Authentic, nuanced, and touching [Reprint] My wife and I's story, let me tell you slowly (Part 1)

I've read articles on some traditional websites describing men's outbursts of anger after their wives cheated on them. But that's not what I want to talk about today. Instead, I want to discuss a completely opposite reaction: on some adult websites, there are many articles by men describing their wives' infidelity, often portrayed in a beautiful and romantic way, as if it were something wonderful. I can't completely deny the authenticity of these articles, but there's too much fiction involved. Some are even fabricated by unmarried men. Because one thing I'm certain of: no man feels excited upon first hearing the news of his wife's infidelity. Any man, even if he has a mistress or multiple lovers, will only feel anger and humiliation if he learns of it without sufficient psychological preparation. Whether he accepts or even supports his wife's infidelity later is a matter for the future, and the transition from initial anger to acceptance usually involves a long period of psychological torment.

I'm a man married for over ten years. Like many men, I love my wife very much, but at the same time, I can't control the colorful temptations outside and often have affairs. —Let me clarify, I never visit prostitutes. It's not that I look down on prostitutes, but I just feel they are too dirty. Due to my work, I often come into contact with some very outstanding women. All men have this one flaw: even if you let him marry a beauty like Diao Chan, he'll eventually get tired of her. Therefore, men neglect their wives and set their sights on women other than their wives, creating many lonely women in the world. Actually, it's an interesting vicious cycle: men neglect their wives and focus their attention on other men's wives. The result? Their own wives also become targets for other men's advances. To put it nicely, it's called karma; to put it bluntly, it's retribution.

At this point, I need to clarify that what I'm describing is not a romantic affair. I'm simply trying to honestly share some of my experiences and emotional journey as a man married for nearly twelve years, hoping to offer some inspiration, reflection, or lessons to others who, like me, have been confined to the "walled city" of marriage. Family is always a man's final haven, and his wife is always the closest woman to him and should be the most cherished. Arguments aren't scary, estrangement isn't scary, and infidelity isn't scary either, as long as you have the courage to face them head-on. Experiencing setbacks is okay; experiences are actually a form of wealth. Some setbacks or hardships might even benefit you for life. As men, we have an undeniable responsibility to cherish the woman who accompanies us through life.

Not long after graduating from university, I met my wife. She worked at a bank, just an ordinary teller at the time, a vocational school affiliated with the bank. She already had a boyfriend of one year, a senior from her class. He was ambitious and, after working for a few years, took the entrance exam for a full-time vocational college, returning to school. I seized the opportunity and stole him away.

My wife was a year younger than me, slender and tall, sexy and charming, with bright, innocent eyes. During that time, I felt like I was living in a honey pot, even waking up smiling in my dreams. During our courtship, I repeatedly tried to seduce her, but she always firmly refused. Young people in their early twenties today might not understand this, but more than ten years ago, sex was a rather serious topic. Therefore, I didn't truly possess her until our wedding night. Gazing at the radiant, peach-blossom-like virgin blood on the white sheets, my wife, in my eyes, surpassed even a pure angel. Actually, I've never had a deep obsession with virginity. Moreover, premarital sex wasn't very common in those days, so everything seemed perfectly natural to me.

Like all newlyweds, we didn't miss any opportunity to be intimate. Not only did we make love two or three times a night, but sometimes even during the day at home, a single glance could ignite a spark, and we'd immediately undress and roll around naked together. During that period, I was severely exhausted, yet still full of energy. The most outrageous time was when, after our passion, I fell asleep without immediately getting off her. She didn't want to move me, and I ended up sleeping on top of her for over five hours. —Now, recalling this, I feel as if I owe my wife a lifetime of unpayable devotion.

A year later, we had a child, a lovely daughter. After having a child, most of my energy shifted to her. The passion between my husband and I gradually faded. During this time, I had an affair with my college classmate. This story isn't unusual; the probability of infidelity between classmates is the highest. I went to her city on a business trip, and we drank a lot together. Then she came to my hotel with me, and we chatted for a while, but there wasn't much substance to it—just idle talk about college life. Suddenly, there was an awkward silence, and we just stared at each other. I don't know who made the first move, but we suddenly embraced, kissed passionately, caressed each other, and finally rolled onto the bed. The moment I entered her, my wife's lovely face flashed through my mind. This thought instantly killed my interest, and I went limp after only a few thrusts. My mind went blank. My classmate, unaware of the reason, kindly comforted me, saying that I probably hadn't rested well while traveling. I lay on the bed, numbly holding her, feeling like a beast, even imagining myself kneeling before my wife begging for her forgiveness.

