Wife's Desire 2 - The Path of a Pure Married Woman's Discipline

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Chapter 2
"Or maybe it's just a coincidence, Yan isn't that kind of person!" I tried to comfort myself, but even I felt that such an explanation was so weak and powerless.
Sitting at my desk, my mind was a jumbled mess, as if something was stuck in my throat. Jiajia ran in, arms outstretched, begging for a hug, her bright eyes blinking and pleading for my affection. Her eyes were so much like Yan's, as if they could speak, beautiful and clear, with a hint of pride and mischief.
A tender spot in my heart was touched by my daughter's expression. I picked her up, placed her on my lap, straightened the crooked red flower on her head, and kissed her soft cheek. Jiajia proudly waved the musical caterpillar toy she had just bought yesterday in front of me: "Jiajia's..."
My heart suddenly skipped a beat. I held her shoulders and asked earnestly, "Jiajia, tell Daddy, has any uncle come to our house?"
The little one clearly didn't understand my intention, continuing to play with her toy, ignoring my question. I continued, "Did... a tall, bald uncle come by?"
Jiajia looked at me blankly, repeating the words I said, "Tall... um, uncle..."
I stared intently at her little face, hoping to find the answer, but my daughter's attention returned to the toy in her hands, and she didn't say anything more.
I was a little disappointed, and a pang of guilt welled up inside me: I was suspecting my wife! Yan wasn't a promiscuous woman; she was the kind of person who would blush at the mere mention of a swear word, and even in bed with her closest confidant, her husband, she was a staunch conservative. She always lay obediently beneath me, letting me take the lead throughout the entire process. Asking her to change positions was always a fuss, let alone oral sex or anything like that...
How could that bald man possibly be related to Yan! He looked so lewd, and besides, Yan wasn't a vain, materialistic woman. She never cared about money; she didn't even have the concept of money in her mind. For a woman who admired Eileen Chang and Yi Shu, elegance was always her goal. To associate her with infidelity was an insult to her!
Don't think about it anymore, it's all just a coincidence. I'm worrying unnecessarily. I stood up from the chair, holding Jiajia, ready to go to the living room for dinner. Today we have my favorite shrimp and cashew stir-fry. Just then, Jiajia murmured in my arms, "Uncle... Mommy, Mommy... Hug Uncle... Mommy hug Jiajia..."
I froze at the desk as if I'd been electrocuted, a wave of dizziness washing over me, all the blood rushing to my head. I could hardly believe my daughter's words. It was true! The impossible had suddenly become a reality. My beloved wife, whom I considered a goddess, might really have cheated on me...
My mind went blank, as if my body had vanished.
I don't know how long I stood there, but then I heard Yan's voice from the living room: "What are you two doing? Come and eat! Jiajia, Jiajia..."
Her voice was still gentle and docile, as kind as ever, without the slightest hint of anything amiss. But my heart ached as if it were being stabbed with a knife: she was still hiding it, and how well she was hiding it!
Yan was still calling. I walked out numbly. Yan came over and took Jiajia away. The instant my daughter left my body, I was suddenly gripped by fear, and my hands trembled uncontrollably. I didn't know what I was afraid of, but the immense fear even overwhelmed my anger. A sentence stuck in my throat, and I couldn't utter it. Words swirled and intertwined in my mind: infidelity…betrayal…adulterer…divorce…but I couldn't form a complete sentence. My lips trembled too. I
watched as Yan held Jiajia in her arms and spooned shrimp to feed her. Jiajia, like me, had a special fondness for shrimp. After feeding her a few bites, Yan noticed I was still standing there and gave me a strange look: "What's wrong? You look terrible. Are you feeling unwell?"
She was still so considerate and thoughtful, so understanding! But I couldn't tell if there was any ulterior motive in her words, or how much sincerity she had! In an instant, my vision blurred, and tears almost welled up in my eyes. I immediately rubbed my face with my hands to hide the tears welling up in my eyes, and said in a suppressed voice, "No, let's eat."
