Yan Chuan pressed the power button, and the screen lit up. Although it was a bit slow, it was still usable.
He found a charging cable and plugged his phone in while checking for any new messages. Previously, while at the apartment script, Yan Chuan had seen a message from his “husband” in his message inbox. After answering his husband’s question about what he wanted to eat, he hid in the bedroom as he heard footsteps moving away, opening the inbox.
There were two unread messages.
The first message was timestamped at ten o’clock last night, the same time he entered here. Yan Chuan blinked, noticing the sender was unknown and not in his contacts.
He hesitated before opening the message.
“Are you free tonight? Should I come find you?”
That was the content of the first message.
It was vague and confusing. Yan Chuan furrowed his brow and read the sentence over and over again.
Then he opened the next message, checking the timestamp again and realizing it was from half an hour ago, around noon today.
This timing felt a bit too close; Yan Chuan frowned and opened the message.
“I’m almost there.”
“Today, we can resolve it.”
With that simple sentence, the unidentified sender told Yan Chuan that they were about to arrive.
Arrive where?
Yan Chuan couldn’t believe it; a troubling thought surfaced in his mind.
Could this sender be one of his “lovers”?
When they asked him last night if he was free, he didn’t reply, so today they decided to come directly to solve his “husband”?
Yan Chuan’s fingers trembled as he gripped the screen.
Seeing this message half an hour late left him anxious; the person on the other end claimed they were almost there, which meant they could arrive at any moment.
Yan Chuan didn’t think the “lover” on the other end didn’t know where he currently lived.
Feeling nervous, his heart raced, and his breathing quickened.
He felt he was facing a dilemma that was hard to solve.
Known information:
1. He has a lover, at least two, one of whom could appear at any moment to help him deal with his husband.
2. His husband was unaware of this, cheerfully going out to buy ingredients to cook.
3. He needed to salvage the situation; he couldn’t let his husband know about his infidelity, nor could he allow his husband to die.
4. He had no way of leaving the apartment.
Listing this information in his mind made Yan Chuan’s fingers grip his old phone tightly enough to turn pale.
Wasn’t this a predicament that rendered him powerless?
If he could leave the apartment, he could go outside and prevent the lover from meeting his husband, and he could firmly inform his husband that he was returning to a family life, thus severing ties with the lover.
Then he could just wait at home for his husband to return, pretending nothing had happened, and continue their life together.
Alternatively, if he had discovered the message earlier, he could have sent a message to the lover saying, “My husband is home, don’t come,” reminding them that his legitimate spouse was there and discouraging an affair, allowing him to slowly end things.
But the truth was, Yan Chuan had no way to leave the apartment, nor had he been able to tell the lover not to come.
He could only stay there obediently, awaiting whoever it was, husband or lover, knocking at the door.
Yan Chuan was…
Might as well let him step into the next script!
Panic wouldn’t change the situation; Yan Chuan took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.
He reviewed the information once more.
His husband was still around, meaning his scheme with the lover to harm his husband hadn’t come to fruition yet—there was still a chance to make things right.
And… Yan Chuan bit his lip.
Could this “lover” who messaged him be one of them?
Could they enter the same penal space with him?
After waiting about ten minutes, footsteps could be heard outside the door.
The visitor didn’t hesitate long at the door and soon pulled out a key, opening the door himself.
With a key, it should be his legitimate husband.
Thinking this, Yan Chuan stepped out of the bedroom and indeed saw the familiar figure of his husband.
He breathed a sigh of relief.
Seeing that familiar figure, he was unsure whether to feel delighted or scared, so he walked up and called out to him.
“You’re back…” Yan Chuan tried to take the groceries from the man’s hands to help him with cooking, but the man raised his hand and didn’t pass him the ingredients he had just bought.
The tall, handsome man tied on a floral apron that didn’t quite fit his appearance, turned to Yan Chuan, and said, “I’ll handle it; you don’t need to do anything.”
With that, Yan Chuan could only obediently sit in the living room, occasionally glancing towards the door.
“You were back so quickly,” Yan Chuan tried to strike up a conversation with his husband, half-jokingly asking, “Didn’t you see anyone on the way?”
The man in the kitchen, washing vegetables, responded.
“I ran into a colleague,” he recalled, “They looked like they were in a hurry, but they don’t live here; why did they suddenly come here?”
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