chapter 8

Li Wei was Mu Yebai’s first love, the white moonlight he regretted missing.

I only found out about this half a year after I married Mu Yebai.

I married Mu Yebai in the second semester of my senior year. Although I had latched onto the big tree that was Mu Yebai, the favoritism I experienced growing up made me feel that it was safer to rely on myself for everything.

So I refused Mu Yebai’s mother’s request for me to be a full-time housewife, accompanying her shopping and strolling, and instead went to intern at a company.

The internship was tough. My supervisor was sycophantic, and among the interns in my group, there was a rich second-generation kid. As a result, I had to do the work of two people, while most of the credit went to that rich kid.

Mu Yebai was outstanding, both in looks and ability.

I had never been in a relationship before, but after marrying him and becoming husband and wife in every sense, I couldn’t help but fall for him.

So all the grievances I suffered during my internship would dissipate whenever I saw Mu Yebai.

At that time, I thought, with such an excellent husband, what was there to be sad about?

That night, after working overtime at the company until late, I came home to find Mu Yebai already in the bathroom taking a shower.

He often traveled for work and rarely came home. Every time he did, he was polite but distant with me.

But I was still happy whenever he came back.

Nervously, I sat on the bed waiting for him to finish his shower.

While I was waiting, his phone, which he had casually tossed on the bed, started ringing.

The sound of running water from the bathroom continued. I walked to the door and called out to him, wanting to let him know his phone was ringing, but he didn’t respond.

I picked up the phone and saw it was an overseas number. Mu Yebai had extensive business dealings, and when he took me to gatherings, he introduced me to many foreign business partners.

I thought this number must be one of his business contacts.

I considered myself his legitimate wife and believed I had the right to answer the call for him.

But when I answered, a girl’s coquettish, drunken voice came from the other end.

I was stunned and suspiciously asked, “Excuse me, who are you?”

But the girl reacted even more strongly than I did:

“Who are you? Why do you have Yebai’s phone?”

She called him Yebai-a name I hadn’t dared to utter even in moments of passion during our half year of marriage-yet she said it so naturally.

I steadied myself and replied, “Hello, I’m Mu Yebai’s wife. May I ask what you need from him?”

The girl on the other end seemed to have heard something unbelievable. Just as I was about to say more, the sound of water in the bathroom stopped.

Mu Yebai rushed out wearing only a bath towel and snatched the phone from my hand.

I remember the cold look in his eyes, as if he were looking at a stranger.

“Why did you touch my phone?”