An Incomplete Divorce (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 2
The ship departing from Lemont arrived at its destination in ten hours. It was around the time the setting sun began to dye the sea entirely crimson.
The reddish twilight, vibrant bustle, and a jumbled cacophony of voices—this was the vista of Britte Kingdom’s capital unfolding before Olivia and Anne standing on deck.
“Look, Anne. It’s Ritten!”
Olivia shouted, pressing down firmly on the brim of her bonnet fluttering in the sea breeze with both hands. Anne turned her gaze toward the direction pointed by Olivia’s slender finger.
In the distance, Ritten’s famed landmark—the grand clock tower—gleamed brightly under its dazzling illumination and came instantly into view.
Olivia drank in the approaching city with eyes brimming with mingled anticipation and curiosity.
Her heart raced. Olivia’s gaze deepened as she looked down upon this unknown world.
The moment she thought she had died, she opened her eyes—and found herself in another world. The setting of an utterly ordinary romance fantasy novel she’d once absentmindedly read.
There, she’d become Olivia Blanchet: the lowly, illegitimate daughter of a count’s adulterous affair, and the nominal wife of the noble Duke Johann Leopold.
Ji-an remembered that woman’s name.
A woman blinded by jealousy. Pitiful and foolish.
In the original story, Olivia Blanchet’s love had failed—she had never once been loved—and clinging stubbornly to a twisted emotion that couldn’t even be called affection, she met her ruin.
“Defendant Olivia Blanchet is sentenced to death for attempted murder of Clara Sinclair and conspiracy to murder Diane Brook and Matilda Fairbanks.”
Thus, she resolved:
This time, she would survive.
Olivia stared at the city bathed in sunset and gripped the trunk handle firmly.
Good fortune in this second life.
Passengers disembarked from the ship once preparations were complete.
After finishing immigration procedures at the entry checkpoint, luggage porters swarmed them like a cloud of bees.
A boy wearing a newsboy cap darted nimbly toward Olivia and Anne, snatching their travel bags as if fishing them from the air.
“This way, milady.”
The two hurried after the swiftly disappearing boy.
Since the carriage stand was a bit distant from the dock, Olivia and Anne arrived breathless and flushed.
“Then, have a pleasant journey! One penny, please.”
The boy chirped brightly with a clear, cheerful voice.
“Thank you. May you have a lovely day as well.”
Olivia smiled sweetly, her cheeks pink, and pressed two bills into the boy’s open palm.
“You gave one extra.”
The boy lifted his sweat-beaded forehead and held out the penny again.
“There were two bags.”
Only then did the boy grin shyly, carefully fold the bill, tuck it into his inner shirt pocket, and dash spiritedly back into the crowd.
When the porter boy vanished from sight, Olivia turned her gaze toward the coachman, unaware that Anne’s eyes had widened in astonishment.
“Will we depart right away?”
Olivia asked the coachman.
“We leave once we’re full.”
As the coachman placed their bags in the rear compartment and spoke indifferently, Olivia made a proposal.
“How much would it cost to hire the entire carriage? I’ll pay you double. I’m tired and wish to reach the hotel quickly to rest.”
The coachman readily agreed at Olivia’s gentle smile and opened the carriage door for her.
“Where shall I take you?”
“Please take us to the Lancelot Hotel.”
The carriage soon set off, and Anne silently gazed at Olivia seated across from her.
Her lady still stared out the window with the same entranced expression she’d worn on deck.
Even as Ritten’s harbor, glowing in the fading sun’s light, slowly receded into the distance, she didn’t tear her eyes away.
Anne knew her lady had never once handled money herself.
Confined within the count’s manor, she’d had no need for coin, and after marrying Duke Johann Leopold, the duke’s appointed secretary had always paid merchants with checks for all her expenses.
Thus, her lady’s natural demeanor just now had utterly astonished Anne.
Paying the porter boy, bargaining with the coachman—these acts felt so foreign to who her lady had been.
Yet Anne felt both reassured and anxious at this profoundly human, ordinary behavior—because it reminded her of the saying that people change just before they die.
Anne quickly shook her head to dispel the ominous thought.
[This is the timeline separator]
Exhausted from their journey, the two barely finished dinner before preparing for bed.
Anne carefully combed Olivia’s thick brown hair after she changed into nightclothes, gathering it neatly into a single braid.
Olivia burrowed into the cozy blankets. After finishing her evening prayers, Anne lay down beside her.
