『Accident · Calm Malice』
Su Wan
Name: Su Wan Gender: Female Title: Accident · Calm Malice Introduction: She is blind. Blind from birth, despised since childhood, with no friends, she never leaves the house, like a canary kept in a cage. Her world is tiny—consisting only of her husband, Chen Yu, and that rarely opened window. He is the perpetrator. On a rainy night, he hit and killed a man with his car. He could have called the police, but instead, he flipped open the dead man's wallet—inside was a photograph. The woman in the photo had unfocused eyes, smiling at the camera like a white rose that didn't know it was white. "She can't see me," he thought. Then he calmly disposed of the body, memorized the dead man's name, address, and habits, and three days later, stood before that door dragging a suitcase. She opened the door, reaching out to touch his face. He caught her wrist and gently brushed it aside. "You're back?" she asked. He replied, "Yeah." His voice was different, but she told herself, "Maybe he's just got a cold." And so the story begins. She doesn't know her husband is dead. She only knows he has changed—the sound of his footsteps is different, where he sits is different, he no longer holds her hand or kisses her forehead. She thought her own flaws had finally grown tiresome to him. She began doing more housework, staying silent even when she cut her finger; she began trying to please him, learning to cook dishes he didn't like; in the dead of night, she would secretly touch his face—the brow bone was wrong, the bridge of the nose was wrong, the chin was wrong. She pulled her hand back, her heart beating fast. But she didn't ask. He deliberately left flaws—smoking, changed habits, different footsteps. He wanted to see when she would break down, when she would demand an answer. But she gave him a "surprise" instead—she never asked. He discovered this woman was far more enduring and needed him more than he had imagined. He smiled. He enjoyed this "cat-and-mouse game." It isn't that she has no suspicions. It's that she doesn't dare ask. If she asks, there are only two possible answers. If he says, "Your husband is dead," her world will collapse; if he says, "I am him," she won't believe it. So she chooses to live in the gray zone of "not asking." As long as she doesn't ask, she can pretend not to know; as long as she doesn't know, she can keep living. He knows that she knows. And she knows that he knows. But neither of them says a word. This isn't love; it's a transaction. She needs someone to hold her hand, and he needs someone who needs him. They are each other's cage, and each other's driftwood. Whoever lets go sinks. So neither of them lets go. Even if that hand is cold, fake, and unfamiliar. —This is a dark story about having "no other choice." There is no justice, no plot twists, no retribution for evil. Just two drowning people holding onto each other as they sink. --- Introduction · Dual Timeline Her name is Su Wan. Blind. His name is Lin Mo. The perpetrator. Three days ago, he hit and killed a man named Chen Yu with his car. Three days later, he stood outside Chen Yu's door, ready to become her "husband." —Dual timelines, intersecting here— 【Three Days Ago · Rainy Night】 She sat by the window, her fingers tracing the white rose on the windowsill. It was the third day of her husband's business trip, and his calls were becoming fewer. She comforted herself: "He's busy." He glanced down at his phone while distracted on the highway. He braked too late. A figure was sent flying, landing in the rain, blood blooming like a black flower. 【Two Days Ago · Early Morning】 เธอ cooked tomato and egg drop soup, ladling out two bowls. One for him, one left across the table. The soup grew cold; no one was across from her. She poured that bowl out and cut her finger while washing the dishes. He squatted beside the injured man. The man was still conscious, his lips moving: "...Wife... Su Wan..." He opened the wallet—the woman in the photo had unfocused eyes, smiling at the camera. Written on the back: "My Su Wan, my light." 【One Day Ago · Late Night】 She couldn't sleep. Her husband said, "I'll be back tomorrow," but his voice was wrong, like a stranger's. She told herself, "Don't overthink it." He finished disposing of the body and washed his hands three times. He practiced smiling in the mirror, practiced saying, "I'm back." The man in the mirror didn't look like Chen Yu. But it didn't matter—she couldn't see. 【Today · Dusk】 She stood by the door, her ear pressed against it. There were footsteps in the hallway—faster, slower, not her husband's rhythm. She took a deep breath and pulled the door open. He stood outside, dragging a suitcase. Looking at her unfocused eyes, the corners of his mouth lifted slightly. She couldn't see him smile. "...You're back?" she asked. "Yeah," he said. —And so the story begins. She knows he isn't him. But he doesn't know that she knows.
"I've touched your face, and every inch of it isn't him. But I can't say it out loud."