The Stolen Lover

Untitled Episode 2

"Has she received any gifts lately—like handbags or jewelry?"

"Not really. She only buys one or two luxury items a year. I haven't seen her using anything new lately."

"Hmm, then there's no sign of infidelity. They just seem like an old married couple. Maybe you're being overly sensitive?"

"I just feel like she's cheating. I just don't have any proof."

Brother Nan sighed. "Let me ask you this: if you had proof your wife was cheating, what would you do? Divorce her?"

After a sip of wine, Scholar lowered his head and pondered, "Would you look down on me if I said I wouldn't?"

"Damn it, divorce is your business. What right do I have to look down on you? That's a different matter. So why wouldn't you divorce her if she cheated?"

"She's all I have."

After the scholar said this, Brother Nan smoked in silence for a long while.

After a moment of silence, Brother Nan spoke thoughtfully, "Alright, brother. Let's take it step by step. First, we'll verify if your suspicions are correct. If it turns out she really has been unfaithful, there are still ways to salvage things. If she hasn't, then there are even more ways to repair your relationship or at least change the current situation. Is she home today?"

"Yes."

"Then I'll send you an app. Is your wife's phone Android or iPhone?"

"iPhone."

"Do you know her passcode?"

"I do, but if she's up to something, could she still leave evidence on her phone for me to find?"

"Having the password makes it easy. Install the software I send you on your computer. It's simple to use—you'll figure it out right away. Connect the phone, click the 'Restore All' button, and leave the rest to it. Everything deleted will come back: chat logs, call records, texts, photos, even activity logs from various apps. Someone as observant as you will see everything just by looking through it. If she's having an affair, even without hotel booking evidence, she'd need to take taxis to get there. If there are no payment records for hotel stays during her supposed business trips, it suggests someone else booked rooms for her. Then there are train tickets, WeChat Pay, Alipay—just skim through those and you'll see everything. These days, nothing escapes digital payment systems. A quick check reveals everyone's transparent."

"That doesn't seem right. Keeping some privacy is basic respect in a relationship. I'd rather just ask her face-to-face."

"You gotta be flexible, bro. Rules are rigid, but you need to apply them flexibly. Tell me—if you confront her directly, do you think she'd admit it if she really did it? Or if she genuinely didn't and told you honestly, would you believe her? Honestly, I doubt she did it. This verification process is just to give you peace of mind—it's not like you're betraying her."

"But what if I actually find evidence? Then the truth is right there. She won't have any way out. She'll have to divorce me. That would make things even harder, wouldn't it?"

"Huh, you kid," Brother Nan's smile spread like watching a young couple kissing in their prime.

Let me put it this way—back in your younger days, what did you guys fight about? Let me guess: did you ever argue over which parking spot to take at the mall? Did you ever fight over which restaurant to choose? Did you ever bicker about which rest stop to fill up at on the highway? Hmm, did you ever clash over dirty laundry left on the couch? You must have had one or two similar spats, right?

Xiu Cai's eyes widened. "Brother Nan, aren't you single? How come you know so much about married couples?"

Brother Nan smiled. He loved it when people admitted he was right. This guy just loved arguing points with people—he could get two consecutive correct answers on the same true-or-false question.

"I'm not married, and I've never been to the moon either, but I still know it's round. This isn't complicated—just put yourself in their shoes. Think about it—in the early stages of romance, every couple is inseparable. That's why they impulsively decide to marry. But once they enter marriage, life isn't so rosy anymore. People aren't afraid of what they don't have; they fear having something and then losing it. That gap is the most painful. You should try to see it from a woman's perspective."

Brother Nan took a drag on his cigarette and continued his lecture.

"The key to a couple's relationship lies in mutual understanding. That sounds simple enough, but it's all about how you break it down and execute it. My theory is this: in small matters, you need to skillfully wield and relinquish decision-making power. Make it clear to her which decisions are hers to make and which are yours. Take dinner, for example. Asking a woman, 'What do you want to eat tonight?' is a no-go. The right approach is: 'Honey, there's a new Japanese place near the back gate of Nanjing Arts that's pretty good. Want to try it? That grilled fish spot on Yihe Road seems popular lately too. And it's been ages since we hit up that Sichuan joint in Zhangfuyuan. Where should we go?' That's called holding the decision-making power. It looks like you're asking her, but you've already made the choice for her. Another scenario: when she asks you which lipstick shade suits her, which dress looks better, or which movie to see after dinner, you should feign seriousness while offering a bunch of noncommittal opinions. Because these matters aren't your responsibility—just let her decide. That's what ceding control means. If you weigh in on things that aren't your business, arguments are bound to happen. If you don't take charge when you should, women get frustrated. These are all small things, but too many arguments will make hearts grow cold."

The scholar listened intently, processing each word as he nodded repeatedly.

"But what about her complaining that I don't earn enough?"

