In Her Name, I Fell into Eternal Slumber

Betrayal

I had known for a long time. Back when we had just gotten married, or perhaps even before we were married, when we were still dating, Li Rongrong had been doing things that betrayed me.

She had ambiguous relationships with many men, and the one thing they all had in common was that they resembled Chen Cheng.

He was her “white moonlight,” the man she kept hidden in her heart, a love she wanted to hold onto for life but could never touch. He had already married and settled abroad, never to return. Li Rongrong could never see him again, let alone be with him.

So, when she reached the age of marriage, she chose me—one of the most obedient men among her suitors. I was the one who would give her the material comfort she desired. She married me and got a solid foundation for her life.

But what did that matter? Despite all the material stability, she still longed for an emotional connection, something she could lean on. So she sought out countless substitutes for Chen Cheng.

Some of these men resembled him in their eyes, others in their noses or their facial shapes. There were even a few who had a similar name—just one character from his name—so that when the moment of intimacy came, she could whisper his name.

As an outsider, I almost felt moved by Li Rongrong’s “love.” She truly loved Chen Cheng to the core, and yet, he gave her nothing in return. Over all these years, not a single response, not even a word.

And yet, Li Rongrong continued to love him without complaint, without regret. She gave all her love to Chen Cheng, leaving me with nothing but the hollow remnants of her affection. As for me, she had no true feelings, just the most ridiculous, perfunctory care.

I threw the evidence of Li Rongrong’s many affairs in her face. “I’m not asking for your permission to divorce. I’m informing you,” I said coldly.

“Fine, fine, you’re going to make this so final, huh?” Li Rongrong sneered, unbothered by my words.

She grabbed our daughter, Wang Jiajia, by the arm. “What about Wang Jiajia? You’re not going to take her either. You know Jiajia won’t choose you. She’ll always choose me, her mother.”

“If I divorce you, I can guarantee you will never see her again. Not even at your deathbed. She won’t be there for you.”

I turned to look at Wang Jiajia. Her face was almost identical to Li Rongrong’s, that same firm, unwavering expression. “I want to stay with Mom. I only want Mom. I don’t like Dad.”

“Alright,” I said, a bitter smile on my face. “That’s fine. If that’s how it is, then both of you leave. I don’t want anyone. I won’t fight for custody, I don’t even want visitation rights. We’ll never have to see each other again.”

Li Rongrong’s face contorted with rage. She had always been the one to throw harsh words at me. When had I ever spoken so ruthlessly to her?

Without a word, she turned and left, furious, as if she couldn’t bear to look at me anymore.

The truth was, she wasn’t entirely wrong. I was desperate for love, starved for it. Since childhood, I had tried to win affection from everyone around me. As long as they treated me even a little bit kindly, I would shower them with endless love and care.

But to others, my kindness was suspicious, unsettling. How could I explain why, when someone casually gave me an apple, I felt an overwhelming need to give them everything I had, as if that small gesture of kindness had somehow saved me?

As I grew older, I began to realize how off-putting my behavior was, and so I stopped. But whenever someone showed me even the slightest affection, I couldn’t control myself.

When I first met Li Rongrong, it was when I was twenty-five.

I had just been promoted, but in a drunken haze, I ended up completely intoxicated at a business party. I collapsed onto the ground, helpless, as I watched my colleagues one by one leave with their families.

They had parents, friends, lovers. But why was I alone?

Why did I have no parents who loved me? Why, after all these years, did I have no real friends? No one to share my life with? It felt like all my social connections were empty, hollow.

No one loved me. I was so desperate for love. Was I really such a terrible person?

It was at that moment that Li Rongrong appeared.

She was working part-time as a waitress at the event, and when she saw me lying on the ground, she was shocked. Actually, I was still conscious, but I couldn’t control my body anymore.

She helped me sit up on a nearby sofa and seemed ready to call someone to pick me up. I struggled and spoke weakly, “No need, no one will come to pick me up.”

I don’t know why, but I suddenly blurted out, “Can I sleep here for one night?”

Curled up on a small sofa, I almost begged her. “Please, just let me stay here for tonight. I really don’t have the strength to go home.”

Li Rongrong was just a waitress. She didn’t have the authority to let me stay, but she nodded and agreed. She carefully closed the door, reassuring me that no one would disturb me.

During those years, I often drank myself to the point of passing out, drinking until I lost all sense of myself, collapsing on the streets like a dog. But the small act of kindness from Li Rongrong—her closing that door and letting me stay on that tiny sofa—was a moment of support I had never expected.

In the darkness, I wiped my tears away and told myself that it didn’t matter that no one loved me. I could be my own support. I could love myself.

But the faith I built in that darkness was so fragile, so easily shattered.

Soon enough, I realized that I couldn’t do it.

From then on, Li Rongrong and I became acquainted. We began to communicate more frequently, and our relationship grew. I took her out for a meal, and the next time she saw me drunk, she handed me a carton of milk.

The small acts of kindness and understanding she showed me began to form a bond. I was grateful, but the reality of her betrayal was always hanging over my head. I knew she was deceiving me, that her heart belonged to someone else, but I couldn’t help but fall deeper into her trap.

I tried to be the man she wanted, but I could never escape the shadow of her first love.

Now, knowing all that I did, the truth felt like a burden I couldn’t bear. Yet, I had no choice but to face it.

The woman I had loved and trusted, the woman I had hoped would be my salvation, was the same woman who had been unfaithful to me from the start.