Later, my female classmate knelt between my legs and gently caressed me with her mouth. My wife has never liked giving me oral sex, and the few times she has, it has been quite reluctant. Therefore, the stimulation from my female classmate unleashed my primal instincts, and I rolled over and pinned her beneath me, this time having a thoroughly enjoyable time. Looking at my female classmate's face, contorted with excitement beneath me, I experienced a completely new kind of pleasure.

After this incident, I felt ashamed for a while. Out of a sense of atonement, I often took the initiative to do housework and was extra considerate to my wife for a period of time. However, old habits die hard, and before long, I started having inappropriate thoughts again. In the following years, I had several private affairs with other women, and my neglect of my wife became increasingly severe.

Men who have been married for a long time know that a wife's intuition about her husband is often very accurate. It's just that men generally overestimate their intelligence, always thinking that their lies are flawless. In fact, a wife doesn't need evidence to judge her husband's behavior, because they are born with the most lethal weapon: intuition.

A few years later, my career was going well, and I was promoted to head of an important department. I also had a steady mistress, a charming and alluring woman. I was indulging in this double life, neglecting my wife more and more. By this time, we had sent our child to my parents' house, partly to keep them company and partly to allow us to rekindle our romance. However, although the child was gone, the passion between us seemed to have vanished forever. And frankly, my main focus was on my mistress. My wife was essentially dispensable to me, and we made love less and less often. My wife was a reserved woman; when she had desire, she only hinted at it with body language, but I increasingly ignored her hints. Subconsciously, I thought that my wife was mine anyway, so I didn't need to pay much attention to her, while my mistress needed to be pampered.

Until that incident happened…

About eight years ago, on a Sunday, I woke up early as usual. My wife was still in bed, sleeping in. After I finished washing up, I went back to the bedroom and glanced at my wife. She was still asleep there. I said, "I'll go buy breakfast." After saying that, I walked across the living room to the door, put on my shoes, and opened the door. At that moment, I suddenly felt like I needed to go to the bathroom, so I closed the door behind me. Our bathroom is next to the bedroom door, so I turned around and went into the bathroom.

Sitting on the toilet, I picked up a magazine and slowly read it. One article caught my eye, and I calmly continued reading. Just then, I heard my wife walking around the living room in slippers. I assumed she was going to the bathroom, so I mischievously stayed seated. To my surprise, the sound of a phone dialing came from the living room, and it was on speakerphone. Our phone is in the corner of the living room, not far from the bathroom, so I heard it very clearly. The call connected, and a man answered. What my wife said next struck me like a thunderbolt: "Honey, are you up?" The man replied, "I've been up for ages, honey. Why are you calling me from the home phone? Isn't your husband home?" My wife said, "He went out to buy breakfast." The man said, "What time will you be here?" My wife said, "I don't know, I have to wait for him to go out and play mahjong." (On weekends, I rarely spend time with my wife; most of the time I'm hanging out with friends.) The man said, "No rush, I'll wait for you. What do you want to eat? I'll go buy it." My wife replied in an unusually gentle voice, "No need, darling, I'll buy it and bring it over. It's on my way. That's all for now. I have to go now; my husband might be back soon." — The phone hung up.

At that moment, I was stunned in the bathroom, my vision blurred, and I was trembling with rage. Instinct told me to rush out immediately, but reason reminded me to stay calm. A strange voice kept asking in my ear: How could this happen? How could this happen…

Later, every time I recalled that scene, I felt terrified: if my wife had gone into the bathroom after hanging up, the situation would have been uncontrollable. Moreover, my wife would have suspected me of being a shameless eavesdropper and spy. For my wife, being exposed would have led to a psychological breakdown.

Fortunately, after hanging up that day, my wife went back to bed. I, however, hid in the bathroom, unable to go in or out. Reason kept reminding me to control myself, I absolutely had to control myself. I desperately needed to find a place to sort out my thoughts, because reality had to be faced. So I left the bathroom as quietly as possible, deliberately opening and closing the bedroom door loudly as if I had just returned from outside. Then, in a very calm voice, I called out to the bedroom, "Honey, breakfast is sold out. I couldn't get any. You can cook some porridge yourself later. I have something to do and I'll be back in a bit." My wife, pretending to have just woken up, said from the bedroom, "Ugh, so annoying! Can't even let someone sleep in on the weekend?" I didn't say anything, turned around, and walked out of the house.

The neighborhood was very quiet and solemn on the weekend, with a few elderly people practicing Tai Chi in the distance. The weather was clear, but I felt like the sky was black.

Walking alone in the neighborhood, I felt completely empty, as if I were walking on cotton. Occasionally, I would run into acquaintances who greeted me, and I would just nod blankly. I sat down alone on a stone bench in a corner of the neighborhood. The stone bench was icy cold on this summer morning, but I couldn't feel it anymore. At that moment, only one question kept popping into my head: What should I do?

