Husband's Diary: Adultery

January 10th -

This year has been truly unlucky. At the beginning of the year, I suffered a major setback, losing most of my hard-earned 20,000 yuan investment!

The end of the year is even tougher. Orders from foreign companies just stopped coming, and the small assembly line factory where I work directly reduced production. Many of my fellow villagers were laid off early and left Guangzhou to find work in other cities. Those of us who can't leave can only try to find side jobs to earn a little extra money, barely managing to stay afloat. Fortunately, the government launched the "Home Appliances to the Countryside" program, which offered some hope. I used my connections to introduce some factory owners to government orders, taking a commission in the process. I've made a little money. But I also have to discuss with my wife that we need to cut back on household expenses in the future, hoping for a better year next year, and perhaps one day we can open our own small business!

So, this Spring Festival, my wife and I plan to take a good rest, stroll around the city, and browse the big shopping malls – just like a vacation, to relax and unwind. Sigh, this past year has been incredibly busy for me. I've spent far too little time with my wife!

Thankfully, she hasn't complained, but she's the type to keep things bottled up, preferring to suffer rather than talk about it. Even if she doesn't say anything, I can't pretend nothing's wrong. I have to spend some money on her for the New Year, give her some small gifts, treat her to a nice meal, and... make it up to her in bed.

Because of the past year of drinking, socializing, and working late into the night, even though we've maintained a regular sex life, I clearly feel like I'm just barely getting by; the "quality of service" has declined! This week,

January 16th

, there wasn't much work at the factory, so I didn't have to work overtime. I spent my evenings at home, having dinner with my wife several times. Although we chatted while eating, I noticed a slight awkwardness in our conversations!

Yes, being so busy, leaving early and returning late, and having less time together inevitably leads to a sense of estrangement. Perhaps out of guilt, I paid special attention to my wife's every move, hoping to find more topics to talk about and rekindle the fun. Unexpectedly, this led me to discover some things that made me suspicious!

It all started these past few evenings, almost always around 7:30 PM. My wife would clean up the dishes and kitchen waste and go downstairs to take out the trash.

Taking out the trash is a normal thing, of course, but after one, two, or three nights, I started to notice something unusual: why did it take her half an hour to come back after going downstairs?

We live on the fifth floor. From upstairs to downstairs, and then to the garbage collection point not far from our dormitory, it would only take my wife and me ten minutes round trip. My wife is usually quite fast, so why would it take her half an hour to take out the trash? Was she taking a walk along the way?

But I quickly realized that wasn't the case, because I noticed something else unusual: when my wife came home, she always looked uneasy. She would often go straight into the bathroom and come out a while later, always having changed her clothes, but I couldn't hear her showering inside. In other words, she was only going in to change.

It's normal to change clothes after sweating from going up and down stairs, but the way she looked when she came in and the way she deliberately avoided eye contact made me pretty sure... she was hiding something from me.

I don't know why I'm so sensitive; maybe it's because I've dealt with a lot of workers in the factory and handled petty theft, so I'm quite experienced in the body language of people who've done bad things. Therefore

, I noticed my wife's behavior immediately. Could it be...

could it be something? I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but I vaguely sensed it wasn't something ordinary.

But I never imagined she'd be hiding anything from me, because I know her too well.

My wife, Wenting, is from Chaoshan; she's gentle, doesn't like to argue, and is even... the kind of person who's afraid of trouble. So, it's unlikely she's had any conflict or argument with anyone. If I had to think of something else, could it be... something emotional?

Could someone be pursuing her?

That's not entirely impossible. Wenting isn't conventionally beautiful, but she has fair skin and delicate features—the kind of look that grows on you.

Her figure is well-proportioned, neither too big nor too small. But this "not too big, not too small" doesn't mean she isn't attractive to men. Because she's from Chaoshan, she has the devilishly perfect waist and hips typical of Chaoshan women, plus a pair of perfectly sized, white breasts, creating a

figure that attracts attention like bees to bee… a pregnant look. I heard this term from a coworker who frequents websites; it refers to a woman who is not small, but rather voluptuous, and this figure attracts mature men—not for romance, but directly out of the instinct to conceive.

My wife, Wenting, has a pregnant look. It's not impossible for men to have impure thoughts about her, but I absolutely do not believe she's having an affair. Even if… even considering this situation, I truly don't think it's an affair. It definitely won't happen because I love her very much, and I know she loves me very much.

