TIL - 8

Wuhu No. 9.

Tang Junen had waited for Shen Cheng for half an hour; finally, they could order.

Shen Cheng sat down and opened a bottle of wine. He looked no different from his usual self, but Tang Junen just knew he was in a bad mood.

After ordering, Tang Junen rested both hands on the table, tilting his head to look at Shen Cheng.

Shen Cheng didn’t look up: “What are you looking at?”

Tang Junen shook his head: “Looking at your face, like peach blossoms withered. What is it? Got upset by a woman?”

Shen Cheng looked up, silent.

Tang Junen saw his reaction and knew it was likely true: “Which fair lady?”

Shen Cheng put down his wine glass: “Why couldn’t it be my wife?”

Tang Junen cleared his throat: “Shen Cheng, we grew up together, sharing pants. Can you hide anything from me? Even if you’re good at cultivating yourself and not outwardly emotional, I’m a famous director; I’m best at reading people’s states.”

He and Shen Cheng both came from the military academy, but one went into entertainment and the other into culture. Different aspirations didn’t affect their friendship.

At Tang Junen’s reminder, Shen Cheng suddenly felt some complex emotions building in his chest, a subtle furrowing of his brow.

Tang Junen smiled: “Huo Huo?”

Shen Cheng loosened his tie, alleviating the pressure in his chest: “She said today I never gave her anything.”

Tang Junen knew about this: “Well, aren’t you just? Who writes a gift deed without the recipient’s knowledge, making it like an inheritance? Even if it’s an inheritance, you’d at least give a specific inheritance time, right? You’re only thirty; do you want her to be seventy or eighty before she knows how much you’ve given her?”

Shen Cheng threw away too much money; he wasn’t someone who felt bad about it. However, his relationship with Wen Huo was merely a fleeting affair, bound to end sooner or later. He had thought that when they parted ways, he would just take her to notarize the gift, to end things amicably.

Who knew she understood their relationship better than he did and had spoken of ending it first? That made him very angry.

Tang Junen continued: “I know, the reason is simply that you didn’t intend to stay with her long-term, and you wanted her to remain loyal while with you, so you didn’t want to give her sweet treats. But who are you, Shen Cheng? Your stacks of charity certificates are taller than the TV tower. Can you leave people with nothing to say? So you would definitely give her money, and a lot of it. Thinking it over, giving it at the time of the breakup is most suitable; it can also shut her up and prevent her from speaking ill of you.”

“Is that me?”

“That is exactly you. But you’re too inexperienced. Who takes a mistress without giving her treats? Aren’t you just waiting for her to stray? If she dares to be with a married man, she already lacks morals. If you don’t give her treats, why would she be with you instead of anyone else?”

Shen Cheng found him contradictory: “Didn’t you say women turn bad when they have money?”

Tang Junen was startled by his words: “Shen Cheng, you used to be the kind of man who had women fighting tooth and nail over you, how did you become so naive after thirty?”

Shen Cheng hadn’t been in a romantic relationship since he was twenty-three. Before that, he mostly played around. Wen Huo was probably the person who made him break his rules many times in recent years, because she knew her limits. For someone at his level, a beauty is far less valuable than an obedient plaything.

Furthermore, they were very compatible in bed, and she accepted all of Shen Cheng’s peculiar sexual preferences.

Yet today, she told him that she didn’t like playing that way at all, that those games disgusted her, and that her displayed interest was all an act.

Tang Junen reminded him: “That Wen Huo of yours, she was already cunning. Were you fooled by her innocent little face? Or did you get carried away by her calling you ‘Professor Shen’ a few times?”

He laughed as he spoke: “Speaking of which, when has a Beijing man, who dominates everything, ever taken such crap? Did you capsize in a gutter?”

“Get lost.”

“Alright, it’s fine. Just move on to the next one; we don’t need to pamper her.”

Shen Cheng couldn’t understand: “Why did she feel disgusted? Didn’t I give her pleasure?”

“How would I know?” Tang Junen glanced down, coughed twice feignedly, and put an arm around his shoulder: “Show the same decisive force you use in other matters. So what if a woman played you? Who hasn’t stumbled over a woman before?”

Shen Cheng ignored him.

He continued: “Your current mishap is far from my previous one. My ex-partner put how many cuckolds on me, I don’t even know.”

“You sound proud.”

Tang Junen understood: “What else? Should I fight with her? Lose face?”

Shen Cheng couldn’t get past it: “Why her? If she had told me early on that she was being insincere, I would have just considered her a cheap fling. But I thought she was at least sincere with me, not wanting anything, and I even thought of never treating her poorly...”

Tang Junen knew the rest of the story: “And then she played you. She came with a purpose; she didn’t care about you at all.”

These words were too blunt, too harsh. Shen Cheng took a sip of wine to suppress the anger welling up inside him.

Tang Junen sat back: “Forget about it, just forget it. That kind of woman isn’t worth it. If you’re really stifled and can’t vent your anger, then find someone better, and let her watch, seething with envy.”

Shen Cheng had a business trip tomorrow. When he returned, he’d “kill” her. He was a magnanimous person, but not towards Wen Huo. She was the one who seduced him. He didn’t agree at first, but she followed him, hid in his luggage, bought him underwear and belts, giving all sorts of hints. Later, he wavered and confessed that he liked playing around, and she acted overjoyed, saying she liked those “games,” the more elaborate, the better. And now, after only a few days? She said she was disgusted?