Perhaps it was related to the coldness of the stone bench, because soon I felt myself shivering. But my mind gradually calmed down, and I began to ponder the following questions:
First, what should I do? Should I expose him? Exposing him would be easy; even if my wife denied it, a simple check of the phone records at the telecommunications bureau would reveal who the man was. But what good would that do? The only result would be a complete falling out, shattering any remaining affection. Once deeply loved lovers would become strangers, even enemies.
Second, should I pretend I know nothing and slowly devise a plan? But the thought of my beloved wife naked and entangled with another man gave me a headache. At this point, I even had murderous urges.

After the stone bench was littered with my cigarette butts, I began to fully sober up. I started to recall the women I had been involved with over the years. Most of them had lovely children, warm homes, and husbands who deeply loved them. So, when I was making love with them, why did I never think about their husbands' feelings? The ancients said, "Do not do to others what you would not have them do to you." I asked myself, those women, each one was a good woman; they were all qualified mothers and virtuous wives. On another level, when I slept with them, although I had no intention of desecrating them, I still loved my own wife. Similarly, when they slept with me, they still loved their own husbands. Even if the passion between them had faded, the blood ties between them and their husbands were irreplaceable. So, for me, could any other woman in this world replace my wife? The answer is no. Although my wife had definitely cheated on me, that was beyond doubt, compared to my absurdity, what did her behavior amount to? Therefore,

the most important thing I should do, and the only thing I could do, was to make amends, not to cause further damage. Otherwise, the harm would be permanent. Thinking of the date my wife had mentioned on the phone earlier, I felt a wave of dizziness. So I quickly made two decisions: first, to pretend I knew nothing; second, to stop this date, I couldn't let her go any further. With that in mind, I ran to the flower shop across the street and bought my wife a bouquet of pink roses. This was only the second time I'd bought flowers for my wife. The first time was before we got married, when I was courting her. Years have passed in the blink of an eye; it all feels like a lifetime ago.

Returning home with the flowers, my wife was already dressed and cooking in the kitchen. Looking at the flowers in my hand, she was surprised and asked, "Didn't you send them out? Isn't your lover home?"—I don't even remember when we started talking to each other in this sarcastic tone. A wave of sadness washed over me. I went to my wife, hugged her tightly, and buried my face in her chest. My wife noticed my unusual behavior and asked, "What's wrong?" At that moment, tears streamed down my face. I tried to hide it, saying, "Nothing. I just saw an elderly couple walking together, supporting each other, and it suddenly made me think about how difficult life really is..." My wife had never seen me cry like this before

. A little bewildered, she patted my shoulder and said, "Don't think about it. Go watch some TV, breakfast will be ready soon." At breakfast, I had no appetite at all, just staring blankly at my wife. My wife was once again bewildered by my antics, asking, "What's wrong with you? You went out for a walk this morning and came back looking like a delicate flower." I didn't answer, just reached out and gently stroked her face.

After breakfast, I casually sat on the sofa watching TV, observing what my wife would do next. A little while later, she asked, "Aren't you going out today?" I said, "Nowhere, I'm staying home with my wife." Then, my heart pounding, I asked, "Is something wrong?" My wife hesitated for a moment, then said, "Something came up at work… but it's not urgent, we can take care of it on Monday." I said, "Then stay home, or I can go shopping with you…"

Around noon, I excused myself to buy cigarettes and went out. I thought my wife might need an opportunity and time to make a phone call…

That weekend, my wife didn't go to her date. In the afternoon, I took her to KFC. Before this, I had always hated junk food, but to make her happy, I pretended to like it and went with her.

Afterwards, I couldn't resist secretly checking the phone bill. I didn't find any clues, but that didn't prove anything, because cell phones were rare back then; even a basic pager with a Chinese display cost over two thousand yuan. I also couldn't check my wife's pager. All I could do was go home on time every day, spend as much time as possible with my wife, and give her more care and attention. While doing these things, I endured indescribable torment. Scenes of her having sex with another man kept flashing through my mind, and I often dreamed about them, each scene seemingly right before my eyes. I made excuses to go to her office several times (by this time, she had been promoted to a minor department head), but there were five people in her office, and I couldn't confirm if that man was one of them. Actually, who he was didn't matter; it was just that the curiosity, anger, and humiliation kept surging within me, making it impossible for me to extricate myself.

All I could do was fulfill my responsibilities, or rather, make up for what I hadn't done well before. For my wife, this was a form of compensation, but for me, it was a deserved punishment. The initiative had been handed over to my wife. During that time, I basically cut off contact with my lover. When facing him, I felt no interest whatsoever, and there was even a vague resentment, as if she was the cause of it all. During that period, whenever I had sex with my wife, I often couldn't control the inexplicable urges, as if I were competing with someone else. At

the time, I hadn't read any rational articles about dating or group sex, and even if I had, I couldn't accept those seemingly unconventional methods. I only occasionally searched online for some psychological counseling articles about my wife's infidelity. Later, I found that reading many so-called experts' pretentious writings only made me more depressed, so it was better not to read them at all.