Sigh, after thinking it over and over, Wenting's guilty-looking behavior... could it be because I felt I wasn't spending enough time with her, and my overactive senses made me suspicious?

But once that thought crossed my mind, it was like I was bewitched. My thoughts kept drifting to things like affairs and ambiguous relationships.

On January 19th

, I don't know if my wife noticed I was starting to pay attention, but in the following nights, she went downstairs to take out the trash faster. At that time, because I didn't want to speculate anymore, I decided to find an opportunity to secretly follow her, to see for myself what exactly happened to my wife after she went downstairs each night.

Right after dinner, I pretended to be going to watch a football game, curling up on the sofa to watch TV by myself.

When my wife saw me watching the game, she seemed to want to hurry up, tidying up more quickly than usual, and then went to take out the trash as usual.

It seemed she really wanted to save time, to make the trash-taking time longer, to avoid arousing my suspicion? Thinking about this, I felt very unhappy. I told myself to calm down, imagining that what I would see when I went downstairs was perfectly normal—that my wife was just late because she was chatting with… or rather, chatting with the neighbors.

After my wife left the house, I waited until the sound of her walking down the stairs faded before leaving myself. I tiptoed downstairs, keeping about two floors' distance from her. After she had walked about twenty meters from the building, I slowly followed her from behind.

I watched her walk out of the complex gate and turn into the alley near the garbage collection point, always maintaining a certain distance. After my wife threw the garbage into the collection bin and turned around, I knew she was going to look back. I was hiding in a corner out of the streetlights, and I ducked my head out. I could still see her, but she couldn't see me at all.

I watched Wenting walk towards the other end of the block, but she didn't go far before she arrived at the old-fashioned Cantonese grocery store that the nearby residents often bought things from. The store really was called "Old Cantonese," run by an old man from Guangdong, whom everyone in the neighborhood called Uncle Zheng. In his youth, he was a shipyard mechanic. After retiring, he stayed home. In recent years, the urban village was slated for demolition, and after receiving a large sum of compensation, he didn't move to a new building but bought this shop not far from his old home, selling daily necessities.

Uncle Zheng was a fat old man in his sixties. Old men, no matter how handsome they are, often have a somewhat sleazy appearance, and with his fat body, he resembled a chubby lucky cat. He would usually greet customers politely.

Regardless of the season, Uncle Zheng always wore the same outfit: an old-fashioned white vest and knee-length denim shorts. Even in the coldest weather in Guangdong, which was only seven or eight degrees Celsius, Uncle Zheng would only change into long pants and a trench coat. He was in pretty good health. Every day, you could see him sitting in front of the shop, his big belly protruding, drinking baijiu and eating peanuts, looking quite carefree.

Sometimes when he was drunk, he couldn't control his speech and would swear, but other times, when he was in a good mood, he would proudly shake his bald head and sing Cantonese opera in a low voice.

Thinking about all this, Wenting actually went into the general store, looking around as if she was really afraid someone would see her!

I watched her turn around and then walk into the deepest part of the general store. My view was blocked by the shelves, and my wife disappeared from my sight.

I was afraid of alerting her, and also afraid that I was wrong. I thought maybe my wife had just bought some daily necessities and was going home. But I waited for five minutes, ten minutes, fifteen minutes, and Wen Ting still hadn't appeared. What had she been doing in the general store for so long?

After nearly twenty minutes, someone came out from the back of the general store, but it wasn't my wife Wen Ting. Instead, it was... two men, of medium height and build, walking out chatting and laughing. One of them was adjusting his belt as he walked. I approached the general store in the dim light of the streetlights. At that moment, the two men walked out of the store, turned left together at the three-way intersection, said goodbye, and went their separate ways.

The two men looked familiar, but I couldn't tell who they were. They probably didn't know each other, but they definitely lived nearby and had run into each other before.

When I turned my gaze back to the grocery store, I finally saw my wife, Wenting, inside. Standing next to her was a man, whom I could recognize from the store's lighting as the owner, Uncle Zheng. His face was flushed from drinking, his bald head gleaming in the light, and his belly round and protruding.

He was grinning and whispering something in my wife's ear, his manner excessively intimate, as if he were about to kiss her cheek. After a few words, he grabbed a bottle of soy sauce from the shelf and shoved it into her hand. His other hand seemed to reach behind her and grope her. My wife shifted slightly, looking uncomfortable, but said nothing and left the grocery store without a word.