I couldn't taste the food during the entire meal; the delicious food tasted like wax in my mouth. That question kept swirling on my lips, almost slipping out several times: Why did you betray me? Why did you cheat on me? In the end, I didn't ask it.
I suddenly realized how cowardly I was at that moment. Yan's personality is extremely stubborn, with an inherent pride. She's not good at lying, and she dislikes lying even more. If all of this were true, I was afraid she would readily admit it.
Given her personality, even if she was wrong, she wouldn't stoop to begging for forgiveness. She's the kind of person who goes down a path to the bitter end, and even if she's wrong, she'll walk down it without looking back.
Yan clearly noticed the change in my emotions.
After dinner, and after Jiajia fell asleep, she took a shower and changed into a sexy nightgown. She turned around in front of the bed and asked me, "Is it pretty? This dress is awful, it shows all my chest! Look..."
This was her most blatant declaration of love; for her, this was the limit of her self-respect.
The sheer nightgown had a lace cutout in the middle, and she wasn't wearing a bra underneath. Her firm, full breasts were faintly visible, pushing the fabric high. But I felt no excitement at all. Instead, a sense of unease kept pounding in my chest: "Maybe when I'm not home, she's dressed like this too, standing in front of another man for him to admire. No, not only that, maybe there's something even more disgusting..." I pounded my head, trying to stop myself from imagining those filthy scenes, but my heart ached like it was being stabbed with needles.
Yan nestled closer to me uneasily, touching my forehead. "What's wrong?"
I irritably brushed her hand away. "Nothing, I'm just a little tired."
My eyes fell on her legs, exposed after her pajamas were lifted, and a chill ran down my spine. There was another obvious bruise on her smooth, pinkish-white thighs. No doubt about it; for a doctor, these were common sense—marks from forceful kisses or pinching, which would be even more noticeable by tomorrow morning.
Yan quickly pulled her legs back under her bra, saying in a light tone, "I'm not attractive to you anymore. I was going to treat you after you'd been gone so long, but now you're making excuses to avoid me! Don't blame me for being unreasonable; tomorrow when you want to, I won't."
Perhaps due to her upbringing, Yan's understanding of sex was somewhat conservative. She always treated sex as a reward for me, never admitting that she wanted to have sex with me, even when I could clearly sense her need. She subconsciously viewed this as unclean and shameful, as if admitting it meant admitting her own lewdness.
The night was deep and quiet; the bedroom was utterly silent. Yan was fast asleep, curled up like a cat with her back to me, her full buttocks displaying a remarkably smooth and beautiful line. I lay there, eyes wide open, unable to sleep. Since returning, all the signs clearly told me: Yan was in trouble; she might have another man! I even guessed who that man was. Recalling his lewd appearance sent chills down my spine—what a disgusting old man! I
don't know how much time passed; my neck was aching, but I still couldn't sleep. I got out of bed and washed my face in the bathroom. The cold water cleared my head somewhat, but I was still confused and disoriented.
I didn't understand why Yan would seek out such a man; I didn't know how they got together. The thought of the word "get together" made my heart ache again, as if the blood in my body had suddenly frozen.
A person sat alone on the sofa in the living room in the darkness. A laptop was charging on the coffee table, its indicator light flashing. This was a birthday gift I bought for Yan last year—a top-of-the-line Sony VGN-G218 at the time. Yan rarely went online; when she did, it was only to search for clothing and jewelry information. She spent most of her time on skincare and makeup.
I placed my hand on the laptop; the smooth texture was like Yan's skin—cool and delicate. A thought suddenly occurred to me: perhaps there were clues about Yan inside—maybe her diary, maybe her chat logs with someone. This thought made my hand tremble involuntarily. I almost didn't have the courage to open it; I wasn't calm enough to face it all.