Some people say that time is the best medicine for all problems, and that's very true. After my unremitting efforts, my wife finally started to communicate with me more often, and we rediscovered the feeling we had back then. We both enjoy drinking beer. Once, we finished ten bottles of beer at home, still not satisfied, so we went out for barbecue late at night, drinking and chatting, rambling about everything under the sun, including our children and our future plans. However, I always adhered to one principle: I never mentioned her infidelity. Several times, she clearly intended to confess, but I pretended not to care and deflected the question. Looking back now, I realize it was because I was cowardly; I couldn't resolve this inner conflict myself. So I chose to avoid the topic, trying to forget it and let time heal the wound. Seeking common ground while respecting differences is definitely a good approach.

After this ordeal, my relationship with my wife underwent a qualitative change: beyond that of husband and wife, we were often closer than confidants. Harmony increased, arguments decreased, and we became much closer. And often, I even felt a deep, heartfelt love for her, like that for my own daughter.

After some time, when I felt the time was right, I confessed to her about my first affair with a female classmate. And other experiences (God forgive my reservations, because I went too far in many things and I was afraid she couldn't accept it. Also, I felt that if I revealed all these wounds to her without reservation, given that I had already realized my mistakes, I was afraid she wouldn't be able to handle the heavy psychological impact. In a way, this might be a kind of white deception, because there's a premise: I truly realized my mistakes). Actually, she already knew many of my things before I confessed them, but she didn't expose me for the sake of our family and children.

She also proactively told me about her only extramarital affair. She spoke calmly, and I listened calmly: it turned out that the man was a major client of their bank, a very considerate man, and he also had a happy family. During the time I neglected my wife, he approached her. According to my wife, during her relationship with that man, she was constantly tormented by emotions and conscience. She initially accepted that man largely out of revenge against me, and secondarily out of emotional and physical needs. But after the affair, she discovered that things were far more complicated than that. The reason for my infidelity was my husband's betrayal, and afterwards, I felt even more guilty towards myself—a painful self-inflicted wound. Since that unfortunate Sunday, my wife was overjoyed to accept my change, and things underwent a qualitative shift: since then, she sensed I might know something, but I never brought up these sensitive matters, for which she was extremely grateful. Furthermore, I consistently showed her care and consideration through my actions, and she proactively ended her ambiguous relationship with that man, transforming from lovers to normal, ordinary friends. Later, I also became friends with that man—but that's another story.

Looking back now, through the process of saving my marriage and love, I also saved both of us.

As time passed, our lives seemed to return to normal. For the next two or three years, I didn't touch any woman other than my wife; the previous lesson was too profound. However, a very troubling problem remained: that scene from years ago hadn't faded with time; instead, it had become clearer. This inner turmoil continued to plague me. Many couples, in the heat of the moment, like to say inappropriate things, which is a normal behavior and can increase excitement and pleasure. Later, I often asked my wife this when she was close to orgasm: "Was it good when you were with your lover?" At first, my wife, still in a daze, remained wary and said, "No, he's not as good as you." While thrusting vigorously, I gritted my teeth and said, "Tomorrow I'll find a hundred men to tie you up and play with you!" My wife was completely overwhelmed, repeatedly cheering, and finally we both reached orgasm simultaneously. Later

, I often changed my tactics. For example, when my wife was excited, I would mention her favorite male celebrity: "Honey, you're having sex with Chow Yun-fat right now." She would nod excitedly, and then I would ask, "Would you like to do it with other men?" She would obediently answer, "Yes, but my husband is still the best..." So, sometimes I would pretend to be her boss, sometimes her classmate, and sometimes even a stranger.

Every time I did this, the quality of our sex was surprisingly good. But when the initial passion faded, if I asked her, "What did you just say?" she would definitely deny it outright: "I didn't say anything, you're such a pervert."

Sometimes I privately think that I might actually be a little perverted. However, if this perversion can bring harmonious marital happiness, then it can't be considered perverted.

Although I know this outcome is good, at the time I couldn't explain why it was good, or what made it good. Moreover, deep down, I still had an unresolved knot in my heart—I still felt that I was a little perverted. To clarify: I told my wife all these doubts without reservation, without any concealment. My wife, however, was very dismissive of this, always saying things like, "I think you're just bored, your mind is full of nonsense. You're torturing yourself."

