Because of his religious devotion, my husband Charles could only break his vows with me once a month. After each time, he would shake his head in regret, saying he had let down God. I always thought he didn’t enjoy that kind of thing, until he brought home a black exchange student. At first, he said: “Lena is a follower I met while doing charity work in Africa. Don’t overthink it.” Later, he said: “Lena has been poisoned by a tribal love potion. If I don’t save her, she’ll die.” Finally, he said: “Lena is carrying my child. I plan to transfer our marital home to her. You don’t mind, do you?” I calmly replied: “Of course not. Add another house too, in case it’s twins.” Seeing how understanding I was, a rare look of satisfaction appeared on Charles’ usually expressionless face. “You don’t need to make dinner tonight,” he said, as if bestowing a favor upon me. The next second, Lena’s coquettish voice rang out: “Charles, darling, I suddenly have a craving for durian.” She and a group of her black classmates had just come out of the music room, which used to be my piano room. Charles indulged them to make noise in there every day. Charles immediately turned to me: “Go, open a durian for Lena.” I looked at the large, spiky durian on the coffee table. Charles had flown in a plane full of them from Lena’s home country last week. However, our housekeeper had taken leave to visit her hometown two days ago. “We don’t have a knife for opening durians, I…” “Use your hands,” Charles interrupted me. “Lena likes to eat them freshly opened, it’s fresher that way.” He said it casually, as if he was just asking me to peel an orange. Lena leaned on Charles’ shoulder, looking at me with a victorious attitude. I took a deep breath and walked over to the durian. The sharp spikes easily cut through my skin. The strong smell of durian mixed with the metallic scent of my blood, filling the living room. One of Lena’s black female classmates, sitting on the sofa, glanced at me with a look of amusement, making tsk-tsk sounds. “My, Mrs. Shaw is so virtuous, even peeling a durian is such a ceremonious affair.” “She’s just clumsy though. Look at that blood, hope it doesn’t drip onto the fruit. That would be quite unlucky according to our customs,” another shrill voice added. I shakily placed the peeled durian on a plate and pushed it in front of Lena. Lena picked up a piece and elegantly put it in her mouth, closing her eyes in satisfaction. “Mmm, Charles is so good to me, he knows I love this.” She didn’t even glance at me, as if the wounds on my hands had nothing to do with her. Later that evening, Charles suddenly announced: “From now on, Lena will be in charge of the household finances.” I was stunned. “You spend money recklessly and you’re stupid. You can’t even keep the accounts straight,” he said. “Lena is a college student. She’s smarter than you and knows how to save money.” I felt nothing but absurdity. When had I ever been reckless with money all these years? Charles’ parents were in poor health, frequently hospitalized and needing medication. Which expense hadn’t I carefully calculated, even using my own private savings to make up the difference? Charles had used the startup capital I gave him to build his business, and later to run his so-called African charity. He used those fake projects and tragic stories to scam donations from followers and wealthy businessmen. The pain from the spikes on my hands grew worse, red and swollen. Even the slightest touch was agonizing. Lena and her black classmates giggled nearby. One of them pointed at my hands and said: “Tsk tsk, how will you play the piano with those hands now?”
Late at night, Lena had already gone to bed. Surprisingly, Charles came over with a first aid kit and took my battered hand. I inhaled sharply as the alcohol swab touched my wounds. He lowered his head, carefully applying ointment. In the lamplight, his focused profile made me momentarily flash back to the past. Back then, we had just gotten married and our relationship was still good. Once, I accidentally cut my finger while cutting fruit. He had been like this too, nervously and caringly treating my wound while scolding me for being careless. He had said: “Let me handle these things in the future. Don’t hurt yourself again.” “You know I can’t stand the sight of blood now that I’m devoted to my faith.” A few days later, Lena complained in a coquettish voice that her skin had become rough due to pregnancy and needed beauty treatments. I never expected Charles would turn his attention to me. The private doctor he brought in told me that Lena needed stem cell injections to improve her skin, and my stem cells were the most compatible with hers. I lay on the cold operating table, watching my blood being slowly drawn from my body and injected into another container. Charles stood not far away, watching expressionlessly. The doctor glanced at the markings on the blood bag beside him, frowning involuntarily. “Mr. Shaw, if we continue, Mrs. Shaw’s body may not be able to take it. Extracting stem cells isn’t a matter of ‘the more the better.’ Too much could actually…” “Continue,” Charles’ voice was unwavering. “Lena has a weak constitution, and this is her first pregnancy. Of course we need to use the best.” “You’re using my life to give her the best?” I barely managed to squeeze out these words from my parched throat. Charles finally turned his gaze to me. “This is my first child, and it’s your blessing too,” he said. “Although I’m devoted to my faith, I still need an heir. As my wife, you should understand.” It was his child with another woman, yet now my flesh and blood were being used to nourish it. I could even imagine Lena lying in a comfortable bed, enjoying high-end care, while I was reduced to being her living health supplement. The doctor tried to speak again: “Mr. Shaw, this dosage is really… very dangerous. It could cause irreversible damage, even…” “I said, continue,” Charles emphasized. “Everything is cause and effect.” Lena’s classmates had somehow appeared at the door, peering in curiously. “Charles is so good to Lena. We’ve never seen such a good man in our tribe.” “As long as Lena gives Charles a child or two, Charles will surely increase his investment in our tribe in the future.” “Religious people are supposed to be compassionate. Besides, how could Charles bear to see our superior race suffer?” Another voice chimed in. His compassion, it seemed, was selective. My body grew colder and colder. “That’s enough, Mr. Shaw. We really can’t extract any more,” the doctor’s voice trembled. “If we continue, it could be fatal!” Charles seemed to walk over, his figure swaying in my blurry vision.
