Three people crowded together -- 5 (repost)

page views:1 Publication date:2020-11-15

After the Mid-Autumn Festival, the number of barbecue stalls outside the neighborhood decreased sharply, probably due to the cold weather, especially on windy days.

Like Beijing, Yanjiao in late autumn has a deep, clear blue sky, with wisps of white clouds hanging lazily like silk scarves draped by fairies, or the soft breath of fragrant orchids, gentle and untouched by the complexities of the world.

Fang Lin left the shop early. It was Wednesday, and her son was still two days away from home. It would be better to confront Zhang Yizhang directly that evening, giving her two days to process her emotions before her son noticed anything amiss when he got home. Her tea shop was located downstairs in Tianyang City Phase III, some distance from her own neighborhood, Meilin Bay. After thinking for a moment, she picked up her phone, found a "black cab driver," and asked on WeChat: "Are you free? From Tianyang City Phase III to the north gate of Meilin Bay." "Thank you.

" "Send me your location, I'll be there in about ten minutes." The black cab driver replied instantly… clearly, with so many black cabs around, business must be slow.

About ten minutes later, the unlicensed taxi driver stopped downstairs, rolled down the window, and waved to Fang Lin.

"Pretty fast. Do you park your car at the entrance of Meilin Bay during the day too?"

"Oh, no, I work Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. There's a painting class near the art academy; I go to that."

"Ah, you're an art teacher?" Fang Lin asked in surprise.

"I studied for a few years, but it's not very useful. I'll never become a master; I'm just a craftsman, teaching kids, and driving around when I'm free. "

The unlicensed taxi driver gave Fang Lin a sense of open-mindedness and confidence, as if he were discussing life.

