Our Thirty-Year History of Cuckoldry - Part Ten: Reply 1988 (Part Four)

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After a nerve-wracking summer vacation, our future love nest was freshly painted and ready. In the clean, thirty-square-meter space, the walls were bright, pure white. Hanging on the walls was a watercolor painting of lotus flowers painted by Mei herself, and an oil painting reproduction of Cézanne's "Water Lilies" that I bought from the provincial capital (the lotus is Mei's favorite flower). Paired with pale pink curtains, it created a warm and cozy atmosphere.
In the room, by the window was a solid wood double bed, a wardrobe set, a desk (with a pale yellow lamp and a photo of Mei and me from our engagement), two chairs, a bookshelf, a TV cabinet, and a separate dressing table—all meticulously crafted by a carpenter friend I had asked. The home was equipped with appliances including a Weili washing machine, a Hitachi 17-inch color TV, a Yanwu dual-cassette recorder, and a Meiling Ariston refrigerator—basically the best newlyweds in the county town could have at the time.
Back then, most bungalows had heated kang beds, but I knew Mei didn't like them, so I specially asked the boiler operator from my father's workplace to install a radiator in the house and build a small boiler room in the yard, just so our little house could have warmth in winter.
I also dug a small bathtub in the kitchen floor so Mei could enjoy a bath at home, because I knew she liked cleanliness and tidiness.
The house and I quietly waited for the arrival of the mistress.
As the end of August approached, school was about to start, but Mei still hadn't returned. I still had more than two weeks of my vacation left. To thank my friends for their hard work, and also to pass the time, I treated them to drinks every night at the dance hall on the third floor of the county cultural center.
In the 1980s, the dance hall only had a dozen or so tables, a few shiny stage lights, playing pop songs and ballroom dance music, and the drinks were just so-called coffee made with sugar, but it was already quite avant-garde and trendy, attracting most young men and women.
One night, I saw the music teacher at the dance hall. She was wearing a white long dress, her black bra and panties clearly visible. She still had long hair and spent almost the entire evening dancing and flirting with different partners on the dance floor. I couldn't be bothered with her; when she saw me, she only gave me a polite smile.
As the dance hall was closing, my teacher sat down next to me. Without any hesitation, she took my coffee and drank a few sips, then looked at me with some concern and said, "This child, so honest." I knew she was going to bring up Mei. Before I could even speak, she added, "Xiao Mei graduated from a teacher's college; she wouldn't have any high school classmates."
Yes! I wanted to slap myself immediately. Mei was a vocational school graduate; she hadn't even gone to high school. I'm a university student, so I naturally assumed she had. That mistake was utterly ridiculous.
The teacher moved closer to me, gently touching my hand, and continued, "You're a good boy, and Mei isn't a bad girl, but you two aren't suitable for each other. You can't control her. If you go for her, you'll only bring trouble upon yourself in the future." As she spoke, her hand suddenly pressed against my penis, almost instantly giving me an erection. I knew the teacher meant that my sexual ability couldn't satisfy a normal woman's needs.
Just as I was about to say a few more words to the teacher, some of my buddies, having finished dancing, joined us. The teacher immediately started chatting enthusiastically with them. About an hour later, I was so caught up in my own anguish that I didn't pay attention to what was happening around me. Qiangzi only asked me for the keys to the new house when we left.
That night, after returning home, the torment in my heart felt like a knife twisting inside me. I couldn't even feel like masturbating. My mind was filled with Mei's beautiful face. Who was she with now? What was she doing? Could she still belong to me? Or rather, was I worthy of Mei being my wife?

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