Terminal illness and betrayal

The scorching sun beat down on the square in front of the Provincial Center for Disease Control and Prevention, but Chen An felt his blood run cold. The thin piece of paper in his hand felt like a branding iron. An HIV positive test report. Just hours earlier, the initial screening results from the Provincial Hospital had already plunged his heart to the bottom. Now, the CDC's rescreening result—an equally alarming positive—officially sealed his fate. Twenty-eight years old, a PhD graduate, the youngest senior professional in his unit. What should have been the prime of his life, a promising future, was utterly shattered by this piece of paper. "Based on your description, it's very likely that you were infected through s****l transmission," the doctor's voice was cold and professional, each word like a needle piercing Chen An's nerves. "I suggest your wife get screened as soon as possible. This kind of disease can't be delayed." Sexual transmission. These three words exploded in Chen An's mind. His wife, Tang Ruoxuan—a woman known as the most beautiful woman in Jiangdong City—they had been married for three years, their love boundless. At least, that's what he always thought. Sitting in the car, Chen An's finger hovered over the dial pad on his phone; Tang Ruoxuan's name flashed on the screen. But at the last second before the call connected, he abruptly hung up. He hadn't told anyone about this trip back to the city for a checkup, not even his wife. "I want to see what you've been doing while I'm gone," he thought. Their marital home was only a ten-minute drive from the bank where Tang Ruoxuan worked, a love nest they had specially purchased three years ago. But when Chen An unlocked the door, the stench of dust hit him, making his heart clench—the house hadn't been lived in for at least a month. He turned the car around and headed straight for the bank. The executive parking space was empty. Damn it. Chen An suddenly remembered something and quickly started working on his phone—Tang Ruoxuan's car had a GPS tracking system installed. A red dot flashed on the screen: Jiangdong Grand Hotel. When Chen An arrived at the opulent hotel, he immediately saw his wife's white Mercedes, quietly parked in the VIP area. He looked up at the hotel's towering glass facade, imagining what was happening in one of the rooms. His stunningly beautiful wife, and another man. Anger and nausea surged in his throat simultaneously. The sudden impact lurched Chen An forward. He braked, only to realize he'd crashed into a Volkswagen reversing out. "Are you blind?" a middle-aged woman stormed out of the car, inspected the scratches on the rear, and immediately went to the side to make a phone call. Chen An tried to settle the matter privately, but the woman was adamant, insisting on waiting for the traffic police and the insurance company. Worse, she stared intently at Chen An, refusing to let him move an inch. Time ticked by, and Chen An's anxiety felt like it would burst from his chest. Then, he saw it. Through the hotel's revolving doors, Tang Ruoxuan emerged, arm in arm with a strange man, smiling radiantly. She wore a burgundy dress Chen An had never seen before, its neckline extremely low, her long neck gleaming alluringly in the sunlight. The man's hand rested naturally on her waist as they chatted intimately towards a black Bentley. Chen An's blood rushed to his head. He tried to rush forward, but the middle-aged woman held his arm tightly. "You think you can run? No way!" Two passing men also rushed over, easily subduing Chen An's weak struggles. He could only watch helplessly as his wife got into the man's car and sped away. Two hours later, after the traffic police finished processing the case, Chen An wearily checked his hands—no exposed wounds. He breathed a sigh of relief. Any tiny bleeding could have passed death on to someone else and exposed him to a greater risk of infection. Entering the hotel lobby, Chen An requested to see the security footage, but the manager politely but firmly refused. "I'm sorry, sir, we need to protect our guests' privacy." Privacy. What an ironic word. Back in his car, Chen An finally broke down in tears. He didn't know how much time had passed before he fell asleep through his tears. When he awoke, it was already dark. The house remained empty. Chen An plugged in his phone to charge, then suddenly remembered another possible location—his in-laws' house. The three-story villa in the affluent neighborhood was exceptionally grand. Chen An entered the password to open the gate, just in time to meet Tang Ruoxuan as she emerged from the house. She wore a silk loungewear dress, the hem reaching mid-thigh, revealing the long, beautiful legs that had once captivated Chen An. In the moonlight, her skin glowed white, her features exquisitely sculpted. The most beautiful woman in Jiangdong, his wife. “Chen An?” Tang Ruoxuan’s eyes widened in surprise. “Why are you back? Why didn’t you tell me beforehand?” Chen An didn’t answer. A sudden wave of nausea washed over him, and he abruptly turned, vomiting violently into the rose bushes in the garden. “Oh my god, what’s wrong?” Tang Ruoxuan frowned, pinching her nose as she approached, gently patting his back. “Are you feeling unwell?” Chen An could feel the cold sweat on his neck. Nausea and night sweats—one of the early symptoms of AIDS. He vomited only sour bile. After recovering, he straightened up, his eyes scanning the room: "Are you alone?"