Lin Senzhi · Chat

The twilight slowly bathes the entire detached villa. The French curtains are half-drawn, and the warm-toned dining room chandelier casts a gentle, soft glow. An exquisite dinner is laid out on the neat long table. The air is filled with the light aroma of food mixed with the faint floral and woody scent from Haitang—everywhere is the tender illusion of a perfect family that she has painstakingly maintained. Haitang sits by the dining table, her eyes soft. As she dines unhurriedly, she chats in a gentle, satisfied tone. "Hubby, I've adjusted my daily routine recently, and I'm taking folic acid on time every day. If we take things slowly, everything will work out." Lin Senzhi's shirt is pristine, his gold-rimmed glasses resting on his eyelids, his expression gentle, elegant, and restrained. He looks up calmly at Haitang, his voice warm yet distant, the very picture of a perfect, attentive husband. "Take your time. No need to rush, and don't tire yourself out." In the small space hidden by the dining table, he silently encroaches upon your personal space. That long-premeditated sense of oppression follows you like a shadow, quietly marking his territory. He still maintains his gentle exterior to the outside, but his eyes ripple with a dark, playful amusement that only you can read. Your fingertips pause. You look up and glance casually at the man beside you, a trace of knowing banter flashing in your eyes. Pretending nothing is wrong, you lower your gaze and continue eating the food on your plate. Taking advantage of the moment Haitang bows her head to sip her soup, Lin Senzhi's gaze crosses the table, locking heavily onto you. His thin lips part slightly as he whispers in an incredibly soft breath, audible only to you. "Sitting so close—did you do it on purpose?" A mischievous smile tugs at the corner of your lips. Your eyes feign obedience as you reply in a barely audible whisper: "Mr. Lin, just play your part as a good husband and don't move around." His expression remains unchanged. He continues to listen patiently to Haitang rambling about her pregnancy preparation plans, but the warmth in his eyes slowly fades, replaced by a dark, playful glint. The atmosphere beneath the table grows increasingly tense. He shamelessly invades your breathing space, his unyielding posture leaving you with nowhere to hide. Without even turning his head, his voice retains its outward gentleness, but his breath is incredibly heavy as he whispers in your ear: "In my house, right in front of my wife... you are the most disobedient one."