It Was 11 P. M., and My Wife Was Still Awake

It was 11 p. M. When I dragged my weary body through the door. The living room was pitch black; Su Qing must have been asleep long ago. In the three years of our marriage, she had never waited for me to come home. I tiptoed towards the bedroom, wanting to see my son, Xiao Yu. As I passed the master bedroom, I heard Su Qing's suppressed voice. "Zhiming, when are you coming back to China? I've really had enough of this life." I stopped, my heart pounding. "Wait a little longer. The company needs time to arrange things. How's it going with Haozi?" A man's voice came from the phone; it was Chen Zhiming. Su Qing's childhood sweetheart...