Until a few years ago, I started reading articles about multiple partners or partner swapping, and combined with my own experiences, I re-analyzed myself with a rational mindset. And, ultimately, it was the respectable Sister Li Yinhe who untied my knot. After reading a lot of her articles on sociology and ethics, my knot was completely untied. At least, I know: I am a normal person.

I don't know if this is human nature, or perhaps I am someone with this nature and potential.

Before continuing, I'd like to briefly mention Li Yinhe.

I don't know how many people have actually read Ms. Li Yinhe's writings. Currently, there's a constant barrage of criticism against her online. I've read many articles criticizing her, most of which focus on her disruptive influence on marriage and family stability. Everyone portrays themselves as pure and noble Confucian gentlemen, praising the beauty of marriage while simultaneously and morally negating Li Yinhe and her professional viewpoints. Many believe that both men and women should be absolutely faithful to their spouses and remain faithful until death. —Here, I declare that I completely agree with this view. However, reality often differs from ideals. Humans are complex, and this complexity stems from the complexity of human nature. Human nature isn't entirely good; there's also evil, and many things that exist in the ambiguous realm between good and evil.

For example, I don't consider myself a bad person, but is it really that easy to distinguish between good and bad? When I betrayed my wife, to her I was an absolute villain. But faced with the reality that I had become a villain, should my wife kill me? Or resolutely abandon the marriage? Should she rationally try to salvage the relationship, or completely reject it?

I think every wise person would not choose to throw the baby out with the bathwater. I've always been very confused by a crucial point held by those who vehemently criticize Li Yinhe: they believe that having an extramarital affair is normal, as long as one is cautious and doesn't let their spouse find out—it's a kind of benevolent deception.

I think how terrible the world would be if this idea were accepted by most people: when faced with a wife's or husband's solemn vows, you would wonder: is his or her declaration also a white lie? As a husband, you can put yourself in her shoes: if your wife had already cheated on you, but she hid it well, so you didn't know, would you consider this behavior normal or not?

As a husband or wife, when faced with "open communication" and a flawless so-called "white lie," which would you choose? If it were me, I would choose open communication. Compared to unwavering fidelity, betrayal is wrong, but a greater mistake than betrayal is deception. The most heartbreaking thing about a wife's or husband's betrayal is not the physical separation, but the emotional estrangement. —The blow is devastating when you suddenly discover that the person you trusted most has been deceiving you all along.

Many of Li Yinhe's articles can help us recognize this more clearly. Therefore, those who vehemently criticize Li Yinhe are not so much rejecting her as they are rejecting their own awakening, rejecting their own escape from the quagmire of self-deception. Every married person can truly understand this: marriage is a partnership, a joint effort. Many things don't go as planned. For example, my wife was always a devoted wife and mother, virtuous and kind, yet I still had an affair.

Many aspects of human nature are unavoidable. If you don't want to deceive yourself, you have to face them bravely.

My wife and I finally got our lives back on track. It seemed that only then did we truly begin to love each other. Especially the emotional intimacy, which is indescribable. Gradually, my wife developed a habit: whatever happened at work or outside, she would tell me all about it, asking for my advice on her troubles and sharing her joys. Each time, I listened attentively. Many times, my wife lay in my arms, saying emotionally, "Honey, even if we're not husband and wife anymore, I believe we'll still be best friends." — For a man, this simple sentence is more precious than ten thousand "I love you"s.

Once, the female classmate I had a passionate encounter with came to our city for a conference. Since that time we had, we haven't been very close. Sometimes we'd call to say hello, and occasionally exchange a few sweet words, but it was more like playful banter. My wife had seen her picture in my graduation yearbook and heard my story about her, so she wasn't entirely unfamiliar with her. I told my wife that she was coming for a conference. My wife jokingly said, "Want to rekindle the old flame? Want me to make room for you?" I went along with it, "No need, you don't take up much space. Our bed is big, three people can sleep in it." Hearing this, my wife called me a pervert and then rushed over to pinch me.

Originally, I just wanted to treat my female classmate to a meal and show her around the city; I didn't plan to give her any special hospitality, since the conference organizers had already arranged her food and accommodation. But my wife said that since her classmate was coming all the time, she should at least invite her over. I knew exactly what my wife's reaction meant: she was taking the initiative, using offense as defense.

On the day my female classmate arrived, my wife took a day off to accompany me to the airport. My wife explained, "This shows how much we value her." My female classmate was quite surprised by my wife's appearance, as I hadn't told her beforehand. But no worries, women are natural diplomats, masters of appearances. Within five minutes of meeting, the two women, each with their own hidden agendas, acted like sisters separated for decades. While driving, I glanced at their whispered conversation in the rearview mirror and couldn't help but laugh. Then both women attacked me, and I thought, "You two are putting on such a convincing show!"

