Chapter 6 Taking Advantage of Someone's Misfortune
After finishing his long and rambling speech, Qian Zhaoye seemed to have vented his anger.
He unbuttoned his shirt, grabbed a glass of wine, and took a big gulp. "Qu He, your domineering and suspicious nature is making me feel too suffocated."
The air was eerily quiet.
Qian Zhaoye took out his cigarette case and lit a cigarette.
The smoke obscured his face.
The face she had loved for seven years vanished in that instant.
His words just now completely shattered our seven-year relationship...
Qu He sat silently by the bed, listening to his "accusations" against her and watching this ridiculous farce, feeling as if her soul had been ripped away.
So that's what Qian Zhaoye thought.
At this moment, she had to admit that Qian Zhaoye was...
It's rotten!
I just don't know if it was rotten from the beginning, or if it gradually became rotten.
As the cigarette burned out, Qian Zhaoye approached and looked down at Qu He, who was sitting on the edge of the bed.
As if he hadn't said those words before, he put on a fake gentleness again, stroking her face with his fingertips, like he was taming a cat.
"Ahe, don't disappoint me again. Calm down and think about what I just said. I'm leaving now."
After saying that, he grabbed his suit jacket from the bed and walked out of the bedroom.
Hearing the door close outside, Qu He finally couldn't hold on any longer and collapsed to the ground.
Qian Zhaoye, you really have forgotten that you were the one who proposed to me three years ago!
It was you! Kneeling on the ground, holding a ring, begging me!
Beg me to marry you.
You said, "Ahe, marry me, I want to be taken care of by you for the rest of my life!"
But you've forgotten...
Are all men like this, always forgetting the vows they made?
They never admit their mistakes, always resorting to sophistry and shifting blame onto women.
They never feel guilty; they only think you're too capable, too assertive, too greedy, and want too much...
The woman, however, foolishly accepted the promises he made when his adrenaline was surging, disregarding everything else, and in the end, could only torture her own body and soul again and again.
Outside the window, a sudden night wind rose, whipping up raindrops that pattered against the glass.
Qu He slowly removed her wedding ring from her ring finger, her fingertip trembling slightly.
Just like three years ago, when Qian Zhaoye put it on her, she was so excited that she trembled.
The ring fell to the floor with a clatter.
"Qian Zhaoye, from now on, we have nothing to do with each other!"
After a long silence, Qu He wiped away her tears, picked up her phone, and dialed a number: "Hello, is this 110? I'm reporting someone for drunk driving, the license plate number is..."
...
Night falls.
Beishan Villa.
Zhuangzhai.
Inside the study, the only sound was the soft rustling of the brush pen across the Xuan paper.
The Jin Jun Mei tea on the tea table boiled again, releasing a fragrant aroma.
The dim yellow light cast shadows on Zhuang Bieyan's handsome profile as he held a sheep-hair brush and wrote neat rows of regular script on gold-flecked Xuan paper.
Article 305: Too much talk leads to mistakes... Article 311: Do not associate with those who are not virtuous... Article 318: Once a decision is made, it should not be changed because of what others say...
Zhuang Bieyan's writing suddenly paused, as the scene from the wedding dress shop that afternoon reappeared before his eyes.
Her awkwardness as she accidentally fell into his arms... the faint red mole on her waist... and the reddened corners of her eyes...
The pen moved faster and faster, and the handwriting gradually revealed a suppressed impatience.
He closed his eyes, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, and the pressure on his pen grew heavier and heavier, as if it would pierce through the paper in the next second.
But it seems that only in this way can I suppress all those thoughts.
"uncle."
A child's voice suddenly rang out.
Four-year-old Zhuangxi walked in with her hair down, wearing a strawberry bear pajama, and carrying a pink Labubu doll. There were still some cookie crumbs stuck to the hem of her pajama.
She walked to the other side of the desk, stood on tiptoe to look at the things on it, and said, shaking her head, "Uncle, have you made a mistake again?"
Zhuang Bieyan didn't stop writing, but merely frowned slightly: "Why do you say that?"
"My mother told me." Xiao Zhuangxi tilted her head and her round eyes darted around. "My mother said that my uncle always copied the family precepts because he made a mistake."
She tilted her head as if recalling something, "Last time it was because Uncle didn't listen to Grandpa and went to find a wife for Xi'er, and the time before that it was because Mom said..."