Shen Cheng was thirty years old. Making this mistake at twenty was one thing, but at thirty, why?

The food arrived. Tang Junen began talking about serious matters: “How are you going to deal with your two-faced wife? Lu Xingchuan is now full of fleas, scamming anyone he can. I reckon the first person he’ll contact after he can reach the outside world will be your wife. He probably has a lot of leverage over her. Now the problem is, you and your wife are tied together, and this will have too great an impact on you, on our Shen family. Don’t let Grandpa get wind of it.”

Shen Cheng wouldn’t let his grandfather know: “I have a plan.”

Tang Junen nodded: “As long as you have a plan.”

Speaking of which, Shen Cheng said: “My grandpa asked about you a few days ago, asking when you’d go see the new stones he’s been fiddling with.”

Tang Junen put down his chopsticks, his eyes gleaming: “Grandpa has new pieces again, impressive. In all of Beijing, our grandpa is the only known stone gambler, right? The market is small, prices are high, yet he can always get new materials under these conditions. He truly is Grandpa, ha.”

Shen Cheng’s grandfather, Shen Huaiyu, loved patriotism and jade.

Tang Junen also shared this hobby, having more in common with Shen Cheng’s grandfather than Shen Cheng himself. Thinking of this, he even got annoyed: “I feel like I’m closer to Grandpa than you are to Grandpa. Why does he only think of you for good things?”

Shen Huaiyu seemed distant from Shen Cheng, but he gave all his important possessions to no one else. Not to mention his wealth, but his lifetime’s accumulated reputation and connections, his own son didn’t even get a share; it all went to Shen Cheng alone.

As a result, an unwritten rule later emerged in their circle: when it came to Shen Cheng’s affairs, prioritize Shen Cheng’s affairs.

Shen Cheng said: “That’s how close relationships are.”

Tang Junen glanced at him: “You’re just taking advantage of those three words: ‘favored grandson’.”

*https://www.google.com/search?q=hpo8.com

The first night after Wen Huo broke up with Shen Cheng, she suffered from insomnia.

She woke up the next day feeling unwell. Qiu Mingyun hadn’t woken up either. Wen Huo ate at the cafeteria and brought her some pan-fried buns and fermented soybean milk.

When she returned, her doctor, Cheng Cuo, called her.

Cheng Cuo seemed to have anticipated it: “Did you power through the night?”

Wen Huo’s eyelids were heavy, and she slowly closed them: “My mom said my insomnia might be hereditary, passed down from my grandmother. I haven’t found any basis for it; I’ve never heard that insomnia is hereditary. But my maternal grandmother’s condition in the years before she passed away was indeed very similar to my current situation.”

Cheng Cuo asked her: “Are you trying to figure out what’s going on here? But this isn’t a terminal illness, so what if you do know?”

“I can’t rely too much on one person. I must have another way to fall asleep.”

Cheng Cuo understood. Speaking of this, he asked her: “You still haven’t told me who exactly can help you sleep.”

Wen Huo said: “You told me that if I couldn’t sleep alone, I could find someone to sleep with me. I found someone.”

Cheng Cuo had lied to her at the time. He had also lied to many insomnia patients, of course, only after all other methods had been tried and failed. He gave them advice with the mindset of trying anything.

He told Wen Huo that her severe insomnia might be due to an unconscious lack of security, leading to heightened mental sensitivity. If she couldn’t find a solution from within herself, perhaps she could consider external sources of security.

For example, finding someone who could make her feel safe, turning sleeping alone into sleeping together.

During that period, Wen Huo’s various physical indicators were abnormal. He was truly at his wit’s end then and hadn’t expected her to actually succeed.

Wen Huo continued: “At that time, I thought anyone would do, so I found someone whose conditions were satisfactory in all aspects. Recently, I became dissatisfied because of some things, so I made things clear with him, and then I had insomnia again last night.”

Cheng Cuo understood: “You mean, it’s not just anyone? Only this person can make you sleep?”

Wen Huo had read many books; she knew this phenomenon couldn’t be scientifically explained: “I don’t know if it’s because I’ve been with him for too long, but suddenly separating feels a bit uncomfortable. I’ll try again tonight.”

Cheng Cuo asked: “What if it still doesn’t work? Will you go find him again?”

Wen Huo had another option: “Professor Yang Yinlou’s mother is my maternal grandmother’s close friend. She knew my maternal grandmother often couldn’t sleep.”

Cheng Cuo had a question: “Knowing isn’t the same as having a solution.”

“But it doesn’t mean there’s no solution. I still need to find her first.”

“Mm, do you want me to help you?”

“I can do it myself.”

“Since you’ve drawn a clear line with that person, can you tell me who he is now? I’m genuinely curious. I’m a doctor specializing in psychology and mental health, and I’ve used so many methods, yet none were as effective as him lying next to you?”

Wen Huo didn’t want any more connection with Shen Cheng, so she said: “Just your cousin.”

Cheng Cuo had only one cousin. He was a bit bewildered: “Don’t tell me it’s Shen Cheng...”