After dropping my classmate off at her place and sitting for a while, the three of us returned home. My wife ran around getting drinks and peeling apples. She whispered to me, "She's uglier than in the photos." Haha, that's women for you. After a while, my wife said, "You two chat for a bit, I'm going out to buy groceries. Let's not go out tonight, let's eat at home." Ignoring my classmate's protests, she left.

I knew perfectly well that my wife wanted to give us some time alone. This cunning fellow firmly controlled the situation, yet maintained a flawless facade. He wanted to be involved, but didn't want me to notice his jealousy. After my wife left, my classmate and I remained seated, our faces impassive after my wife's enthusiastic antics. We both lost the desire to do anything naughty. My classmate said, "Your wife is so nice, I can tell, you two are very happy..." I went over, gently hugged her, and asked, "If I told him about us, what do you think she would do?" My classmate was startled and said, "She would definitely kill me." I laughed and said, "You're shameless, sleeping with someone else's husband while acting so naturally intimate with him." My classmate kicked me: "You seduced me."

Half an hour later, my wife returned from grocery shopping, and the two women busied themselves in the kitchen. Unable to help, I lay on the bed watching TV. My wife sneaked over and asked, "You two didn't do anything naughty while I was away, did you?" I grabbed her hand and tried to stuff it into my pants, saying, "Here, check for yourself." She laughed and pulled away, returning to the kitchen.

Dinner was sumptuous, and the atmosphere at the table was harmonious. I drank baijiu (Chinese liquor), while my wife and my classmate drank red wine. At first, my classmate talked about their trivial matters as a couple, and some embarrassing things I did in school; later, my wife reminisced about our relationship from meeting to falling in love—work, career, family, and so on. She laughed heartily one moment, then shed a few tears the next. Later, they finished their red wine and started drinking beer, quickly emptying four bottles. Then they tried to wrestle the baijiu from me. I was terrified they'd say something inappropriate when drunk, so I clung tightly to the bottle. The two women quickly reached an agreement: "We won't drink that crap anymore; we'll go out and buy some now." They were about to leave when I tried to stop them, but they punched and kicked me. In the end, I had no choice but to let them go.

Before long, the two of them returned with a bunch of beer. However, they didn't drink much, instead continuing their endless chatter about life. Before they knew it, it was past 11 PM. My classmate suggested going back to the hotel. My wife firmly disagreed. The hotel was far from our home, and she was worried about my safety driving after drinking. She also couldn't bear to let her take a taxi home alone, so she suggested my classmate stay at our house for the night. —By this time, we had moved to a bigger house, with an extra small bedroom for my parents who often stayed over. Seeing this, my classmate didn't refuse much and agreed to let them stay.

After a quick shower, my wife and I crawled into bed. My wife's reaction was unusually passionate; she clung to me like a snake, kissing and biting me. She screamed and shouted without restraint beneath me. I repeatedly tried to cover her mouth to stop her screaming, but it was futile. Her defiant screams were impossible to stop. After the passion subsided, I quickly fell asleep due to the alcohol.

I don't know how much time passed, but I woke up thirsty from the alcohol. Just as I was about to get up to get some water, I suddenly noticed my wife staring at me with her eyes wide open. Startled, I asked, "Why aren't you asleep yet?" She said, "I can't sleep, I haven't been able to sleep at all." I reached out and pulled her into my arms. "What's wrong, darling?" I asked. She said, "Nothing, just overthinking." I said, "What are you thinking about now? Tell me." She hesitated for a moment, then asked, "You and her won't have anything happen again?" I said, "Silly girl, trust me, I won't lie to you or hurt you again." My wife didn't say anything, burying her head in my chest. After a while, my wife suddenly stammered, "Why don't you go check on her..." This startled me, and I quickly said, "Don't be silly, be good, go to sleep." My wife said, "I'm not joking, and I'm not testing you. I mean it. Go ahead." My mind raced, trying to figure out what was going on. Before I could understand, my wife added, "Come back in an hour." I didn't answer, but silently hugged my wife and kissed her deeply. After a long while, my wife said again, "Go...
"

I pushed open the door to the small bedroom and whispered, "Are you asleep?" There was no answer. I went to the bedside; my female classmate was lying face up, eyes open. I lifted the covers and lay down beside her, whispering, "Why aren't you asleep?" She nudged me, saying urgently, "Are you crazy? Go back now, or we'll both be dead if your wife comes." I said, "It's okay, I won't do anything. I'll just hold you for a while, then I'll go back right away." She sighed, turned, and hugged me tightly, then whispered in my ear, "You're so brave! Aren't you afraid your wife will wake up and not be able to find you?" I sighed and said, "She already knows about us." Hearing this, she didn't react with surprise. This puzzled me, so I asked her, "Aren't you scared?" She thought for a moment and said, "Actually, your husband already told me when we went out to buy alcohol." I fell silent...