“Your mother talks too much.” Zhuang Bieyan interrupted Xiao Zhuangxi, but his hands did not stop moving.
Xiao Zhuangxi pinched the doll's ears and stomped her foot lightly. "No way! Mom said that Uncle has a little monster inside him."
As she spoke, she made a monster gesture that looked fierce but was actually quite cute.
After a while, she frowned again, her face full of doubt, "But why have I never seen Xi'er even once?"
Zhuang Bieyan's hand holding the sheep-hair brush froze in mid-air. The ink spread into a black dot on the gold-flecked Xuan paper. He stared at the ink stain for several seconds before continuing to write.
Little Zhuang Xi was at the age of curiosity. Not hearing the answer he wanted, he simply walked around the desk and went to Zhuang Bieyan's side. His chubby little hands gripped the edge of the table and rested his chin on it, his eyes fixed on the words on the table.
"Wow, Uncle, you copied so many this time!"
The paper on the table was thicker than the strawberry bear stickers in her room, covered with dense black writing that made her dizzy.
Xiao Zhuangxi just started kindergarten and recently learned some new Chinese characters, so he knows a little about simple characters and numbers.
She shook her little head, and Zhuang Bieyan read it aloud as he wrote, "Article 321 of the Zhuang family precepts: One must not... desert... desert..."
"Huh?" Little Zhuang Xi's round eyes were full of doubt, and her chubby little hands tapped in the air several times, her eyes full of clear curiosity.
"Uncle, what does 'leaving' mean?"
Despite watching her uncle copy the family precepts so many times, Xiao Zhuangxi still couldn't remember a single one. After all, her mother said that no one in the Zhuang family would take the precepts seriously except for her uncle.
Zhuang Bieyan: "This character is not pronounced as 'walk,' but as 'chance.' The last character is pronounced as 'dangerous.'"
Xiao Zhuangxi didn't seem to understand, she just said "Oh".
After copying the last family precept, Zhuang Bieyan put down his pen, looked at the four characters on the paper, and said in a low voice: "The 321st precept of the Zhuang family: Do not take advantage of others in their time of need."
He repeated it over and over, emphasizing each word, as if to warn himself, 'Never take advantage of someone in distress.'
Despite this, the turmoil in my heart was still hard to quell.
A night breeze swept in through the window.
He blew on a corner of the Xuan paper, then took a celadon paperweight and pressed it down, his fingertips stroking the paper intentionally or unintentionally.
He lowered his eyes, staring at the words on the paper, lost in thought for a long time.
"Uncle?" Xiao Zhuangxi yawned, her hand holding the Labubu doll almost slipping out of her grasp. She rubbed her sleepy eyes.
"Uncle, you've read it so many times."
Zhuang Bieyan then came to his senses and found that little Zhuang Xi was already so sleepy that he was slumped over.
He immediately bent down and picked her up. Little Zhuangxi clung to his shoulder like a koala, muttering something under her breath.
Zhuang Bieyan removed the hair from her mouth and asked, "Where is your mother?"
Little Zhuangxi yawned, nodding his head repeatedly, "Mom...Mom went out..."
She mumbled in a daze, mimicking the tone of adults she usually spoke, "Mom and Aunt Yu went out... to have some fun."
Zhuang Bieyan frowned.
He took out his phone and dialed the number [Zhuang Liuyue] from his contacts.
He hung up the phone when the energetic DJ dance music ringtone was on its second loop.
Looking at Xiao Zhuangxi, who was already asleep in his arms, Zhuang Bieyan sighed softly, walked out of the study, and headed towards her bedroom.
"One must not...take advantage of someone in distress, one must not...take advantage of someone in distress...one must not..."
Little Zhuangxi was already fast asleep, but he was still mumbling to himself.
Zhuang Bieyan carefully placed her on the bed, smoothed her stray hairs, tucked her in, and then quietly left.
In the study.
The night breeze once again stirred up the Xuan paper on the table.
Beneath the celadon paperweight, a corner of the Xuan paper filled with family precepts was blown up, revealing the paper underneath.
The handwriting is sharp and messy, unlike the neat handwriting when copying family precepts.
Those who allow a pearl to be tarnished are a different matter.
The ink had seeped deeply into the paper, especially the last stroke, which almost tore through the paper.
A gentle night breeze was blowing.
The German irises in the yard swayed gently in the moonlight.
With unspoken thoughts lingering in their hearts.
It fell silently.
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