"President Tang, it’s your turn to play."
Tang Shaosheng indifferently withdrew his gaze, absent-mindedly picking up a mahjong tile.
"Double happiness with one shot!"
The woman sitting next to him pouted her red lips, "Darling, you seem off tonight!"
Tang Shaosheng kept a straight face without speaking, stood up and said to the woman, "Keep playing, I need to use the restroom."
He picked up his phone and walked to the restroom, standing by the window. Looking at the white figure downstairs, he took out his phone and sent a message.
She downstairs glanced at her bag, aware of the message, but didn’t hurry to check it. Slowly, she opened her bag and took out her phone.
The message was brief, just two words: Go in.
She glanced at it, didn’t reply, and just turned off the screen.
She hadn’t complied with his demand, had agreed to wait for him; did he really need to specify a spot for her to stand obediently still?
She wasn’t that obedient.
She always felt that what he needed wasn’t a wife, but a robot that obeyed everything he said.
From the beginning, she had noticed when she obeyed him, he treated her well, but once she defied him, he would handle it extremely.
The incident where he took her voice away because she insisted on singing was a prime example.
Tang Shaosheng stood by the window watching the unmoving woman sitting there; anger simmered within him, not even sure why he was so angry, but he particularly disliked her disobedience.
He put away his phone, walked out, threw a bank card at the woman, then picked up his coat: "I have something to attend to, have fun."
Seeing that he had left the bank card, the group happily let him go: "Alright, we won’t see you out then."
Circumventing the bustling hall, he walked straight to the path outside, probably annoyed by mosquitoes, she scratched her ankle.
"You won’t die from that!" Tang Shaosheng said irritably as he walked by.
Ziyan turned her head and saw him, then stood up.
He seemed very hot, tossing the coat he carried on his arm to her, and walked towards his car.
Ziyan was indeed a bit cold, but she didn’t wear his coat, just carried it, following him.
Wondering why he ended the night so early.
He drove the car to her apartment building and followed her upstairs.
He treated this place as his own, instructing while taking off his shirt, "Go run a bath for me."
Ziyan dropped her bag, turned around and left the room, filling the small bathtub with water.
When he entered, wearing nothing, she quickly glanced at him then blushed and turned away, walking out of the bathroom.
Tang Shaosheng suddenly grabbed her, closed the bathroom door, pushed her into the bathtub, water immediately soaking her clothes, the white fabric clinging tightly to her body, faintly revealing the skin underneath.
He stepped in and quickly lost all reason.
Ziyan was accustomed to his habits, but today she felt an unusual pain in her lower abdomen, desperately pushing him away, feeling very uncomfortable, yet unable to articulate.
Tang Shaosheng initially thought it was her normal resistance and ignored it.
Gradually, her body began to weaken, and the struggle lessened. Amidst Tang Shaosheng’s movement, he noticed the fluctuating water seemingly dyed red, and only then did he stop his actions.
The color of the water wasn’t like the slight red from menstruation; he felt an incredible thought cross his mind and asked her incredulously, his voice trembling and hoarse: "...Are you pregnant?"
She seemed to be in too much pain and had already lost consciousness, limp in the water like life had left her.
Tang Shaosheng hurriedly pulled her out of the water, unable to describe his feelings about such thoughts.
He had always forced her to take birth control pills, but now, suspecting that she might be pregnant, and that the child might not be saved due to his recent [rough] [violence], he felt a bit heartbroken.
Or rather, he hoped this child could be kept, as that would add another connection between him and her.
Moreover, he didn’t know what life would be like after having children; perhaps it could be wonderful?
He quickly dressed himself, wrapped her in his coat, immediately went downstairs, and drove her to the Hospital.
The doctor’s words left him unsure how to feel.
She was indeed pregnant, but she hadn’t even noticed the arrival of the child before it had already left them.
He didn’t tell Ziyan, but she might have already guessed it.
A woman’s attachment to a child is far deeper than a man’s, so after this incident, it seemed like she didn’t want to re-live such a tragedy involving another life. Every time after the event, no matter how tired she was from being tormented, she would immediately get up and take the morning-after pill.
He no longer forced her to take it, even considering having a child that belonged to them, but seeing how much she wanted to sever ties with him, he wasn’t ready to accept a child either.
He feared that the child, if born, would live an unhappy life like himself.
He couldn’t truly understand his own heart, couldn’t grasp his feelings towards Ziyan, didn’t know if it was love, only knew that he wanted her to obey him, did not want to see her intimately with other men, and would get upset and even angry facing her indifference.
Sometimes he didn’t want to lash out at her, but what he did was completely opposite to what he felt inside, always yelling at her, unable to learn gentleness.
Seeing her being blatantly pursued by that photographer, he felt helpless, not knowing how to retain her if one day she insisted on leaving.
He couldn’t utter those pleading words.
Though he cared for and felt pained for her, he always ended up saying the opposite to hurt her; it seemed, between them had formed a pattern—yelling when angry, followed by the silent treatment.
She seemed not to care at all, perhaps even hoping he would not appear again; he dallied amid romantic pursuits, yet never learned how to coax a woman, only watching her walk further away.
Even when faced with her hateful glare, defiantly looking at him, he would raise his hand against her.
The fourth time she proposed a divorce was the morning after he had hit her; she filed for divorce, citing domestic violence, which he got withdrawn using connections.
Then their relationship gradually worsened, she would feel fearful seeing him, even avoiding him; if he was beside her at night, she wouldn’t be able to sleep.
At meals, she wouldn’t even glance at him, hastily eating before returning to her room, and his presence made her shiver.
But she stubbornly pretended not to be scared.
He disliked the Song Ziyuan who laughed without his presence.
They had been married for two years; her body bore countless scars, had miscarriages three times, all at his hands, it’s fair to say each child was personally taken away by him.
Perhaps he was too cruel, which made the gentle Song Ziyuan, hold a knife against his chest.
He still remembered how after he rushed towards the tip of her knife, she cried for him, hurriedly calling a doctor while crying sadly beside him.
But the next day, she handed him the divorce papers.