The computer was finally turned on. QQ was set to log in automatically. After logging in, no one was online in my friends list. Not many people had been added, and I knew almost all of them. The chat log ended at 10:27 PM on June 21st, the day before I returned. The content was ordinary, some trivial daily chatter and discussions about cosmetics prices. The casual chat history showed the women's boredom, with no suspicious signs whatsoever.
I closed QQ and checked almost all the documents but found not a single clue. Undeterred, I reopened the QQ login client, hovered the mouse over the login bar, and saw two numbers. I clicked the lower number and logged in.
Her signature was "Qing'er," and she had only added one person whose signature was "Xi Yangjing" (a pseudonym). Opening the chat history, there were only two lines of dialogue: Xi Yangjing: "I'm coming down now."
Qing'er: "No, my daughter isn't asleep yet, let's do it another day!"
Date: 2:14 AM
, 2008/6/22. These two simple sentences clearly reminded me that this was a declaration of infidelity. My scalp tingled. This was an hour before I got home. Obviously, that man had come down! The figure I saw downstairs wasn't my imagination; it was this man called "Xi Yangjing."
What had they done in the past hour? I can hardly believe it. My daughter is still here; how could Yan do such a thing in front of her! Recalling the scene in the bathroom with Yan while I was showering, I touched her, and the feeling between her legs—it was clear she wasn't wearing underwear!
My whole body is trembling uncontrollably: What happened to Yan? Where is my noble, elegant, and unwaveringly loyal wife? Why has everything changed so suddenly in just one month?
I have an urge to go to the bedroom, grab Yan, and confront her: What has she been doing all this past month? Who is that man? Why did she betray me? Why did she betray the love we've so painstakingly built? But I'm stiff, unable to do anything but tremble. Along with anger comes immense fear; my heart is filled with nothing but despair. Yan has never lied to me before, but her first act of deception is so cruel, enough to utterly shatter me.
I swore to love Yan for life, I swore to never let her suffer even the slightest harm, we promised to stay together forever, we promised to defend our love. Where have all those promises gone?
I suddenly had a strong urge to go out; I felt like I was suffocating if I stayed here any longer.
I drove aimlessly through the streets. It was 3:27 PM. The streets were deserted; the shadows of the lampposts were rolled over one by one, left far behind. I rolled down the window to let in the cool breeze, but my body still felt hot and restless. I was going crazy! I wanted to drive into a wall.
That night, I did something crazy: I drove to Hangzhou late at night to see a friend I hadn't seen in years. I called him out, chatted for only ten minutes, and then said goodbye, leaving him speechless with surprise. It was a 320-kilometer round trip, and I got home before 6 PM.
My daughter was still asleep, but Yan wasn't in bed; she was probably out buying breakfast. I hadn't noticed her at the breakfast shop near the entrance; I usually buy it myself. Today, I was completely distracted and forgot about it.
I changed my clothes and went straight to work, perhaps trying to escape. I didn't know how to face Yan. I needed to calm down and use this day to sort out my thoughts and figure out what had happened.
The elevator wasn't crowded; it wasn't rush hour yet. I leaned against the handrail, staring blankly at the numbers on the display. Just then, my phone rang. It was my friend from Hangzhou. I answered, and his voice was anxious: "Liang, what happened? Tell me honestly, or I'll rush over! We've been friends for years. I know your personality; you wouldn't be this distraught unless something really serious happened! Tell me. Since you came to see me, it means you trust me as a friend. Tell me, maybe there's something I can do to help." I was speechless.
I didn't know how to tell him, or perhaps I couldn't bring myself to say it. But a warm feeling welled up inside me. I suppressed my emotions and said, "It's okay, don't worry, I… I'll handle it…"
My eyes fell on the security camera above the elevator, and I suddenly remembered what I'd seen in my daughter's mirror in the elevator that day. My heart ached, and I lost control of my emotions. I choked back a sob and finally burst into tears.