“Sleep well, Anne.”
Olivia’s voice was already hazy with sleep.
“May you have sweet dreams, milady.”
Anne whispered softly.
Once, her own mother—formerly the head maid of the Blanchet household—would have fainted at the sight, but since her mother wasn’t here, she decided not to worry.
Ever since her miraculous survival after falling into the lake, her lady had nightmares on rainy days. Each time Anne rushed in upon hearing her cries, she’d find her soaked in cold sweat.
“Anne, will you sleep with me?”
The plea from her pale face had been so desperate Anne couldn’t possibly refuse. Thus, the two drifted to sleep in the same bed.
How long had they slept? A warm breeze, laden with the scent of dawn and the garden’s floral perfume drifting through their open window, brushed against Olivia’s cheek and slowly woke her.
In the silence, as if the world itself were asleep, Olivia quietly rose and walked toward the window. Morning stars twinkled against a sky as clear as diluted cerulean paint.
This sky, no different from the one in her former world, stretched endlessly—perhaps even connecting to the world where Han Ji-an had lived.
“I wonder if he’s safe?”
The face of the man who’d ruffled Ji-an’s hair with his large hand and smiled affectionately surfaced in her mind, filling her with overwhelming longing.
“Milady?”
Startled by Anne’s voice from behind, Olivia reflexively turned around. Anne, hastily sitting up, was staring at her.
“I’m sorry—I woke you.”
“No, I always rise at this hour anyway. Was it because of me that you couldn’t sleep comfortably? I can sleep on the floor.”
“It’s not your fault, Anne. The breeze was just so lovely—it woke me. Come look?”
Olivia smiled with her eyes and beckoned before turning back to the window. Anne smoothed her tousled hair, slipped on her slippers, and stood beside her lady.
“I really love this time of day—and also sunset. It feels like admiring the most dreamlike landscape painting in the world. Look, isn’t it beautiful?”
Where the scarlet glow of gas lamps met the blue of dawn, the boundary blurred as the sun’s crimson light—likely beginning from the very harbor where they’d disembarked—began painting the world anew.
“It truly is… breathtaking.”
For a while, neither moved from the window.
[This is the timeline separator]Johann Leopold, who had recently acquired a steel company, sat in his office chair, lighting a cigar and scanning the acquisition contract with an irritated gaze.
Though he’d secured the deal at a fair price, one meddling shark had stirred the waters, forcing him to pay ten thousand pounds over his planned amount.
In other words, Johann was now thoroughly annoyed—and his aide, Maurice, who stood before him to deliver a report, was in an extremely awkward position.
Maurice took a deep breath inwardly before parting his lips.
“Regarding Duchess Olivia Leopold—ahem. Correction: a report on Miss Olivia Blanchet.”
Meeting Johann’s sharp stare—eyes wide while his head remained buried in documents—Maurice coughed dryly a few times before forcing out the next words.
“Miss Blanchet is currently…”
He couldn’t bring himself to finish.
“Currently doing what.”
Johann’s low, gravelly tone and the look that plainly said “just say it and get out” made Maurice set the photograph he held onto the desk and swiftly step back.
Johann picked it up and instantly grasped the situation.
In the sharply printed photo, two women walked into a building—the one clearly his former wife, yet something else seized Johann’s attention entirely.
Maurice stammered under the fierce glare Johann shot him after abruptly lifting his head.
“As you can see… she’s staying at the… Lancelot Hotel.”
“Here?”
“Yes, precisely.”
Silence settled after Maurice’s reply.
After a few seconds, Johann’s gaze slowly returned to the photograph. He sighed faintly and swept his hair back out of habit, his eyes drifting into space before closing.
Was she deliberately provoking him from afar now that she couldn’t do it nearby? Otherwise, among countless hotels in this tourist city, why choose—
Of all places, why Edgar Lancaster Lancelot’s hotel?
Ah! So that was it.
Clear displeasure etched itself onto Johann’s otherwise impassive face.
Here was the answer to why she’d come to Britte, a country where she had no connections.
Edgar.
Already irritated by that man’s interference with the steel company acquisition, the last thing he needed was his ex-wife joining forces with him. His mood sank into utter misery.
How had Edgar even learned of this acquisition, which Johann had pursued in absolute secrecy?
Of course, Johann knew Edgar kept his own eyes and ears nearby—just as Johann had placed spies around him.
