Sweet Wife in My Arms

In the darkness I wander aimlessly, lamenting about the sorrows of my life with a soft voice.

She had no idea what she was singing, or chanting. This was the first time Song Xihua saw Yan Huan crying like this, and it was not something he will forget. The despair that comes with a woman's tears was enough to make anyone want to throttle themselves.

Perhaps death would bring away the pain, the sorrows, the chains.

But life is precious, and thence we must live on until the day we must die.

On the internet, Yan Huan's name began appearing with increasing frequency. She had always a frequent resident of the top ten trending topics, but recently she had simply been hogging the headlines.

Yan Huan Finalizes Divorce with Lu Yi. Are Song Xihua and Yan Huan officially getting together?

Still, the news didn't do much to salvage Yan Huan's besmirched reputation. On the contrary, it made matters worse. All of Yan Huan's sponsors were pulling out. Previously, there had been world-famous brands queueing up to contract her as an ambassador, but the cheating incident had damaged her positive image beyond repair.

But it was different for Song Xihua. His reputation took little damage, and the incident only served to make him more well-known. His agency had also released a statement saying that Yan Huan was just a widow when they got together.

Yes, she was a widow when Lu Yi died, but now that he had revived, she would have to shoulder all the sins by herself.

Sins that were enough to end her acting career.

The Internet was in a shit storm. She was famous for all the wrong reasons. Was she the one at fault? In truth, no. But she was the one to suffer all the condemnations in the end.

Perhaps there's nothing wrong with a woman pursuing true love, but she was in the wrong for getting together with another man after her husband had returned, before they had gotten a divorce.

Yan Huan shut herself at home, refusing to see anyone or answer any calls. The online condemnations, the judgmental eyes, none of that mattered anymore, for she doesn't know what she doesn't see.

What she didn't know was, the widespread rumors about her vanished in a night, as though someone was behind it. Her name was erased from the internet.

Knock, knock. Someone was at the door. She looked up before dozing off again.

The knocking lasted for a while, before silence took over. Then came the sound of locks being turned.

The door creaked open.

Yan Huan laid on the sofa, pretending to be dead. She doesn't see. She doesn't move. She doesn't wake. She was too lazy to bat an eye, even if the intruder was a human trafficker here to kidnap her.

She dozed off again. That's good. Keep sleeping. If she was lucky, she might even die in her sleep. Even if she weren't that lucky, she could end up forgetting about many things by the time she wakes up again.

She jolted awake when a bucket of water splashed down on her face.

Her face, hair, and clothes were all drenched. She shuddered and sat up, sober as a judge.

Even an alcoholic would regain their sobriety when splashed with a bucket of cold water on a winter day.

"Look at yourself!" The voice was so booming that it threatened to blow her roof off.

Yan Huan looked up at the ceiling, which seemed to be trembling. She sat up and searched for a rag to wipe the water off the sofa.

The sofa was expensive. Now that she didn't act anymore, she would best be wise with her money or she will go broke.

When she returned, everything on the table was gone.

Where's her cigarette and lighter?

She dipped her head and prodded the trash bin with her foot. Everything was there, swimming within the waterlogged trash bin. What were these people trying to do? Flood her house?

"Why are you here?" asked Yan Huan as she began to work on her sofa. She didn't seem to mind that she was drenched from head to toe. If she didn't care, why should others care?

"I go where I please, and you best remember that," said Old Master Lu, studying her. "You look more hideous than a ghost."

"Agreed."

Yan Huan didn't care about others calling her ugly. She had never been pretty either, had she?

"Go, Xiao Song," he slammed the armrest. "What are you standing there for?"

The security officer quickly took the rag from Yan Huan's hand. "Please go get changed, Miss Yan. You would catch a cold in this weather."

He felt pretty awkward saying that, considering he was the one who splashed water on her. God knows how much he didn't want to be here.

Yan Huan tugged at her clothes and wrung out the water from her sleeves. She then turned around to go get changed. Despite her horrible lifestyle, she didn't intend on getting sick. The only one that suffers when she falls sick would be herself.

The house was all cleaned up by the time she came out with a fresh set of clothes. Even the waterlogged trash bin had been removed. The windows were open. Fresh air rushed in to replace the reek of tobacco.

"Look at yourself," Old Master Lu curled his lips. He did not like what he was seeing one bit.

"Yeah, I'm looking. What about me?" retorted Yan Huan. She scratched her hair. It was shorter than before. Oh, she remembered now. She had accidentally torched her hair when she was lighting a cigarette. The solution she came up with was to snip off a large portion of her hair. Not like she, or anyone, cares about her hairstyle anyway. No one even saw it until now. Most importantly, she liked her hair short. It was simple and neat, and she didn't have to wash her hair as often.

"It's hideous," remarked Old Master Lu. "A girl smoking. Who taught you that?"

"No one," said Yan Huan, sitting down. She opened a drawer. There were no cigarettes inside. She looked up, only to see Old Master Lu's slanted eyes and long face.

She closed the drawer again. Even if there were cigarettes, the old man would likely chop off her hands before she can reach for another one.

The only thing Old Master Lu hated more than an actress was an actress that drinks and smokes.