[Husband's Diary] (End)

On July 18, 2015, a sunny day,

Nanwei had everything arranged and went to register our marriage.

My partner this time was a 30-year-old man. He looked good, especially in his white shirt; I was somewhat attracted to him. This eased my initial nervousness.

Nanwei, however, seemed less than satisfied with his partner, but since he had already paid, he reluctantly carried the woman with the exaggeratedly curly hair into the next room. I didn't like that woman either; she smiled flirtatiously, didn't glance at me, and didn't seem to care about her husband sitting next to me.

The man was very reserved; he sat next to me without moving for a long time. Actually, I wasn't particularly interested, so I sat quietly. My mind was filled with thoughts, like tomorrow's work meeting, what gift to give my mother for her birthday, and other small things.

The man next to me frowned. I thought perhaps he had been forced to come by his wife; he couldn't satisfy her, so he could only swallow his anger and watch his wife be intimate with another man's husband, while he dared not cross the line with this strange woman.

He looked so weak, and I couldn't help but feel sorry for him having such a domineering wife.

I ignored him; I was used to the noise from next door. I was incredibly sleepy, so I just lay down fully clothed.

Because I had to get to an early meeting the next day, I left without saying goodbye to Nanwei. I glanced at the man sleeping soundly on the sofa. It was the first time I'd seen such a lovely man, and I felt an urge to pity him, but it was only for a moment, and I quickly dismissed the thought.

On July 23, 2015, a cloudy and windy day

, Ouyang returned. He had gone to France before, and we hadn't exchanged any letters or phone calls for over two years. Yesterday, he suddenly called me, saying he wanted to see me.

Ouyang was a colleague from my former company. He was nearly 1.8 meters tall, a handsome and sunny man, the clean-cut type I liked. Ouyang and I were the closest in the company; we often went out to meet clients and discuss business together, and later we simply started calling each other brother and sister.

In a quiet teahouse on Qianyuan Avenue, Ouyang and I chatted casually, occasionally breaking into quiet, happy laughter, like old friends. We could even read a hint of unease in each other's seemingly calm faces; we both seemed to be anticipating something deep inside.

Ouyang casually asked if I'd heard of a group in the city known as the "Three Highs"—high education, high income, and high standards—who had spontaneously organized an informal club. Their motto was to advocate free sex; they satisfied their bodies without affecting their souls. They said we were friends, then had sex, but remained friends. Or, we had sex, exchanged sex, and that's how we became friends. I shook my head, feigning surprise, then nodded, seemingly understanding. Ouyang said he

wanted to take me there, mentioning he was already a member. I didn't agree, instead suggesting I bring my husband to Ouyang's house if we wanted to go. Ouyang was taken aback at first, then chuckled. At that moment, I realized my face was burning, and I picked up my tea and drank.

To be honest, since my encounter with Wei Qing, I suddenly found myself still looking forward to this new kind of marriage. After dinner, I told Nanwei about this idea. Nanwei brushed his teeth for a long time without reacting. After a long while, he spat out the toothpaste foam, smacked his lips, and said, "We can try it."

What a hypocrite. I cursed him inwardly.

With my careful arrangements, Ouyang brought his wife, Yu Juan, to my house that evening. At the dinner table, Nanwei kept glancing at Yu Juan sitting next to Ouyang. It was my first time meeting Yu Juan; she was a pretty girl, someone Nanwei should like.

Frankly, I had developed feelings for Ouyang two years ago. If I hadn't been pregnant then, I think I would have already cheated on him. After dinner, the usual commotion ensued. Ouyang, Nanwei, and I watched TV in the living room while Yujuan took a shower. Half an hour later, Ouyang and I went into the bedroom, while Nanwei and Yujuan went to the study.

Around dawn, Nanwei and Yujuan knocked and came in. Ouyang and I were still unclothed. They wanted to make love in our room and asked Ouyang to film it. I naturally said to Ouyang, "You three come on, I'll film you." Nanwei shook his head, telling me to watch them. They were very passionate and engrossed. Later, Ouyang suggested we do it too, saying we could record it together. So, the four of us did our own thing on one bed.

As I write this in my diary, the wind hasn't died down yet. A half-hidden moon peeks in through the window, and in this cool early morning, I feel like I'm seeing a pair of eyes watching me, so clear and bright. I'm deeply moved. I think my writing might disappear for a while because, clearly, I don't know what to say anymore. My diary entries are a mess; I'm exhausted, both physically and mentally. I hope my children, Nanwei, and my family will still love me, offer me a shoulder to lean on, and a chest to hold my tears.

I also hope that every night, or when the world is asleep, I will see a pair of clear eyes that belong only to me, gazing at me from afar, offering me limited comfort.

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