. She handed them to Aunt Chen and asked, “You just finished work? Did you eat?”

“Yeah,” Qi Yue said as she followed her in and changed her shoes. “My boss went nuts today and made me work overtime.”

“Then you’re staying here tonight. It’s too late to drive back.”

“That was my plan.”

Upstairs, they chatted in Dou Huan’s room. Dou Huan lay on the bed scrolling on her phone while Qi Yue sang in the shower.

After a while, Aunt Chen knocked and brought in a bowl of noodles. “I just found out today’s your birthday. I made you longevity noodles. Have a bite, okay?”

The moment felt familiar. Dou Huan recalled her last birthday in her previous life—her parents were gone and Chu Li was ignoring her. She’d waited in vain, come home alone, and Aunt Chen had handed her a similar bowl with a smile: “Miss, I made you some longevity noodles. Try a bite.”

Her heart warmed at the memory. She took the bowl and started eating.

Even though Aunt Chen knew she’d already had dinner, she’d only cooked a small portion. Normally Dou Huan didn’t eat late, but this time, she finished every last bite.

“If you liked it,” Aunt Chen beamed, “I’ll make more tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” Dou Huan smiled. “Thank you, Aunt Chen.”

Back in bed, Dou Huan edited her post for social media. She had originally drafted a long, sentimental caption but in the end deleted it all and simply wrote:

“Feeling happy, feeling lucky. Let’s keep it that way.”

She attached a few photos: a family portrait, the cake Jing Yu had sent, the makeup gifts from Qi Yue, and Aunt Chen’s bowl of noodles.

That night, she and Qi Yue lay in bed, reminiscing—from college days to marrying Chu Li, from the wedding to everything that followed, reliving their entire youth.

Though there were regrets, this new life gave her loving parents, caring friends, and a future filled with people worth meeting.

She realized she couldn’t keep living in the past, tied to Chu Li.

It was time to move on—to explore new scenery, meet new people, and start fresh.

“I’ve made up my mind,” she said. “From twenty-four onward, it’s a brand-new beginning.”

Qi Yue raised a fist. “Let’s do it!”

“Let’s do it.”

They both laughed happily.

The price of staying up all night talking was waking up the next day like zombies. Dou Huan walked into the office barely awake and nearly passed out on her desk.

But the nap didn’t happen. She was shaken awake by Zhou Wei.

“Huanhuan! Wake up! Something’s happened! ”

Zhou Wei shoved her phone in Dou Huan’s face. “Someone sent me this email—with a picture of you hugging a man—and this disgusting little story.”

Dou Huan glanced at the photo. It was indeed her, and the man was her father. The story was written in first person, supposedly from the perspective of Dou Changqing’s wife, accusing Dou Huan of being a homewrecker.

It described a stereotypical tale of a scumbag husband seduced by a beautiful younger woman, cheating on his devoted housewife. “I,” the narrator, endured everything in silence—until she couldn’t anymore and decided to expose them.

The writing was emotional enough to stir public outrage.

Everyone recognized the girl in the photo as Dou Huan, but no one noticed the story never mentioned the man’s name—or even his surname. He was simply called “my husband” or “that bastard.”

As coworkers began casting judgmental looks, Dou Huan knew Zhou Wei wasn’t the only one who’d received the email. Most likely, the entire company had.

And the only people here who disliked her enough to do this were Liu Xinxing and Zhao Xi. Judging by the tone, it was likely written by a woman.

Dou Huan strongly suspected Liu Xinxing, but she kept her cool—didn’t speak, didn’t explain, and let the misunderstanding fester.

“What’s going on?” Zhou Wei was practically frantic.

“Do you know who that is?”

Dou Huan whispered, “Dou Changqing. My dad.”

“What?!”

Realization hit Zhou Wei like a brick. “So this whole thing’s just a big misunderstanding?”

“Not a misunderstanding,” Dou Huan said, glancing at Liu Xinxing, “Someone’s deliberately trying to ruin my reputation.”

“So… what now?” Zhou Wei was still panicking. “You have to clear this up! Everyone’s gossiping in the group chat!”

“No rush.”

Dou Huan took Zhou Wei’s phone and checked the company group chat.

Just as she thought—almost everyone had received the email. And those who hadn’t were now busy tracking it down to read.

The drama was spreading like wildfire, and no one was trying to put it out.

Meanwhile, Jing Yu was reading the same email at her desk, her face gradually darkening. She summoned Jiang Shan to her office.

“Do we have Zhao Xi’s cheating evidence ready yet?”

“Almost,” Jiang Shan hesitated, then added, “It seems Miss Dou has also arranged for someone to investigate Zhao Xi.”

“Really now?”

Jing Yu’s expression finally eased a little. After a moment of thought, she said, “If it really was someone from Dou Huan’s side who got the info you gathered and leaked it to her, I’d love to see how she plans to fight back.”

“You mean… that slanderous email about Miss Dou was Zhao Xi’s doing?”

“A man like Zhao Xi couldn’t come up with something so low,” Jing Yu said coldly. “It’s probably that dumb woman he’s been keeping on the side.”

Jiang Shan immediately understood and nodded. “I’ll take care of it right away.”

“One more thing,” Jing Yu pointed at the computer. “Have the company delete those pointless emails and ban gossiping at work.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jiang Shan replied respectfully.

Using work disruption as an excuse, she sent a message to each department: delete the email and cut the gossip. But with so many women in the company, banning gossip was wishful thinking.

Everyone looked like they were hard at work, but behind the scenes, the group chat was blowing up. Some were swooning over the man’s good looks. Others sneered, “Dou Huan’s so pretty—why on earth would she be someone’s mistress?”

A few even said if they had her face, they’d rather become influencers than be a third party in someone else’s relationship.

The conversation quickly veered off-track. By the end, it devolved into a debate over how only good-looking women qualified to be mistresses—ugly ones couldn’t even make the cut.

That, naturally, led to an all-out argument.