“Pain again?” The man propped himself up on one elbow, raising an eyebrow.
Outside, rain poured in sheets. Only a warm yellow lamp lit the bedroom.
Jiang Shi turned her face away, looking at her wrist that had been gripped red, and blinked numbly. “Mm.”
This routine had been going on for two years.
Cheng Jili lived in the study year-round, only coming to her during her monthly ovulation window.
And then it was like tonight.
No foreplay, no post-coital tenderness.
She wasn’t made of bronze or iron—how could it not hurt?
She used to think she just wasn’t feminine enough, so she’d specifically asked her best friend for a few videos to study.
But no matter how elaborately she tried, Cheng Jili was like a robot without feelings, doing the thing that should be most passionate with the most perfunctory attitude.
Gradually, she couldn’t even be bothered to act anymore.
It was meaningless. You can’t force this kind of thing.
Cheng Jili hadn’t had his fill, but he still got off her.
He gave a light scoff. “So delicate. Weren’t you the one who calculated the dates and told me to come?”
“…” Jiang Shi pulled down her nightgown and got up to turn on the overhead light. “Your mother’s been pushing again. I don’t think we’re going to conceive. Maybe we should—”
“I’ll talk to her,” the man cut her off. “I’ll tell her it’s my problem. You don’t need to worry about it.”
Watching that tall, straight figure walk into the bathroom without even a backward glance, Jiang Shi smiled wryly to herself.
Did he think she was going to say “let’s go to the hospital for a check-up”?
No.
What she wanted to say was “let’s get a divorce.”
But Cheng Jili didn’t even have the patience to hear that sentence out.
The bathroom door went from closed to open in over an hour.
Jiang Shi couldn’t understand what took him so long to wash. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she was practically dozing off.
When Cheng Jili came out, his brow furrowed. “Playing at keeping vigil with me?”
He wore only a towel around his waist.
His chest muscles were full and firm, and prominent veins ran down his lean abdomen, disappearing into the edge of the towel.
Wild and sensual.
Only at times like this did Jiang Shi get a clear look at his body.
Because every time they did the routine, Cheng Jili only turned on a very dim lamp, like a thief, making her think for a while that her figure was too awful and turned him off.
Seeing that cold, pale-skinned seducer walk into the walk-in closet, Jiang Shi followed.
“I have something to discuss with you.”
The closet wasn’t exactly tidy. Jiang Shi’s things were strewn everywhere—she’d never been good at organizing.
Cheng Jili folded two carelessly placed lace bras, opened a drawer, sorted them in by color, then took out a white textured shirt from the back layer and unhurriedly put it on.
His tone was casual. “We’ll talk when I get back.”
Jiang Shi’s eyes darkened. “Going out this late? To see Cheng Xiaoxiao?”
“Xiaoxiao’s having a birthday party tonight. I have to go.” Cheng Jili glanced at her indifferently. “As her sister-in-law, you didn’t prepare a gift?”
Jiang Shi had indeed received Cheng Xiaoxiao’s invitation, but she knew no one really welcomed her there. Besides, what kind of sister-in-law was she?
“I prepared one. It’s a smart model, even,” she said, crossing her arms and lifting her chin. “It can wash and dress itself, drive itself over, and if necessary, sing and dance too.”
“…” Cheng Jili let out an impatient breath. “Enough. I’ll be back after the candles are blown out.”
He dressed quickly—a black suit, no tie, hair slicked back in a four-six part with gel. Dressed up like a decent man.
Dressed up like a decent man, going to celebrate another woman’s birthday.
The door slammed shut.
Before long, a black Cullinan drove out from the garage downstairs and gradually disappeared into the rainy night.
Jiang Shi stood blankly by the window, her heart sinking with a familiar ache.
She didn’t know how much time had passed when her phone ringtone broke the silence.
She wiped her eyes haphazardly, picked up the phone from the nightstand, and opened WeChat.
Su Ye sent a voice message, the background noise as chaotic as a wet market. “Hey, my dear, what are you doing? Your husband gave Cheng Xiaoxiao a bag worth over a million as a birthday gift—did you know?”
Jiang Shi replied, “Oh, I know now.”
Su Ye called immediately. “Oh? What do you mean ‘oh’? You didn’t see how smug Cheng Xiaoxiao was! Carrying that new bag around the whole venue, afraid no one would notice!”
“And a bunch of people were egging her on—anyone who didn’t know better would think they’re a couple!”
She took a breath and spat out a curse. “Is Cheng Jili asking for death? I’ve got a temper too, you know! My glass is already full of wine—one splash and I’ll hit the mark. Just say the word!”
Jiang Shi looked up and watched the rain outside growing heavier, her voice calm. “No need. Don’t waste the wine.”
It wasn’t the first time, anyway.
When Cheng Xiaoxiao graduated from university, he gave her a car. Last year on her birthday, he gave her a diamond wristwatch.
Even when Cheng Xiaoxiao had her heart broken, he had a black swan delivered to comfort her.
What was a bag worth over a million?
Yet for her, his wife, the man probably didn’t even remember her birthday.
Su Ye was going crazy on the other end. “Baby, what’s wrong with you? You can tolerate this? How long are you going to keep enduring?”
Jiang Shi said, “Until the two of them grow old together with children and grandchildren around them.”
“…” Su Ye was speechless. “Your magnanimity doesn’t need to be that vast.”
Jiang Shi slowly walked to the door and opened it. “Yezi, I’m tired. I want to sleep.”
Su Ye sighed. “Fine. Out of sight, out of mind. Get some rest. That bastard Cheng will get what’s coming to him!”
Jiang Shi hung up and drifted downstairs to the bar like a ghost, pouring herself a small glass of red wine.
Her gaze swept across the vast villa, her chest hollow and uneasy.
When her parents were still alive, she never understood what loneliness and despair meant. No matter how sad things got, a good cry in her family’s arms made everything better.
Later, when her parents were gone, there was still her grandfather. He would prepare her favorite pastries and wait for her at home.
But now, she had nothing.
Even Cheng Jili was about to be lost to her.
No—Cheng Jili had never belonged to her.
In the empty house, loneliness seeped from every corner, like water slowly rising over her mouth and nose, swallowing her bit by bit.
Jiang Shi didn’t remember when she went back to the bedroom. She only felt that she had many dreams.
All about Cheng Jili.
The clearest one was the winter when she was sixteen.
A yacht capsizing at sea took her parents. She survived by luck but lost a segment of her little finger.
After coming to Jingbei with her grandfather, she always hid that hand, not wanting anyone to see it.
Then one day, Cheng Jili tossed her a pair of cashmere gloves—pale pink, with a ring of white rabbit fur at the cuffs.
He grinned mischievously and said, “A whole winter is enough for you to accept that little bit of uniqueness about yourself, right?”
Jiang Shi put on the gloves and discovered that the left little finger was stuffed with a small ball of cotton…
She slept in a daze, and through the haze heard someone open the door and come in, rustling about for quite a while.
Cheng Jili was back?
Come to get his pajamas.
He wasn’t staying the night here.
The pillow was wet in one spot. She shifted to another spot, planning to get up and make things clear, but her head felt too heavy—she couldn’t even be bothered to lift it.
Until suddenly the space beside her sank.
The corner of the blanket on the other side was lifted.
A familiar warm breath slipped in.