“Did I wake you?” Wen Tingyan sat by the bed, backlit as he looked at her.
She felt momentarily dazed.
Wen Tingyan then stood up and said, “Aren’t you going to get up and prepare my clothes?”
She rolled over. “Find them yourself. I’m still sleepy.”
“It’s been two days. Two days without you picking out clothes for me. Mrs. Wen, you’re neglecting your duties,” he said from behind her.
She turned back to get up, only to find him already standing perfectly dressed before the bed.
“Wen Tingyan, you…” She didn’t know what to say.
But Wen Tingyan tightened his tie. “Alright, no more anger. I’ll come back early tonight so you won’t have to wait.”
What Wen Tingyan might not know was that she no longer waited for him the way she used to…
“Say something?” Not hearing her response as usual, he pressed.
“Okay,” she replied flatly.
“That’s more like it.” Finally satisfied, he added, “We’re having guests over for dinner tonight. Be cheerful, don’t let people think Mrs. Wen is angry with Mr. Wen.”
So this was why…
The reason he had to coax her into a good mood was to avoid losing face when guests visited.
“Who’s coming for dinner?” She was quite puzzled. In five years of marriage, they had never hosted guests at home.
“You’ll find out tonight.” He played mysterious. “It’s a surprise for you.”
She couldn’t imagine what surprise he could possibly give her. Remembering what he said last night about not being able to visit her parents for dinner, perhaps he had invited them over?
She didn’t ask further, only hoping Wen Tingyan would leave quickly, and that the housekeeper would soon go out too—the watch collector was coming soon.
At ten o’clock, the housekeeper left on time.
At ten past ten, the luxury goods recycler called. Jian Zhi invited her upstairs.
It was a fashionably dressed young woman named Wei An on WeChat.
Professional and efficient.
The items were quickly authenticated, and the payment was transferred.
The girl remarked with a sigh, “If it weren’t for your purchase receipts and records, I really wouldn’t dare take these.”
Jian Zhi understood.
It wasn’t about authenticity—but who in their right mind buys ten identical watches?
Any secondhand dealer would suspect they were stolen goods.
“Alright, I’ll take them. Contact me anytime if you have more items to sell—bags, jewelry, anything goes.” The girl packed the watches into a large bag.
“Okay, thank you. I appreciate it.” Jian Zhi’s phone had already received the transfer notification. No matter when, having money in hand brought peace of mind. If all these gifts from Wen Tingyan could be converted into cash, at least they served some purpose.
After seeing Wei An off, she opened her phone and deleted the bank notification.
Her account already held a considerable sum.
It had to be said—though Wen Tingyan had no heart in this marriage, he was extremely generous with money. Over these five years, with few expenses, she had saved enough to study abroad.
She opened a new notebook, flipped it open, and wrote: Countdown to Leaving Wen Tingyan – Day 30. Decluttering—disposing of gifts.
Then, she began preparing the documents needed for her visa.
Since it was for a group performance tour, she printed the relevant materials and, along with her passport, sent them via courier to Teacher Zhao.
The day flew by again.
In the evening, thinking she would browse a few more posts before resting, she unexpectedly found Luo Yucheng’s new post pushed to her homepage by the algorithm.
She looked at the photo—it showed Luo Yucheng sitting in a supermarket shopping cart.
The person pushing the cart wasn’t fully captured, only a pair of hands and the sleeves of their clothes were visible.
But that was enough.
Those hands unmistakably belonged to Wen Tingyan.
She had picked out all his clothes herself, and she recognized the cufflinks instantly. She had disliked the original ones for being unattractive and had specially custom-made a unique pair for him—one of a kind.
Luo Yucheng had captioned the photo: “The happiest thing in the world is that, after weathering countless storms, someone still treats you like a baby. Thank you for still being here, my prince.”
So this was the surprise Wen Tingyan had prepared.
What a surprise indeed…
The only time she had ever gone grocery shopping with Wen Tingyan was shortly after they got married.
Wen Tingyan had finally had a weekend free at home, and she had been eager to create a warm, domestic atmosphere, so she invited him to the supermarket.
Back then, she had genuinely dreamed of a happy marriage—sharing three meals a day through the seasons, shopping together, returning home together, enjoying drinks under the sunset, greeting every dawn and dusk together…
Unfortunately, it remained just a beautiful dream.
During their one and only trip to the supermarket, they ran into an acquaintance of his—she couldn’t tell if it was an elder or someone else—who called out his name. His first reaction was to immediately distance himself from her.
The acquaintance casually asked, “A Yan, shopping at the supermarket?”
His reply was: “Yes, just browsing alone.”
Just browsing alone…
That sentence became yet another needle piercing through her marriage.
At that moment, she stood there alone, pushing a cart filled to the brim, while he walked further and further away, chatting with that acquaintance.
If she hadn’t been blocking someone’s path and been reminded to move aside, she didn’t know how long she would have stood there, trying to digest the sting of that needle.
But as she hurriedly moved the cart aside, still unaccustomed to her limp, she lost her balance and fell, taking the shopping cart down with her.
The pain was so intense she couldn’t get up. It was a little child and her mother who helped her—righting the shopping cart and picking up each item one by one to put them back.
The child took her soft little hand and tried to pull her up, saying in a gentle voice, “Sister, don’t cry. Baby will blow on it to make it better.”
By the time she finally steadied herself with their help, she had used every ounce of strength to hold back her tears.
When Wen Tingyan came back to find her, she acted as if nothing had happened.
After that, she never went to the supermarket with him again.
Another bubble of her idealized happy marriage had been pricked by a needle.
With each burst bubble, another needle embedded itself in her flesh. It took her a long time to adapt to it, accommodate it, and bury it in a place where it could rest quietly, hurting a little less.
Looking again at the photo of someone being treated like a baby in a shopping cart, Jian Zhi felt the familiar sensation of swallowing needles return, like a fishbone stuck in her throat—unable to go up or down.
Luo Yucheng had posted this note half an hour ago, but there were already many comments.
Curious, she clicked to take a look—surprisingly, most of them were critical.
“How old are you? Have you no shame?”
“Those shoes are so dirty. Other people still need to use the cart for food—just thinking about it is disgusting.”
“Does she think she’s being cute? Oh my god, keep your PDA at home, please.”
A rare consensus in the comments section.
Just then, Jian Zhi heard her own door open, followed by a burst of commotion.
A great many people had arrived, and the loudest voice among them was Luo Yucheng’s.
“Wow! A Yan! This sofa! This huge window! This dining table! This lamp! This carpet! They’re absolutely gorgeous!”
“A Yan, you actually remembered the interior design style we discussed for our future home! You’ve turned it into your own home? A Yan!”
“This space is truly enormous! A Yan, I told you back then that a Large Flat would be amazing! You insisted a villa was better! See? Isn’t the Large Flat better?”