When I woke up again, I was lying in a hospital bed. The sunlight outside the window was piercing, yet I felt chilled to the bone. Lena sauntered in, her high heels clicking. “Sister, you’re awake?” she said. “The doctor said your stem cells worked wonders. Look at my skin, isn’t it smooth and tender?” She stroked her cheeks boastfully. I closed my eyes, not wanting to see her smug face. “Oh, right,” Lena suddenly seemed to remember something and leaned in closer. “Charles took all those artistic photos of you from before and shared them with his religious friends to study, you know. For designing some custom maternity dresses for me.” “He said your body proportions are similar to mine, so he wanted them to use those as reference to make the most fitting and beautiful clothes for me.” Those photos were taken years ago when Charles had been kidnapped by a gang of thugs and beaten bloody. They had forced me to take revealing photos to spare his life. After that incident, Charles became devoted to his studies, not only improving his grades rapidly but also getting into a PhD program and later studying theology. Seeing his lofty ambitions, I finally agreed to marry him after his 99th proposal. Now, to please his new love, he actually took my shameful past and offered it up for others to ogle. Lena watched my face turn deathly pale, her smile growing more smug: “Don’t look at me like that. Charles is just doing it for the baby’s sake. He said those friends all praised your figure, just that it’s a pity you’re too prudish and don’t know how to be sexy.” Lena didn’t seem to notice my distress, or perhaps she simply didn’t care. She took out a dazzling diamond necklace from her crocodile skin handbag and dangled it in front of me: “Look, Charles bought this for me yesterday. He said it complements my skin tone.” “He said someone with a healthy complexion like mine looks good in anything, unlike some people who are as pale as paper, with no vitality at all.” She changed the subject, bringing up those photos again: “Charles said that although your old photos were artistic, they were still too conservative in the end.” “The girls from our tribe are much more open-minded than you. Charles even said if he wasn’t worried about scaring you, he would have taken me to shoot much racier ones long ago.” Lena glanced at me contemptuously: “Sister, I’m not criticizing you, but you’re just too old-fashioned, out of touch with the times. Charles may look like a devout Christian, all pure and abstinent, but his needs in that department are huge!” She giggled shrilly, her voice grating on the ears. “He said it’s because when he’s with you, he can’t get in the mood, can’t get excited, so he feels like he’s desecrating God.” Lena leaned in even closer, her overpowering perfume making me nauseous. “Do you know why Charles married you in the first place?” “Because your grandfather and Charles’ grandfather were war buddies who fought against Russia together. The two old men hoped your families would be joined through marriage.” Lena’s lipstick-stained mouth kept moving. “Charles said touching you makes him feel like he’s dirtying his hands. If it wasn’t for the sake of completing his spiritual journey and putting on a show for others, he would have divorced you long ago.” “A woman like you is just wasting oxygen by being alive. You might as well give up your place early, stop occupying a space you don’t deserve.” She laughed raucously, the diamond necklace on her chest glittering painfully in my eyes. “Oh, and you think your grandfather was some kind of good person? Back then, he…” “Enough!” A stern female voice interrupted Lena. An older nurse strode in, her face livid: “Young lady, this is a hospital ward. Patients need peace and quiet! How can you make such a racket here? Have you no sense of decency?” Lena was startled by this sudden scolding. She pouted, reluctantly sashaying out. “Nutcase,” the nurse muttered under her breath before turning to me. “Mrs. Shaw, how are you feeling? If you’re uncomfortable in any way, just press the call button.” I nodded woodenly. The nurse sighed, tucking in my blanket before leaving.