We lay there quietly for a while, and then she said, "Go back. I can't do anything to betray her again." I got up and walked towards my wife's room. Suddenly, an idea popped into my head. I quickly went back to the bedside, picked her up, and said, "Come here too." My classmate struggled and cursed at me, "Put me down, you bastard, do you want to die?" I ignored her and carried her to my wife's and my bedroom. When we entered the room, to cover up the embarrassment, she deliberately called my wife's name loudly and said, "Don't you care about your husband? Look at the mess you've made!"

My wife was equally surprised and said, "Why aren't you sleeping properly in the middle of the night? You two are just making a mess of things." I walked to the bedside and slammed the woman in my arms onto the bed.

The female classmate, trying to get out of bed, said, "I'm not going to mess around with you guys anymore, I'm going back to sleep." My wife said, "Since you're already here, let's talk for a bit. I'm too excited from drinking to sleep." Seeing this, the classmate went along with it and lay down on the bed, still muttering about me, "You really need to control your jerk husband." My wife laughed and pulled the blanket over her. I went around to the inside of the bed and lay down next to my wife. —I was on the far end, my wife was in the middle, and she was on the far end.

The atmosphere became a little awkward. Neither of us knew what to say. I tried to make conversation with my wife, saying, "She hasn't slept either." My wife teased my classmate, "Even country bumpkins are too excited to sleep on their first trip to the city." My classmate said, "I'm trying to sleep, but you two are making such a racket, it's driving me crazy." I chimed in, "If I'd known it would be like this, I would have lent it to you." Before I could finish, my wife immediately said, "Yeah, it's not like we haven't used it before." My classmate said, "You two must be crazy." I pretended to be drunk and suddenly jumped between them. My classmate tried to get up and run away, but I pulled him back and wrapped my arm around him. So, I had one arm around her and the other around my wife. The three of us lay there silently, each feeling the other's heartbeat.

Suddenly, a hand touched my penis; judging from the direction, it was my wife's. This scene, if written down for an outsider, might seem exciting, but at the time I was extremely nervous. Far from being excited, my penis felt completely limp, utterly devoid of feeling. My wife teased me, "You useless man, two beautiful women in your arms and you don't even react!" I turned and kissed my wife fiercely, breaking the ice. My female classmate also reached out and hugged me. The two women's hands alternately caressed my sensitive areas. Later, I moved to the outermost edge of the bed, and my wife and I embraced her from behind, caressing each other. Suddenly, she and my wife kissed. This was the first time I had truly witnessed two women caressing each other, and I never imagined it would feel so beautiful… At one point, I tried to penetrate my classmate, but it didn't work. My initially excited penis went limp as soon as it reached the entrance. I think it was probably because I was worried about my wife, afraid she wouldn't accept it, and also because I wasn't fully psychologically prepared. This strange feeling prevented me from completely letting go. However, the sensory stimulation was already intense enough. After a while of passion, the alcohol made me a little dizzy. The two of them cuddled together, chatting idly, and I slowly drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, I was shaken awake. Opening my eyes, I saw it was my classmate, already dressed. I wasn't quite there yet. Looking at the bed, my wife wasn't there. I asked her, "Where's XX?" She said, "She's cooking in the kitchen. Get up." I pulled her close and kissed her. Then I got up.

That was the end of it. My classmate attended a three-day conference, and when she left, my wife and I went to the airport to see her off. Seeing how reluctant they were to part, I realized they were both genuine. The feeling of ulterior motives I had before was gone. Afterwards, I talked to my wife about it several times, trying to understand her true motive for asking me to go to another room that night. Each time, she explained it the same way: "I drank too much." So I stopped pressing her.

Now, this is how I understand my wife's behavior that night: First, there was an element of excitement, but not much. Secondly, perhaps it stems from a hidden sense of atonement within her. Although I don't think she made a huge mistake, that brief affair years ago remains an unresolved knot in her heart. Thirdly, she wanted to use this method to firmly grasp my heart. These three factors might all be present, or none at all. If you carefully observe women, you'll find many mysteries about them that you'll never understand.

After this near-NP experience, I purposefully read some articles about NP online. I discovered a very interesting phenomenon: most men don't seem to really like the two-woman-one-man arrangement. Based on my experience, I think this sentiment is very real and quite normal. This isn't hard to understand. Since ancient times, Chinese people have considered sex a very ambiguous and shameful matter; the topic of sex has always been very sensitive. Although Confucius said long ago, "Food and sex are human nature," his later disciples, especially from Zhu Xi onwards, have consistently advocated the suppression of human nature. The suppression and cruelty towards women, in particular, is appalling. It seems that women, both physically and psychologically, are inherently subordinate to men. Therefore, many men still commit adultery outside of marriage while shamelessly advocating "white deception," while some with a conscience cannot resist seeking pleasure outside the marriage while enduring guilt towards their wives.

