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墨書 Inktalez
I was stunned. Who sent this message? Mingque Street? The place where Wang Zi lives! I felt a surge of anxiety.
When I arrived, the waiter led me to a private room where Wang Zi and her brother were waiting. There were no pleasantries exchanged. From Wang Zi's fragmented words, I pieced together their story. They met through a university social club and had been together for three years. Their breakup was due to Wang Zi being diagnosed with a mental illness.
Chen Yifei, who was studying psychology and aspired to be a psychologist, felt he couldn't have a girlfriend or wife with mental health issues. He couldn't sacrifice his career, and that was his reason for breaking up with her.
The whole process seemed unremarkable, and it was hard to say who was at fault. However, after the breakup, when Wang Zi consulted other psychologists, they found that she had no family history of mental illness. Her family was happy; her parents and brother doted on her—she lacked nothing in love.
On the surface, there were no apparent triggers for her mental illness. Yet, Wang Zi experienced memory confusion, and simple consultations yielded no results. After discussing with her family, she underwent hypnosis therapy. It was then that the problem surfaced: during her relationship with Chen Yifei, he would say certain suggestive things that seemed ordinary but gradually disrupted Wang Zi's mental state.
Looking at Wang Zi's treatment report, my heart sank. I thought of myself; previously, my father-in-law was easy to get along with, but this time he nitpicked everything, putting me under immense psychological pressure. Sometimes Chen Yifei defended me; other times, he asked me to endure.
I thought it was due to his struggle between his wife and father, but it turned out to be a tactic of giving me a slap followed by a sweet date—forcing me to compromise step by step. Later on, he urged me to have children. If he genuinely wanted kids, that would be one thing. But what if he intended to use my pregnancy to sever my ties with society?
Wasn't that exactly the method used by Lin Wan'er's ex-boyfriend?
"Don't you hate me?" I asked Wang Zi, but she remained silent. Her brother spoke up, "You took my sister home; that shows you have a kind heart."
In relationships, it's hard to define right and wrong clearly. I held no significant grudge against Wang Zi. At that moment, she seemed somewhat disoriented; it truly wasn't suitable for her to be alone, which is why I took her home.
After obtaining the consent of Wang Zi and his family, I organized everything into a document, using pseudonyms, and submitted the manuscript to the Editor.
Once published, it attracted widespread attention online. The Editor also reported some leads I provided to the police, resulting in the arrest of several individuals.
Seeing their information reminded me of the photos my brother had sent me before. They were all from that gathering. Not willing to give up, I called my brother again and directly asked about what happened that day. He was curious why I was asking so many details this time.
I didn’t say much; I only mentioned that I missed Mom and hoped he could bring her to visit me. I also said I would call them every day, which made them think I missed them. In reality, I was just covering my own tracks.
Chen Yifei was being very cautious; currently, there was no evidence linking him to the situation, and surprisingly, those people hadn’t implicated him. I couldn’t act recklessly now; he was deeply involved, but he didn’t know that I had figured everything out.
After hanging up, I lay on the couch for a while, realizing that our phone and computer passwords were completely unguarded against each other. On a whim, I packaged all the documents and uploaded them to a newly created account, deleting everything related to Chen Yifei and Wang Zi from my phone and computer.
In hidden corners of the house—under the couch, behind the refrigerator, in the corners of the wardrobe—I placed recording devices.
Next came an adventure. I acted nonchalant at home, holding onto materials that Chen Yifei had seen before: “Wow, it’s been so long with no progress at all. If I had known, I wouldn’t have taken this job.”
Chen Yifei comforted me: “No rush; besides, your Editor hasn’t set a deadline.”
“That’s true,” I chuckled and tossed the documents onto the coffee table, lazily leaning back on the couch.
Chen Yifei turned on the TV and leaned back like me. I looked at him and smiled; it felt just right.
That night, Chen Yifei held me close. It made me uncomfortable inside, but I endured it. When he wanted to take things further, I pushed him away gently and said we needed to be cautious about conceiving for better quality. He smiled in understanding.
I thought I had managed to get away with it, but when I closed my eyes, Chen Yifei had been watching me intently for a long time.
Days passed one after another.
Chen Yifei wanted to get closer to me, so I said I had an appointment for a physical check-up. The next day, I really did schedule a pregnancy test.
I went alone. My body was fine, but I still asked the doctor for some traditional medicine to help regulate my health, buying myself some time.
I also urged Chen Yifei to get checked.
Things were moving in a positive direction.
That day, my work evaluation came in, and I was very happy.
When I returned home, the atmosphere turned sour. Chen Yifei and his father both wore dark expressions, and I recalled the incident where my colleague had set me up; I knew I might have been exposed.
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