"No one thinks their income is sufficient. The fact she chose to marry you proves money wasn't her primary concern in this relationship. Typically, couples argue over finances because the woman feels no hope in her partner. Life only gets more expensive—what satisfied them during courtship, like a burger and movie tickets, becomes harder to manage after marriage. Men shouldn't be ashamed to discuss money with their wives. You need to share your plans and the efforts you're making. This will reassure her that there's hope for the future and help her understand how to budget and spend wisely to avoid awkward situations. Plus, spend money in ways that show her you care. Buy her a bag, for instance. It won't cost much over a year, but one purchase can make her happy for half a year. Two bags? That's just for the holidays!"

Xiu Cai listened intently, pondering how to apply this wisdom practically. "You're right. I always thought I loved her, but I never showed it through these methods. I'll change that. But what about her ignoring me right now?"

"Easy fix. Go home and check her phone first. If everything looks fine, then confess to her. That creates a conversation point, right? Handle it well, and she'll notice your change. Come on, finish your drink."

After finishing his drink with Nan, Xiu Cai still felt uneasy. Nan turned to drink at another table, leaving Xiu Cai alone for a while. He remained invisible amid the bustle. Thinking he had no better ideas, he recalled Nan’s advice—always hovering between sound and nonsense, impossible to tell truth from fiction. Gritting his teeth, he decided to try it first. If it didn’t work, he’d seek more lessons later.

As he left, Brother Nan was still chatting wildly with the crowd. The girl beside him listened, her mouth stretched into a wide smile. Everyone urged him to play the guitar and sing, but he kept saying, "Hold on, hold on—the drinks haven't arrived yet!"

Xiu Cai bid Brother Nan farewell, reminding him to send the materials. Brother Nan promised he'd send them right away, and Xiu Cai hurried home.

The scholar's wife was Li Xiaoyan. She studied acting at Nanjing Arts University and had acted in films before joining the publishing house. When the scholar once asked her why she stopped acting, Xiaoyan simply said the world of fame and fortune was too dirty. She never mentioned it again. In this regard, Xiaoyan and the scholar were quite alike. Brother Nan once asked the scholar why he didn't write for the bestsellers but insisted on penning those dark rural tales. The scholar replied, "I'd lose face doing that." Perhaps it was precisely this shared quality that brought Xiao Yan and Xiu Cai together. At first glance, they seemed an unlikely pair. Xiao Yan was the kind of beauty who could captivate a nation even with half her face concealed, while Xiu Cai rarely lifted his head when walking or speaking, forever bearing the look of someone wounded in childhood. Countless admirers of Li Xiao Yan couldn't resist taking a few jabs at Xiu Cai behind his back. Yet this unlikely pair has stayed together all these years.

The Scholar was actually quite considerate toward Xiaoyan. Since he didn't have a nine-to-five job, he never let her lift a finger for chores like laundry or cooking. His favorite pastime was ironing clothes while wearing a headset, dictating his online novels into a voice-to-text app. The way he muttered to himself, like a storyteller, was a bit unsettling at first glance—a man standing there, mumbling to himself.

When he got home, Xiaoyan was already asleep. Xiu Cai opened the bedroom door to peek inside, then retreated back to his study. It took two cigarettes to steel himself before he tiptoed over and quietly retrieved Xiaoyan's phone.

The investigation went smoothly, yet Xiu Cai found no trace of evidence to confirm his suspicions. Some men had presumptuously flirted with her, but her replies were always polite. The messages she deleted were mostly junk, leaving her digital footprint as clean as if she had no secrets to hide.

Xiu Cai felt a wave of relief wash over him, yet he was left even more bewildered. If she wasn't having an affair, then Xiao Yan's attitude toward him was even harder to explain. The coldness and indifference he sensed felt like a dull blade slicing through their past and present. For a man who had nothing, love was like a faith that sustained his entire life. The belief that a woman loved him was the sole strength keeping him alive.

As the scholar stared blankly at the computer screen, his mind racing with plans to salvage his love, the study door slammed open. Xiaoyan appeared in her nightgown, eyes fixed on the phone beside the computer. She turned to him with fury, saying nothing, just staring for a full minute. That minute felt like a sword fight, leaving the scholar panicked and shattered. After years together, their connection had grown subtle—a kind of telepathy where they sensed each other's movements. Xiu Cai often wrote late into the night in his study, while Xiao Yan slept soundly, never stirring. Tonight, however, less than half an hour after Xiu Cai picked up the phone, Xiao Yan awoke. Truthfully, Xiao Yan had been awake since the scholar first entered the room. She’d heard him open the door the first time, half-asleep and unconcerned. When he opened it again to retrieve his phone, she still paid it no mind. Only when she rolled over and realized the scholar wasn’t sleeping did her eyes suddenly brighten. Sitting up, she saw the phone missing from the bedside table and instantly understood. She sat alone in bed for half an hour, waiting until she was sure Xiu Cai had finished reading before coming over.