Synopsis
In my rush to get home for some exercise with my six-foot-two husband and his six-pack, I accidentally packed the film crew's prop divorce papers. My husband found them. He went rigid. "Who's the man?" With the hairdryer running, I thought he'd asked who the male lead was. "Yan Zheng, of course." The famously aloof, ascetic award-winning actor. That very day, my usually insatiable husband transformed into a pillar of restraint. He rejected every advance—even dodged my fingertips. Furious, I snapped, "If you're not interested, let's get divorced!" He panicked, tore off his gold-rimmed glasses and caught me. "I've spent all this time trying to be like him, and you still want to leave... Looks like I'll have to remind you my own way who your husband is."