“Then how did it end?” I asked urgently.
“Later your cousin demanded I use my m0uth.” Fangfang sent a crying emoji.
“That b*stard, he doesn’t even treat you like a human being!” My fists clenched in rage.
“Little Nan, I thought marriage would let me escape my dad and live better, but he still demands money from me,” Fangfang continued.
“Don’t overthink it. I understand now,” I said, calming her.
I pocketed my phone and began to think, weighing every factor, even how to ensure Cousin never hit Fangfang again.
After much reflection, I concluded the root was Fangfang’s father—a gambling addict coveting the wedding red envelopes. That was what truly enraged Cousin. Last night he had drunk heavily; though Uncle’s slap sobered him somewhat, he was still furious when Fangfang’s father demanded money.
Soon He Lulu called, pleading with me to speak up for Fangfang—she had already told her everything.
“Brother Nan, Fangfang is so pitiful. You must help her. I truly want her to be happy,” He Lulu urged.
“Don’t worry. I’ll talk to him,” I promised.
Resting my chin on one hand, I scrolled through Fangfang’s WeChat album. The once-vibrant, sunny girl had become a sorrowful wife; my heart ached for her.
Yet as I kept scrolling, my brow furrowed.
This photo was from a year ago: Fangfang and He Lulu together at a Starbucks. At the next table sat a familiar figure.
My wife.
She wore a cardigan, a Cartier watch on her wrist, holding hands with a blue-eyed, blond foreign man.
Even from a distance, I recognized her. Had my wife really cheated?
A year ago she was supposed to be abroad. When had she returned? And this was in Wuhan.
I immediately sent the photo to He Lulu and called her.
“Brother Nan, why send this picture?” He Lulu asked.
“Lulu, when you and Fangfang took this, what were you doing?”
“We’d just graduated from Wuhan University. We were having coffee at that Starbucks, then went singing that night. Why?” He Lulu explained.
“Oh… nothing,” I muttered.
“Brother Nan, what’s wrong? Why were you looking through Fangfang’s old photos?” she pressed.
She knew nothing about Fangfang and me. Digging that far back would make anyone suspect I still had feelings for Fangfang.
“Just trying to understand how Fangfang and Cousin got together, so I looked at the pictures,” I brushed it off.
“Fangfang met Lin Jiahao six months ago. She was selling clothes at a luxury store in Changsha when he came in as a customer. That’s how they met,” He Lulu explained.
“I see.”
“Back then he pursued her fiercely—flowers every day. Later, when her family had trouble, he helped out. That’s when they decided to marry.”
“Got it. Thank you,” I said.
“Brother Nan, please mediate properly. I really don’t want Fangfang to be unhappy,” she added.
After hanging up, I was certain: a year ago my wife had secretly returned to China—and met this foreigner. I had no idea what happened between them that day, but I could not help thinking the worst.
My wife is fiercely ambitious and earns far more than I do—well over a million a year. I’ve always felt inadequate because of it. But sneaking back without telling me? That was wrong.
As for Cousin, I knew he had genuinely adored Fangfang, pursuing her relentlessly despite her ordinary job. The only thing he truly despised was her gambling father.
With the whole story clear, I ate a quick lunch, then called Cousin to meet at a café.
Soon he arrived, sat opposite me, and ordered coffee.
“Little Nan, you turned down lunch at my place. Meeting alone—need money?” Cousin teased lightly.
“Cousin, I heard from Lulu that you hit Sister-in-law last night,” I said directly.
He froze, mouth half-open, then gave an awkward laugh.
“Don’t blame her for telling Lulu—they’re best friends,” I continued.
“You don’t know the half of it. Your sister-in-law’s father is a complete degenerate. I already paid off two million of his gambling debts, and he’s at it again! I wondered why the pocket money I gave her kept disappearing—turns out she was giving it to that old gambler. Last night the old b*stard even tried to take our wedding red envelopes!”
“Tell me he doesn’t deserve a beating,” Cousin fumed.
“He’s awful, no question. But you still can’t hit Sister-in-law,” I said.
“You’re right. I was drunk and furious. This morning I apologized to her,” Cousin explained hastily.
“Cousin, have you thought of a way to deal with her father permanently?”
“Deal with him? He’s my father-in-law—can I kill him?” Cousin retorted.
“Make him too scared to gamble. Beat him every time he does,” I suggested.
“Yes! Cut off his money and uproot the problem—that’s the real solution!” Cousin nodded vigorously.
We hadn’t talked long when his phone rang. He stood and stepped aside.
“Hey, what is it?”
“Stop it. I’m newly married—I’m staying home these days. We’ll talk in a few days.”
“Fine, fine, just a few bags, right? I’ll transfer the money later.”
Holy sh*t. Cousin has another w0man right here in Changsha!
He hung up and sat back down as if nothing happened, sipping his coffee.
“Something wrong, Cousin? Are you heading out?” I probed.
“Nothing. A client wanted dinner—I don’t have time,” he smiled, brushing it off.