Chapter 7

Chapter 7

July 28 – Overcast

Miss Song’s parents died in a car accident when she was eighteen. Her boyfriend lost his father when he was very young and his mother during childhood, and was raised by his maternal grandparents. They too passed away, one after the other, a few years ago.

Neither of them had been close to their other relatives, and the ones they did know were all appalling: the sort who wouldn’t part with a single penny.

The moment Miss Song’s aunt and Jiang Rong’s aunt heard that the two of them were gone, they began scheming over their belongings. One after the other, they hounded me to ask whether Miss Song had given me anything valuable.

Miss Song’s aunt arrived at around seven or eight in the morning. Jiang Rong’s aunt came a little after ten.

I barely glanced at either of them. “She left me one phone and a note. Do you want them?”

Both women shook their heads and muttered, “She was that poor?”

Then each looked me up and down suspiciously. “You’re not planning to keep everything for yourself, are you?”

That was so outrageous I laughed.

I gave both women the same answer. “Ma’am, I was her friend. Nothing more than a friend! Would you leave your estate to someone you’d known for less than a month?”

“And even if she had left me something valuable, I would sell it to pay for her funeral. What makes you think you’d have any right to demand it from me?”

Then I casually added, “Since you’re their relatives, perhaps you should contribute to the funeral expenses.”

Both women found excuses and fled.

God. Imagine being cursed with relatives like that.

There was nothing else I could do. I buried Miss Song beside her boyfriend, in the plot she had reserved for him.

I’m sorry, Yanyan. Please allow me to use your nickname here in my diary. Brother Liang was useless. I couldn’t even give you and Jiang Rong a proper funeral.

…May you rest in peace.

July 29 – Overcast

Before she died, Miss Song had bought the wheelchair she’d originally rented for me. Sitting in it, I went through with my discharge despite the head nurse’s every attempt to stop me.

Even as I left, the head nurse complained about my stubbornness. I was rushing to leave before my injuries had healed. Did I think their hospital ate people?

I joked, “Your hospital is wonderful and responsible. It actually saves lives. It doesn’t eat people.”

The head nurse rolled her eyes, though her mood visibly improved. She even took time off to bring me back herself.

Once I returned to the gay conversion center, I heard that Old Wang had offered to care for me without pay, and that Miss Song’s uncle had magnanimously agreed.

How surreal.

Is this some consolation after everything fate has done to toy with me?

If someone tormented you for this long, then suddenly announced they were finished, who would believe them?

And yet I did. I truly believed it.

What was the purpose of all this suffering? Why did I deserve to be hurt this way? Why did I end up like this, unable to walk again for the rest of my life?

I’ve had enough. I really have had enough.

How much money could I possibly have owed the Tang family in my last life? I’ll pay you back. Just let me out of here, please…

July 30 – Overcast

It has been almost a month… and my husband still hasn’t realized something is wrong.

Forget it. He might be out with that woman right now. I had better not call.

Old Wang made me a pot of pork rib soup. He said he would make it every day and insisted that I keep drinking it.

I nodded without speaking.

There is so much pressure inside me that words can never express it all. Sometimes, writing is the best way to let it out.
I don’t even know what to write in this diary anymore. Every day here is the same, dull and monotonous. I truly have nothing left to say.

Forget it. Starting tomorrow, I’ll write a little each day about my husband and me. When I die, they can burn this diary to keep me company.

July 31 – Clear

Fragment One

After the day I ruined my husband’s clothes, a week passed without us seeing each other.

Just when I had almost forgotten the whole thing, the professors held a meeting, and there he was again.

This time, he appeared in his capacity as a member of the university board. His expression soured when he saw me too. Clearly, he remembered what had happened.

How awkward. Why was this man still holding a grudge?

By the time the meeting ended, I hadn’t heard a single word. My mind had been full of that suit from beginning to end.

…Well, I would find a chance to ask him. If I owed him compensation, then I had to pay it.

Afterward, I found him alone and asked how much the suit had cost. I told him I would reimburse him no matter what, and that I wouldn’t accept an argument.

My husband glanced at me and replied coolly, “It’s only a suit. You don’t have to pay for it.”

I thought, You don’t want compensation, but you’re still giving me that face? What the fuck is wrong with you?

Out loud, I said I owed him a favor and he could collect whenever he liked.

To my surprise, he actually considered it. Then he asked whether I was free that evening and said he needed my help with something.

While thinking that this man had no shame at all, I asked what he needed.

Three minutes later, I stormed out of the reception room.

That bastard wanted me to dress as a woman and accompany him to a banquet so no women would harass him!

What the fuck did any of that have to do with me?!

Of course I refused his outrageous request and asked whether I could repay the favor some other way.

He said no.

That was when I truly understood the saying silence is golden.

His absurd demand was an insult to my dignity. Could I agree to it? No! Absolutely not!

And so, with all the righteous conviction in the world… I agreed.

Fine, let him humiliate me. It was still better than paying.

Fuck. If I’d known that suit cost tens of millions, I would rather have let every drink on that tray pour over my own head.

I earn a handsome salary and live in a villa, but I am nowhere near rich enough to pull tens of millions out of thin air.

I signed – no, agreed to – what amounted to a humiliating treaty of surrender. Bah, I mean terms that left me with no dignity. Afterward, I pointed out that there wasn’t enough time to have an evening gown made.

He told me to go home and wait. Everything would be delivered together.

I returned to my little villa and passed the time online while I waited for him.

He brought the clothes over at around six that evening.

When I saw the burgundy mermaid gown, I breathed a sigh of relief.

All right. I could live with that. It wasn’t too strange.

Then I saw the latex breast pads.

…

…

What. The. Fuck.

Aaaaaagh! What the hell were those things?!

Why did I have to wear something so bizarre to a banquet?

My husband answered all my protests with one languid sentence.

“Do you want everyone there laughing because I found myself a flat-chested girlfriend?”

I kept arguing. “No! Absolutely not! I don’t care what you say, I won’t -”

“Then let’s discuss compensation.”

“…”

“…”

“Boss, give me ten minutes. I’ll have a beautiful girlfriend ready for you in no time.”

I retreated into the bedroom and shut the door. Burning with humiliation, I put on the pads, then the evening gown and wig. After that, I followed my husband out to have my makeup done.