At Thirty, My Marriage Is Dead

On his thirtieth birthday, Chen Dongsheng deliberately left work early and bought his wife's favorite cherries and a bouquet of Ecuadorian roses to surprise her. When I opened the door, the living room was empty. The bedroom door was ajar, and there was a rustling sound inside. "Husband is working overtime tonight, hurry up... Don't leave any traces." That was the voice of his wife Lin Wei, gentle and charming in a way he had never heard before. Chen Dongsheng froze outside the door, the bouquet in his hand slipped, and Che Lizi rolled to the ground. He did not rush in to question, but silently exited the house and bought a pack of the cheapest cigarettes in the convenience store downstairs. He never smoked and choked to tears. That night, he received a WeChat message from his wife: "Husband, I'm working overtime tonight, will I go back later?" Chen Dongsheng stared at the screen and replied with trembling fingers: "Okay." He didn't cry, he just pulled out the marriage certificate from two years ago. Looking at the two people smiling brightly in the photo, he suddenly felt strange. The next day, he hired a lawyer. On the third day, he overheard a piece of news in the company's tea room: three months ago, the company's new vice president, who drove a Porsche and was said to have a great background, had just announced his divorce. The contact information of the person on his wife's mobile phone who she contacted frequently and was noted as "Mr. Wang" was exactly the same as that of the vice president. Chen Dongsheng originally thought that the collapse of adults begins with silence. But he didn't expect that his counterattack would shake the entire city.