The elevator stopped on the first floor. My vision was blurry, and I didn't even notice my friend's soft words of comfort on the other end of the phone. I felt weak all over, struggling to control myself and prevent a louder sob from escaping my throat.
I rubbed my eyes and noticed a woman in white standing in front of me. She looked somewhat familiar, but I couldn't place her. She seemed startled by me, keeping a distance from me uneasily, though her eyes kept glancing at me. Only then did I realize the elevator was already ascending. I felt ashamed of my loss of composure, nodded apologetically to her, and turned away. I didn't want anyone to see me so weak.
The elevator stopped on the thirteenth floor, and the woman practically ran out. At the same time, two workers blocked the closing elevator doors, carrying various odds and ends into the elevator. The air immediately filled with a strong smell of paint, making me nauseous. I hate that smell. I hung up the phone and quickly went to press the button for the elevator opposite.
The elevator was slow to arrive, stuck on the twelfth floor. I headed towards the fire exit to go down to the twelfth floor.
Just as I pushed open the stairwell door, a voice reached my ears: "I'm not kidding, really! Stop grinning like that, or I'll get angry!"
I froze on the stairs, my heart leaping into my throat. Yes, it was Yan's voice. From her rapid speech, I could tell she was anxious and panicked, as if she were asking someone for help.
A man's voice said, "Look how scared you are. Don't be guilty, men are usually careless, they won't notice that easily! It's all in your head, trust me, everything will be fine."
I almost immediately knew that the man was Tong. It was Yan and Tong talking! At that moment, I couldn't express my feelings. All my guesses had become stark reality: my wife was cheating on me! My Yan was asking her lover for help!
I covered my mouth with my hand, took a few steps forward, and on the stairwell leading to the fourteenth floor, two people's lower bodies were exposed.
Yan was leaning against the stair railing in her pajamas and slippers, clearly in a hurry; she never usually went out in just slippers and pajamas. Two steps below her, a man stood wearing baggy capri shorts, his thick calves covered in dense, bushy hair. He was very close to Yan, almost pressed against her, one hand gripping the railing, the other on her buttocks.
Yan was trying to push his hand away, saying, "Stop it, I'm talking to you about something serious. I found out he went out early this morning and hasn't come back yet. He looked at my computer, I wonder if he found something! And he didn't seem right yesterday either."
Tong asked, "What did you leave on your computer?"
"I deleted everything before, only those two sentences from that day."
"Which day?"
"You... don't touch it! It's the message you sent me when you came down that day."
"That's okay, even if he saw it, he can't be sure of anything, at most he'll just suspect something!"
"No! I can't let him suspect anything, I've already let him down so badly..."
Yan's voice was trembling with tears, "For the time being, you... don't look for me."
Tong's hand still slipped through Yan's arm and landed on her buttocks, slowly caressing them, "You know how much I love you! I'll miss you so much, we're so compatible together, don't you want that?"
His hand moved down her buttocks little by little, groping down her full, slender thighs.
Yan's hands had given up resisting, and she awkwardly twisted her legs, letting that hand caress her thighs. "Really, no, listen to me, if they find out, my whole family will be ruined, ah..."
Tong's hand had already lifted the hem of her nightgown, and his large palm moved upwards along the inside of her snow-white thigh.
Yan's scream turned into a muffled groan from her nose, clearly because Tong had kissed her. That hand continued upwards, reaching between her legs, and the hem of her nightgown was also pulled up, almost exposing half of Yan's thigh. From my position, I could clearly see Yan's entire buttocks. She twisted her waist, as if trying to get rid of Tong's hand, but the twisting was very small, and Tong's palm covered her crotch, rubbing against her pink panties.
Yan made heavy nasal sounds, "Mmm...mmm..."
Her fair hand gripped Tong's wrist, the contrast between her white skin and Tong's dark, rough skin stark. She didn't exert any force, showing no intention of pushing Tong away.
The soft sounds of their kissing echoed in the hallway, like needles pricking my heart.

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