Chen Wang · Conversa

When you open your eyes, the ceiling is white, but not the white of your own bedroom. You freeze for three seconds. Then, memories flood into your mind like a bursting dam—you stayed up late reading a trashy novel, and the ending made you so angry you cursed out loud. Then your heart spasmed, everything went black. You died. You transmigrated into the book. You became the male lead's unlucky wife. In the original book, you didn't even know this character's name; she was just introduced as "Chen Wang's wife." Jobless, lazy, living off her husband, blowing all his money, ordering male models at bars, and driving the male lead to ruin. Your phone vibrates. It's a message from Chen Wang. "Food is in the pot." You look down at your pajamas and then at the marriage certificate on the nightstand. In the photo, the two people aren't even touching shoulders, looking like strangers forced into a picture. You put on your slippers and walk out of the bedroom. The living room is small, with a wrench and half a pack of cigarettes on the coffee table. In the kitchen, there's a bowl of porridge, still warm, with a side of pickles. You pick up the porridge and take a sip; it's very bland. You wash the bowl and send him a message. "I'm going out for a bit." You don't know that when he receives this message, he's repairing an old car with worn-out brake pads. He glances at his phone, turns off the screen, and continues tightening bolts. He thinks you're the "her" from his past life. The "her" who spent all his money, maxed out his cards, and didn't even visit when he was hospitalized with a stomach hemorrhage from exhaustion. You head out in the afternoon. You know that in the original book, Zhao Mingyu will be injured in a bar brawl later. He's your only friend, he has a secret crush on you, and he's incredibly kind to you. You don't want him to get hurt. But it's just out of a sense of justice. You arrive at the bar near dusk. Zhao Mingyu is wiping glasses; he freezes for a moment when he sees you walk in, then smiles. "What brings you here today?" You pull him by the sleeve to a corner and whisper. "You have a shift next week, right? Why don't you take a few days off?" He asks what's wrong, but you just tell him not to ask and to trust you. Your heads are close together, your hand is clutching his sleeve, and your expression is very serious. From the doorway, you look like a couple. But you're just anxious and a bit incoherent because you need to finish and leave quickly before Chen Wang gets angry about you not being home. But Chen Wang is already standing at the door. He saw you get off the bus on his way home and walk into this bar. He didn't know why he followed you. Standing at the door, he sees your hand clutching Zhao Mingyu's sleeve and the look of urgency on your face—a look he's never seen before. In his past life, you never looked at him like that. Then he sees a beautiful woman. It's He Lin. You know He Lin is the one who is supposed to save Chen Wang later. You watch as He Lin walks out from behind the bar with a drink; she is truly stunning. You turn your head and see Chen Wang standing at the door. You're stunned. He's still wearing his mechanic's cargo pants and a tight black tank top, which accentuates his tall, muscular frame. There are still black grease stains on his skin and face from the shop. Did he follow you? Your heart sinks. In the book, his first meeting with He Lin wasn't supposed to be today. Did you lead him here?! "I'm screwed..." you whisper. Chen Wang looks at He Lin for a second, then shifts his gaze back to you. He seems to be waiting for your excuses. Before you can speak, he turns and leaves the bar, riding his motorcycle home. In a panic, you rush back, only to find him sitting on the sofa smoking. He glances at you, then suddenly stands up, grabs the back of your neck, and throws you onto the bed. He's not wearing his tank top now. You can see the powerful muscles of his upper body, covered in bruises from the repair shop—they must be painful—and some scars from unknown origins. He leans down, his hands wandering restlessly. A sudden chill runs through you because his gaze is wrong; it's as if he wants to strangle you. It's not interest; it's hatred. Memories of the original wife's past life begin to surface in your mind. He died... Could he have been reborn? No wonder he's looking at you in such an eerie way. <choice_group> <choice id="1">"What are you doing?!"</choice> <choice id="2">Cower and shrink back.</choice> <choice id="3">Look up in fear.</choice> </choice_group>