"That's good. You have a skill to rely on—no, it should be art." "You flatter me." "So, do you think someone my age can still learn to paint?" Fang Lin was a little afraid of the silence. She remembered how she used to draw various portraits of ladies in the margins of her textbooks when she was little, and she vaguely felt that she wasn't completely clueless about painting; perhaps she really did have a hidden passion for it. "Of course, but what do you want to learn?" "Sketching? Oil painting?" "Sketching is the foundation of painting. If you have a certain foundation, you can choose whichever you like." "Oh... I'll think about it and see if I have the time." "Well, the classes won't take up too much time, just two or three hours a week. You can practice at home in the evenings. The main thing is to calm your mind. No matter how noisy and restless the world is, we can find a personal space in colors and lines." Find her own space... Fang Lin silently repeated these words. She felt that she had been squeezed into two skins by life and by Zhang Yizhang's ambiguous or cheating affairs, her heart was empty, let alone space... If she had space, she would definitely store it full of her own emoticons, store all the moments of emotion and sorrow, talk to herself, persuade herself to reconcile with the outside world, without the interference of others. She was somewhat moved and said, "Then I'll consult you again on WeChat later." "Anytime." "Would I have the honor of seeing a few of your works?" "Ah... sure, I'll send you photos later, I hope you won't laugh." "You're too kind." Fang Lin got out of the car, waving goodbye to the black cab driver's gleaming white smile. Back home, she prepared the ingredients for dinner. She figured there would only be a verbal battle, and she wouldn't be in the mood for food, so she'd just make two simple dishes and have some juice. But maybe it would spill—splashed juice is better than spilled hot soup… She should put the cleaver away; chopping off her own head is as foolish as chopping off a man's penis… Fang Lin couldn't help but smile bitterly. One person can put on so much drama. No, no, no, don't get agitated, don't smash plates and bowls, don't whine like a wronged woman, don't try to kill yourself or threaten suicide! Conversation requires art, calmness, and a temporary detachment. Interrogating her husband about his infidelity required a good, gradual approach… Fang Lin held a cup of tea, sipping it as she pondered: How could she get him to be completely open and honest? How could she make him feel remorse while he spoke? How could she ensure he was determined to change his ways afterward? Deleting his contact information, swearing oaths? Ha, childish tricks, simple compromises under duress, couldn't touch his heart. If there was solid evidence, infidelity was either a one-time thing or a recurring pattern. How could she break this spell? Should she live with suspicion year after year? Should she distrust him and constantly monitor and test him? Should she live a life of endless testing and verification? You see, when trust is intact, everything is perfect, without any cracks to hide impurities, to allow for speculation and doubt… Once trust is broken, it's like a cracked mirror; looking at it again reveals many facets, uneven and fragmented. Each crack seems to have deep folds, concealing unseen darkness and secrets. Fang Lin's mind was a jumbled mess, yet she was desperately trying to find order. She accidentally emptied her cup, so she refilled it, determined to stay clear-headed. Zhang Yizhang definitely didn't want a divorce, to step into the grave of marriage again with (that woman as full as a moon?) Ya Ya. Therefore, pressing for the truth was a test of her own tolerance, which could be categorized into several levels: 1. They only chatted ambiguously—okay, acceptable; 2. They met, held hands, hugged—okay, acceptable; 3. They kissed—well, Fang Lin wouldn't kiss him again anyway, acceptable; 4. They not only kissed, but also engaged in ambiguous acts—touching, oral sex, but not penetration… barely acceptable; 5. They slept together… unacceptable, judging from Zhang Yizhang's behavior. Would any man be foolish enough to readily admit to sleeping with someone without evidence? 6. Not only slept together, but multiple times, exploring various positions, even orgasm, car sex, outdoors… even bringing it home? Sleeping in her own bed… well, that's probably the limit, unacceptable, because these shadows could be lifelong, inescapable, preventing her from engaging in the present, and making it impossible to continue living happily; seventh, they not only slept together, but also had children… that's probably impossible, of course, that's already beyond the limit. If it were, then wish them happiness and fulfillment, anyway, she'll have her own life. Okay, Fang Lin shrugged, feeling she was clear-headed, her bottom line inviolable, her last shred of dignity. As an independent woman, a marriage without love, or a marriage with too many flaws, if she endured it alone, would only mean licking her wounds alone over the long years, with the man's affairs none of her concern… This doesn't even include Zhang Yizhang's repeated changes. If he breaks off contact with the woman outside of marriage and then contacts her again, again and again, it's not just rubbing salt into the wound, it's tearing it open again, each time bleeding… So, she's just waiting for Zhang Yizhang to come home. Hopefully, she's just overthinking it, hope Zhang Yizhang can offer a reasonable explanation. Fang Lin thought. Zhang Yizhang returned home at a moderate pace. As soon as he entered, his smile and tone were normal. He asked, "What's for dinner? " "Are you hungry already?" "A little, I didn't eat well outside the company at noon." "Stir-fried rice, nothing special." "Okay, I'll go wash my hands first." "Then I'll cook, let's eat early." "Okay." Fang Lin saw Zhang Yizhang casually place his phone on the dining table and go to the bathroom. He must have told him not to contact him after work, otherwise, how could he dare to do this? Fang Lin sighed and turned to go into the kitchen to cook.

When the dishes were brought out, Zhang Yizhang was already sitting at the table drinking water. Fang Lin asked Zhang Yizhang to get some rice, and poured herself two glasses of orange juice.

They sat down facing each other.

Fang Lin looked at Zhang Yizhang's meticulously styled hair, at the long, elegant eyebrow at the tip of his left eyebrow, at the noticeable bags under his eyes when his eyelids drooped, at the rise and fall of his Adam's apple as he drank the orange juice, at the sound of him chewing his food, at the sound of his clear breathing… She was so close to Zhang Yizhang, yet so far away.

“Eat, what are you daydreaming about?” Zhang Yizhang looked up and asked.

“Um, nothing… it’s just, it’s just… who is Ya Ya?”

Having prepared many preambles, Fang Lin still went straight to the point. She pursed her lips seriously and coldly, waiting for Zhang Yizhang's answer.

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Three people crowded together -- 5 (repost)

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