Jealousy

Married life was so dull that I got myself a canary to pass the time.

Who would have thought the news would reach my husband, the man I’d married for an alliance? From that day on, he started coming home more and more often.

He even… kept finding new ways to surprise me. Until one day, he asked, “When are you going to take me to meet that canary you’re keeping outside?”

“What is it about him that has you so fascinated?”

I froze. “You want to meet him?”

After he gave me a firm yes, I took him to meet the bird I’d been raising.

A Gloster Canary.

I met someone named Chen Ye.

Everyone says he is loyal, kind, and a rare good person in this world.

But I think he is vulgar, hypocritical, and the most despicable and shameless scoundrel in the world.

Yet I kind of like him.

When I married Pei Miao, everyone praised our union as a match made in heaven. Our honeymoon bliss lasted less than three months before I discovered he had a soulmate. Pei Miao cherished and adored her, even setting up a private residence for her outside our home. When I confronted him, he coldly rebuked me: jealousy was unbecoming of a virtuous wife. So I learned to be magnanimous, until I too stepped beyond the boundaries of marriage and forced him to taste the same pain he had given me.

I found a chat log on Sheng Jing’s phone.

He had sent his female assistant a video of me helping Jiu Jiu with her homework and losing my temper.

“This is why I’d rather work overtime at the office than come home.”

The young assistant replied with a “poor you, sending hugs” sticker. “Manager Sheng, you have it so hard.

Work is exhausting enough, and then you have to deal with all that when you get home.”

Every night, I travel ten years into the future along with my classmate, the school’s most popular guy.

I never would have imagined that ten years from now, we’d be married with a baby of our own!

So, the moment I saw him lying there on my pillow, I didn’t hesitate for a second-I pounced right on him.

The day before our wedding, I accidentally stumbled upon a chat log between him and one of his old buddies.

“I’ve never met anyone so easy to fool.”

“She’s from a single-parent household, you know? She’s starved for affection.”

“So, even if I treat her just a tiny bit well, she comes crawling back to lick my boots.”

…

Honestly, I once believed he was the one who rescued me from the mire I was sinking in. As it turns out, he was just playing me for a fool the entire time.

I thought I had found love, but all my sincerity had been thrown to the dogs.

My roommate insisted on teaching me how to chase her childhood sweetheart.

Then she turned around and made a post asking for help:

[My good son said he wants to date, so as his dad, I introduced him to my roommate.

[And he got mad.

[How am I supposed to coax him, huh~]

The comments were dying of laughter:

[Brother Pei doesn’t want to date. He wants to date you.]

[He’s mad because you’re so clueless!]

The barrage comments exploded too:

[If the supporting female character tries a little harder, this dense female lead is about to realize her own feelings.]

[With her in the middle, their feelings will heat up and sparks will fly, and then they’ll finally break that last unspoken barrier~]

[She’s seriously using 001 like he’s Unit 001, huh.]

[Pretty durable, then. So when is she going to use him up and toss him in the trash?]

I let out a soft laugh.

Then I deleted the draft I’d been about to post: [Not chasing him anymore.]

You want me to keep pursuing him?

Sure.

It’s just that-

if I really do win him over,

don’t go being unhappy about it again.

My mother-in-law’s secret identity has been exposed.

I accidentally discovered that she is actually a legendary author of Stepmother Literature.

And my husband is her stepson.

My husband absolutely loathed his new graduate student.

He even went so far as to cause a scene in front of the Dean, demanding that she be transferred to another research group.

He claimed she was morally corrupt and a disgrace to academia.

That was, until the fire alarm went off. His custom-made suit was soaked through as he draped it over her head.

He pushed past me, carrying her in his arms like a princess as he rushed down the stairs.

I’ve read so many novels about the “crematorium” trope-where the husband has to crawl back and beg for forgiveness-but I never expected to find myself starring in one.

Except there’s no chasing, only the crematorium.

Because I’m actually dead.

I’ve become a ghost, watching the man who betrayed me. Seven days after my death, he finally seems crushed by a delayed sense of grief. In the home I can never return to, he howls in agony, acting as if life is no longer worth living.

You want to know how I feel?

I just stand there blankly, carefully admiring every inch of pain etched onto his face.

I listen intently to his desperate wails, triggered by my departure.

Beyond the desolation and heartache in my soul, a massive wave of schadenfreude suddenly wells up within me.

A joyful, blissful sense of schadenfreude.

It’s a sensation so sharp it borders on thrill. I cover my mouth and begin to laugh.