Some deeply ingrained traditional concepts are very difficult to break. Therefore, many women can only choose to turn a blind eye to their husbands' misconduct—a helpless concession. In most Chinese families, the economic foundation is generally controlled and dominated by men, which determines that women are also at a disadvantage in the superstructure of marriage. Furthermore, even in families where women are economically independent, women's innate maternal instincts make them more family-oriented than men, giving them a stronger sense of responsibility towards children and the elderly. Coupled with some subconscious traditional patriarchal ideas, women can only suppress themselves.

Returning to the initial topic of NP (non-consensual relationships), this topic remains confined to online conversations with strangers. No one dares to discuss it with close friends or family in real life, unless the relationship has evolved from online to offline. Zhao Benshan once said in an interview, "In China, speaking a few truths is taken as humor." Indeed, we've become accustomed to hypocrisy. Even worse, speaking the truth is often seen as perverted, even if the listener inwardly finds what you say perfectly normal; they'll still verbally condemn you. For example, many of those currently criticizing Li Yinhe are clearly insincere, yet they still vehemently condemn her. Rational people shouldn't be angry about this, because they're deceiving themselves. We shouldn't punish ourselves for the foolishness of others.

Let's analyze the pressure on a man in a situation involving two women and one man with his wife present: First, psychologically, if you don't deeply love your wife, you don't need to do this; if you do love your wife, you'll be very worried that she'll be jealous, angry, or unhappy. No matter how well you communicate beforehand, you can't eliminate this psychological pressure unless you're not a very responsible man. Second, physiologically, due to the physiological structure of men and women, unless both women have bisexual tendencies, one of them will always be excluded, and one woman will always be temporarily neglected. Even if the women don't mind this neglect, as a man, you'll feel an invisible pressure and guilt. This pressure and guilt can easily lead to weakness, making the whole process very regrettable. In that case, you might as well go on a date with your lover alone; that would be more passionate and wouldn't directly harm your wife.

Since our unsuccessful near-NP (multiple partners) encounter, my female classmate came to our city again. My wife still wanted her to stay with us, but I stopped her, and I felt really awkward. Our relationship as a trio remained excellent, and when I was alone with her, the previous ambiguity was gone. We'd occasionally hold hands, hug, or kiss—that was all. Sometimes, this intimacy was more pleasurable than sex. She frequently called my home, but most of the time she spoke with my wife. Even when I answered, we'd only exchange a few words before I handed the phone to my wife, letting the two women chatter on—topics that, to a man, would be utterly tedious: for example, she'd just had a fight with her husband, and my wife would join her in berating him; or my wife and I had just argued, and they'd both berate me on the phone.

From that moment on, I completely broke off all contact with my former lover, and I never lied to my wife about having been with another woman. This wasn't because I was particularly self-disciplined, nor was it to uphold any promise to my wife; it was entirely voluntary. Men who frequent hotels and restaurants often have this feeling: when you suddenly realize the warmth of home, you'll find that no matter how luxurious the hotel, it's not as comfortable as your own bed; no matter how lavish the banquet, it's not as delicious as the few simple dishes on your family's table. When I recall my sexual experiences with other women, I truly feel that the most harmonious and comfortable sex comes from my wife. That kind of intimate connection built on a solid emotional foundation is hard to achieve with other women. I can give two simple examples to illustrate this: when my wife and I are having sex, as soon as I try to close my legs, she immediately bends and raises them, changing positions even before I stop thrusting. Most incredibly, no matter how deeply my wife is asleep, if I gently touch her head with my arm, she immediately lifts her head so I can place my arm under her head, then turns and snuggles into my arms—this is entirely unconscious behavior.

Sometimes I envy men who are so at ease in the world of pleasure; I wonder how they can be so passionate even with strange women. But I can't. I've always felt that sex should be built on a foundation of feelings and communication; at the very least, the two people shouldn't be complete strangers. Otherwise, the more you think about it, the more awkward it becomes. It's like a strange man on the street taking off his socks and handing them to you, and you continuing to wear them—I think very few people would agree to that. Due to my work, I've frequently had opportunities to visit entertainment venues over the years, but without exception, I've always chosen to drink or have tea alone. Colleagues and friends often sincerely praise me for being very virtuous. But little do they know that, in terms of wrongdoing, I've probably done far more than they have, just in different ways. In essence, my past behavior of seducing respectable women was far more egregious.

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Authentic, nuanced, and touching [Reprint] My wife and I's story, let me tell you slowly (Part 1)

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