I quickly moved away from her sight and ran home, my heart pounding. Although I hadn't seen it yet, the memory of the man pulling at my belt and Uncle Zheng's groping gestures suggested it was something serious! My wife, Wenting, had done something... something inappropriate with that old man, Uncle Zheng… or maybe not just Uncle Zheng.

I dared not think any further, dared not imagine how far things had progressed!

But being an adult, and having dealt with far more complicated messes in the factory, I managed to barely suppress my emotions. Although the incident had left me utterly shocked and bewildered, I knew that to catch a thief red-handed, one must first catch them red-handed.

My heart pounded and my steps were almost synchronized the whole way home—I was in a panic!

Hatred welled up inside me, but my mind began to conjure up images and scenarios of things I didn't want to know—a jumbled mess of thoughts that felt increasingly real, as if I had witnessed them firsthand. They were shameful, disgusting, yet I couldn't stop them!

When I got home, I poured myself a glass of ice water to calm myself down, then sat back down on the sofa to continue watching the game. A few minutes later, my wife, Wenting, returned. She flashed a bottle of soy sauce as she entered, saying she had just picked up a bottle of imported Lee Kum Kee oyster sauce from Hong Kong at the grocery store because she was planning to cook some good dishes for me tomorrow.

I gave a casual reply, pretending to be engrossed in the game. I didn't want to look at her expression, nor did I dare to, because I knew perfectly well that my beloved wife was lying to me. I could tell from her voice that she was lying; it trembled as she spoke. That evening,

January 20th

, I stayed home again. After dinner, I watched TV. My wife went to take out the trash after dinner… I didn't follow her. Since I already knew where she went, there was no need to follow her anymore. I was just thinking about what to do next.

When my wife came back, just like yesterday, she said she bought some things at the grocery store, so she was late coming upstairs. This time, she brought back a pack of imported sanitary napkins. After putting them down, she went straight to the bathroom to change.

I thought to myself, imported sanitary napkins! That old man, Uncle Zheng, is so considerate of my wife's private parts!

Ugh, how could I think like that about Wenting? She loves me, absolutely. Even if that thing really happened, it was definitely not her fault. If anyone's to blame, it's that old, immortal Uncle Zheng.

After my wife went into the bathroom and closed the door, I suddenly realized what she was doing every night at the grocery store... doing something shameful. That Uncle Zheng was probably alone or with other men, sexually assaulting my wife each time. To avoid me noticing, my wife always changes out of those "dirty clothes" as soon as she gets home.

Lately, she's probably worried that if I stay home too long, I'll notice something and wonder why she takes so long to take out the trash. So Uncle Zheng taught her how to deal with my suspicions by giving her some household items, making me think she was just wasting time downstairs buying things.

Then I started thinking, why would my wife do this kind of thing with Uncle Zheng and those old men? It's a transaction, impossible!

Even if we're short on money right now, it wouldn't be enough for her to sell herself. As for our relationship, we've just spent less time together, but we haven't had any arguments or conflicts. Knowing her character, she wouldn't find someone else just because I've spent less time with her.

I really can't figure out... what kind of strange coincidence led my wife to be like a prostitute, letting those old men... sigh!

Could it be that those old guys got some kind of... leverage over her, and then forced her into a relationship?

Where did they get that leverage?

We live in the old town area, full of old guys. We've lived here for a year, and we don't usually interact much with our neighbors. My wife is the kind of person who doesn't talk much and doesn't make friends easily. If she were lonely, she would have looked for someone younger, not some old men who aren't very active!

How could this be?

Why would this happen?

Unless, unless it wasn't her choice!

Could Wen Ting... have chosen willingly?

January 21st.

This morning, Wen Ting said she wasn't feeling well and asked me to go buy groceries. Since I had nothing to do at the factory, I took the day off and went to the market. On my way back, I noticed that not far ahead was Uncle Zheng's grocery store. From a distance, I could see Uncle Zheng and several other people sitting together in the courtyard of the empty little house next to the store.

At that moment, an idea struck me. I bypassed the alleyway, passed through the backyards of several small houses to reach the general store, and arrived at the empty house. I quietly approached through the narrow passage between the houses and gradually heard Uncle Zheng and several other men talking and laughing, pouring wine and cracking peanuts.

Using the cover of a few clumps of low bushes and flowers, I came to within four meters of them and squatted down to eavesdrop. I immediately heard Uncle Zheng's hoarse voice.

Uncle Zheng: "Look, you guys, I took all the photos very clearly, look! Look at him..."

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