But that Olivia Blanchet might be one of them? That was entirely unforeseen.
Since when?
The ash from the cigar he’d forgotten to tap fell abruptly onto the desk. Once the seed of suspicion took root, its branches spread uncontrollably.
Like father, like daughter—was that it?
Johann opened his eyes.
“Monitor their every move thoroughly.”
With a dismissive glance, he waved Maurice away and studied the photograph.
Olivia.
He realized he might have granted the divorce too easily. Sending his wife away should have been handled more carefully and deliberately.
When a woman who once claimed life held no meaning without his love suddenly asked for divorce, there must have been something more to it.
Johann felt compelled to reflect on what that might be—and what he’d overlooked.
[This is the timeline separator]Morning dawned on the third day at the Lancelot Hotel.
Olivia and Anne lazed in bed until hunger drove them downstairs to the first-floor cafeteria for a late breakfast that doubled as lunch.
Anne sometimes quietly worried that such peaceful days might turn her into a lazy bear.
But whenever their extravagantly arranged three-tiered tray arrived at their table, she’d set aside her worries and pick up her fork instead.
Following Anne’s lead, Olivia also took up her cutlery with enthusiasm.
Now she had to live her life in this unfamiliar world—not as herself, but as Olivia Blanchet.
Though her future remained undefined and uncertain, she resolved to consider things slowly.
For now, at least, she had stepped out from under Johann Leopold’s shadow.
That fact alone brought her deep satisfaction.
Spring strawberries, plump and luscious, crowned the desserts generously spread across their plates, filling the air with sweetness.
“How ever did you find such a wonderful place, milady?”
On the ship, Olivia had carefully studied the tourist guidebook for visitors exploring Ritten.
Just as she dipped a large strawberry into whipped cream and was about to pop it into her mouth, she laughed and replied,
“They say the fraisier here is the best in Ritten.”
Olivia grinned brightly, popped the strawberry in, and chewed with delight.
At that moment, to Anne, her lady looked the happiest person in the world. Anne scooped up a spoonful of strawberry pudding herself—sweetness flooded her mouth instantly.
Watching her lady’s unchanged fondness for sugary treats, Anne thought thankfully: at least one thing hadn’t changed.
After thoroughly demolishing the tray and tidying the table, they sipped coffee and honey-sweetened milk tea.
It was a peaceful afternoon: lazy spring sunlight filtered through the windows over the soft piano melody drifting from the phonograph.
The once-empty cafeteria gradually filled with guests coming for post-lunch tea.
At that moment, a group of noblewomen entered. One, deep in discussion about ballgowns for the Rose Ball, suddenly gasped aloud.
“Oh my! Isn’t that her over there—the Duchess Leopold!”
All eyes turned instantly toward the direction her fan pointed. By the sunlit floor-to-ceiling window sat a woman, laughing with her maid over tea.
“Good heavens!”
There was no mistaking it—it was indeed Olivia Blanchet.
Male lead is reincarnated to save his wife
I’ve also read this one twice already. The female lead is kinda soft and gets embarrassed easily—not really my type, but the plot is definitely worth reading. Hurry up and read it, y’all!
Intro
When Shen Yuan encountered Su Jin again in his previous life, she had already become the Prime Minister of the current dynasty. As for him, the former top young master of the capital, he had long since fallen into the abyss, becoming a singer on a pleasure boat.
After a song ended, he was redeemed and sent to the Su Residence.
Su Jin respected and cherished him, gave him a roof over his head, and bestowed him with warmth. Shen Yuan fell deeper and deeper, but before he could express his feelings, Su Jin passed away.
Shen Yuan died to follow her in death, but instead, he returned to when he was fifteen years old.
At that time, he was not yet engaged, and Su Jin was just a poor scholar.
Shen Yuan gritted his teeth, casting aside all his pride, and thought of ways to coax and entice her every day.
The colder and more indifferent Su Jin was towards him, the more proactive Shen Yuan became.
He was not afraid of being mocked by the world, only wanting to marry his Wife-master early, to hold her hand and never let go for a lifetime.
[Note: This story will not specifically point out the male lead’s reincarnation time point; it’s all in the details. Whenever you feel that the male lead is acting strangely, he has most likely been reincarnated.]
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This story deserves more hype. People should know more about this.
Sounds like someone is planning to make a misunderstanding between our couple
Here we go again, poor Olivia always getting hurt by men