Lena’s last words reminded me of my grandfather’s instructions. I picked up my phone and dialed that number. I had just put down the phone when Charles burst in, bringing a chill with him. “Lily! What did you do to Lena again? She came back crying, saying you cursed at her and tried to hit her!” “And you shamelessly sent those photos of yours to my friends. They’re all laughing at me now!” Just then, the older nurse came in with a medicine tray. Seeing Charles, her face immediately lit up with a smile. “Mr. Shaw, you’re here? Mrs. Shaw just woke up, her spirits seem good.” “These past few days while she was unconscious, you’ve been here day and night without rest. You’re truly a model husband.” “And such a devout Christian too. Mrs. Shaw is so blessed to be married to a man like you.” Blessed? I almost laughed out loud. As before, the medical expenses were deducted from our joint account. He used my money to buy his reputation as a compassionate soul, openly transferring our marital assets. Hearing the nurse’s words, the dark clouds on Charles’ face instantly dispersed, replaced by a gentle expression. He walked to my bedside and took my hand: “Lily, we’re husband and wife. Taking care of you is what I should do.” “Your health isn’t good, so don’t overthink things, and don’t quarrel with young girls.” He even bent down and lightly kissed my forehead in front of the nurse. As those cold lips touched me, I felt a wave of nausea. The nurse nodded approvingly. “She’s just too willful,” Charles sighed, his tone indulgent yet helpless. “Alright, the doctor says you can be discharged. I’ll take you home.” With that, he bent down and scooped me up in his arms, ignoring my wishes. I stiffly allowed him to carry me, smelling the faint sandalwood scent on him, feeling nothing but irony. Back home, the house was a mess, filled with unfamiliar odors. My precious antique zithers were all gone, replaced by a shiny drum set. Several Western instruments were strewn haphazardly nearby. Charles followed behind me. Seeing me frozen in place, he impatiently waved his hand: “Come on, they’re just messing around. I’ll buy you new ones later, it’s not a big deal.” Lena’s gang of black classmates were gathered around the sofa, making faces and snickering at me in hushed voices. Charles ushered them into his room. If saving one soul was good, saving many was even better. When Charles came to me that night, he caught me sending messages. Seeing him with beads of sweat on his forehead, I quickly stepped forward and snatched the phone from his hand. “Your body hasn’t recovered yet. What are you doing playing with your phone?” he said. He tried to unlock it, his fingers swiping the screen a few times, but it remained dark. He had forgotten that the password was our wedding anniversary. He grew impatient but eventually tossed the phone back to me, probably thinking I couldn’t cause any trouble in my current state. “Get some rest early,” he said curtly before turning to leave. The TV in the hospital room was playing a local news segment. On screen, Charles wore a well-tailored suit, looking spirited and energetic. Beside him were a radiant Lena and her classmates. The news headline read: “Philanthropist Charles Shaw’s Boundless Love: International Aid and Cultural Integration Across Races”. The host praised Charles’ charitable deeds in passionate tones, saying he had promoted cultural exchange and understanding. The scene switched to Lena nestled against Charles, smiling charmingly at the camera. “Charles has always taught us that all beings are equal, and love knows no boundaries of nation or skin color,” she said. “His acceptance of me and my people is the greatest kindness and respect he could show us.” Her tribespeople also expressed their gratitude to Charles on camera, praising his compassionate heart and magnanimous spirit. Charles had indeed held another charity gala to boost his image. Lena was invited as a special guest to share her experience of being helped, while also promoting Charles’ company. I attended in simple attire. When Charles saw me, he said: “Lily, there are many important guests today. It’s good that you’re dressed like this, it shows purity.” Lena, on the other hand, wore a fiery red dress dripping with jewels, hanging on Charles’ arm like the hostess. On stage, Charles spoke at length about Christian teachings and universal love. Lena gazed at him adoringly from the side, while her classmates chimed in with their broken English. Just as Lena was thanking Charles, the lights in the banquet hall suddenly went out. Amidst the screams, several dark figures rushed in. After a moment of chaos, the big screen lit up, showing an image of me beaten bloody. The leader of the kidnappers pointed a gun at me, grinning viciously at Charles on stage: “Charles Shaw, want your wife to live?” Charles’ face turned ashen. Lena screamed and hid behind him. The kidnapper sneered: “It’s simple. Strip naked in front of everyone and kowtow three times to the screen. Then we’ll let her go.”
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