Husband: You won't even answer my call? What are you so busy with? Are you really that busy at work? Sitting at your desk all day, either chatting or doing odd jobs—what's there to be busy about?
Husband: [Missed Call]
...
A dense stream of messages, all blame and complaints. This person, labeled "Husband," belittled Qi Sui's existence to a complete mess.
In her memory, Qian Jin had been like this too.
No, rather, he hadn't been like this from the start.
During college, Qian Jin's advisor was Qi Sui's mother. They met through this delicate connection. Qian Jin's unsolicited approach was mistaken by Qi Sui as affection, and his heartfelt confession was mistaken as true love.
Qi Sui hadn't been without doubts. But Qian Jin's sweet talk was too polished, and his actions were considerate and gentle. Even if she didn't have pure love for him, such a demeanor was enough to move an inexperienced young girl.
In Qi Sui's eyes was cold exhaustion.
She didn't want to respond to Qian Jin, nor did she want to have a big fight with him as before, only to trample on her own dignity. If he didn't love her, whether he liked men or women, he shouldn't have approached her arbitrarily. But now, this marriage had simply reached its most humiliating point.
She took a shower, dried her hair, and cleaned the house from top to bottom.
When wiping the wedding photo, she stared at the woman's smiling face for a long time before taking it down. Behind the photo were two expansion bolts driven into the wall. Qi Sui put in a lot of effort to remove them, but two ugly holes remained on the wall, impossible to patch evenly.
What bad luck.
She simply hid the wedding photo away, pressing it under the oldest clothes, not giving it another glance.
Qi Sui spent the entire weekend sleeping under the covers.
She didn't care about Qian Jin's tantrum, nor did she reply to the dozen messages belittling her. When Sunday night came, and the security door slammed shut, she slowly crawled out of bed, looking lazy, and stared at the angry, travel-worn man at the door.
His suit was soaked through by rain.
His hair had been styled but was now a bit comically messy.
His face was well-proportioned, the kind that looked refined and gentle at first glance. But now, his eyes seemed ready to spit fire.
"Qi-Sui!"
The man strode over quickly, grabbed Qi Sui's arm, and, as if furious, poured out one sentence after another:
"What do you mean?"
"You don't reply to messages, you don't pick me up, you even ignore my parents? Are you trying to rebel?"
"What kind of attitude is this? A woman who doesn't care about her husband or her in-laws—are you even a woman?"
"We've only been married this long, and you're already like this? Can you rest easy knowing your mother is in the grave?"
Qi Sui's gaze was icy.
Qian Jin could say anything, but he shouldn't have brought up her mother.
Qi Sui's father had died early, leaving her mother to raise her alone. But she hadn't lacked love because of a single-parent family. Her only mother had nurtured Qi Sui with love, letting her live carefree and worrying endlessly about her daughter.
Their wedding home was the last gift Qi Sui's mother had given her daughter before dying of a serious illness—selling her old courtyard. She had held Qi Sui and Qian Jin's hands while wearing a ventilator, telling them to live well together, and made Qian Jin swear to be good to Qi Sui for life.
But what about Qian Jin?
Who was this man before her, furious and utterly graceless?
Was this the same man who had wept with emotion and made vows by the hospital bed?
Sarcasm flickered in Qi Sui's eyes, as if she had completely torn off her facade.
"Are they my parents?"
Qian Jin was stunned, then burst into even greater rage:
"What do you mean by that? Aren't my parents your parents? Have they ever mistreated you all these years? They pitied you for not having parents!"
He shook his head, resorting to his usual trick: "You've disappointed me so much, Sui Sui. How could you become like this? Have I spoiled you too much?"
"The way you are now, I just can't accept—"
Qi Sui interrupted him impatiently:
"If you can't accept it, then get lost. If you can't accept it, get a divorce."
The man stared wide-eyed, stunned by her bluntness.
Qi Sui grabbed his collar and, before he could speak, questioned him in a demanding, unquestionable tone:
"Answer me first. Who is Xiang Yu?"
The woman's voice echoed clearly in the living room.
She was neither hysterical nor sobbing. She just asked calmly and composedly:
"Qian Jin, are you gay?"
"Do you like that male homewrecker so much? How about I let you two be together? Better than you pining after me every day."
"Sui... Sui Sui, what are you talking about..."
Qi Sui said,
"Qian Jin, do you know what you're doing?"
"Dirty, disgusting, and despicable. Qian Jin, you have really opened my eyes."