Please, mature women, have some self-respect. I just want a raise and a promotion.

Zhang Wanquan's fist slammed against the door panel, again and again, the force of which gradually weakened.

"You can just stand outside the door and listen."

"When you kick the door open and come in, see what your wife looks like."

"Look at how another man did this to her."

Zhang Wanquan suddenly took a step back and crashed into the wall opposite him in the corridor with a thud.

He lowered his head, his bangs obscuring his eyes, his chest heaving violently, and his fists clenched tightly.

The emergency lights in the corridor shone on his face, and in the pale light, his expression looked like a piece of iron that had been repeatedly hammered, twisted and fragmented.

The sounds from inside the door continued.

Lin Xiaoyu's breathing became more and more rapid and out of control, like a ship being tossed about to its limit in a giant wave.

Her voice began to break, interspersed with muffled sobs and short breaths, each sound precisely penetrating the door and reaching the ears of the man outside.

Then she shouted.

That sound was unadorned, purely an uncontrolled instinct.

The sound was very loud, like the sound of a taut string snapping, exploding in the corridor and seeping into every corner through the cracks.

Zhang Wanquan leaned against the wall and closed his eyes tightly.

Lin Zheng's fingers dug into Lin Xiaoyu's hair, his breathing heavy and rapid.

Lin Xiaoyu knelt down in front of him.

The movements didn't stop, and neither did the sounds.

"We've arrived. I'm almost at my destination."

The moment the words fell.

Lin Zheng tensed up instantly, ready to explode at any moment.

Zhang Wanquan leaned against the wall across the corridor, his chest still heaving violently.

The storm-like noise finally stopped.

After a while, Zhang Wanquan reached into his pocket, took out his phone, turned on the screen, and dialed a number.

In the room, Lin Xiaoyu slowly stood up from the floor, her legs still feeling a little weak.

She leaned against Lin Zheng, turned her head to look at the crack in the door. A thin crack had appeared in the door frame, through which she could vaguely see the pale emergency lights in the corridor.

She looked away and glanced at her phone.

The screen was lit up, and the name of the caller was clearly displayed in her eyes.

She closed her eyes briefly, then pressed the answer button and held the phone to her ear.

"Feed?"

Her voice was still catching her breath, but she deliberately kept her tone flat, as if she were acting in a play that had been rehearsed many times.

There was a full two seconds of silence on the other end of the phone, followed by Zhang Wanquan's extremely angry voice.

"Where are you?"

Lin Xiaoyu glanced at Lin Zheng, and the corners of her mouth curved slightly, but the curve was so short that it was almost invisible.

She looked away, leaned against the wall, and spoke with a perfectly languid tone.

"I'm home. What's up? I just took a shower and am lying on the sofa. I made some soup. Are you coming home for some?"

"You make soup?" Zhang Wanquan stared intently at the crack in the door, his tone skeptical.

"Yes, pork rib soup, the one you said you wanted to drink last time. I bought it at the market this afternoon."

"How about you over there? Still working overtime in the office?"

Lin Xiaoyu's voice was surprisingly steady, even carrying a hint of lighthearted laughter.

Just as she finished speaking, Lin Zheng suddenly pressed close to her.

Caught off guard, Lin Xiaoyu immediately cried out.

"Lin Xiaoyu, you said you were home, but I heard someone nearby?"

Lin Xiaoyu paused for a moment while holding her phone, but her expression remained unchanged.

She turned her head and looked at Lin Zheng.

Lin Zheng was standing less than a step away from her, his breathing not yet fully calmed, and her finger marks still remained on his chest.

"You misheard me, I don't have anyone."

Zhang Wanquan's face turned green, and he roared, "You'd yell like that over the phone if you were making soup? Do you think I'm deaf?"

"I just twisted my ankle, it only hurt for a moment, why are you so worried?"

"Sprained ankle? You'd scream like that if you sprained your ankle?"

Zhang Wanquan on the other end of the phone completely lost control.

"Lin Xiaoyu, tell me right now, are you at the Huaihai Hotel?"

As soon as he finished speaking, Zhang Wanquan initiated a WeChat video call request.

Lin Xiaoyu held the phone to her ear and said in a very soft voice, "I'm not available to answer a video call."

Why is it inconvenient?

Zhang Wanquan on the other end of the phone seemed to be completely ignited by something; his voice was high and tight, with an almost broken sharpness.

Lin Xiaoyu was silent for two seconds, then gently placed the phone in Lin Zheng's hand.

Lin Zheng took the phone, glanced at the name on the screen, and then looked at Lin Xiaoyu.

Lin Xiaoyu nodded to him, then squatted down again.

She raised her head and began to speak again...

Through the still-connected telephone line, her voice seeped from deep within her throat.

It felt like something was stuck in my throat.

After hearing that sound on the other end of the phone, there was a loud, explosive crashing sound, followed by the crisp clang of metal hitting the wall, and then complete silence.

The call was still going on, but Zhang Wanquan was no longer able to speak.

Lin Xiaoyu looked up at Lin Zheng, something stuck to the corner of her mouth.

She lightly licked it, then leaned closer to the microphone and said into the silence, "Old Zhang, what's wrong with you?"

The call hadn't ended yet, but all that could be heard on the other end was heavy breathing.

Lin Xiaoyu took the phone back from Lin Zheng, looked at the continuously flashing video request on the screen, and immediately swiped to hang up.

She chuckled softly, then looked up at Lin Zheng again.

"He even wanted to turn on the video call. Don't you think he has any shame?"

"He probably wanted to confirm whether you were really doing it with someone else."

"Then let's let him hear it again."

As she spoke, she climbed back onto Lin Zheng's body, her fingertips clasping the back of his head.

The phone lay to one side, its screen still lit, the call stubbornly continuing, like a taut string trembling between the two voices.

Zhang Wanquan stood in the corridor, his phone still held to his ear, the call screen still lit up.

The sounds coming from inside were intermittent panting, mixed with indistinct moans and occasional high-pitched screams.

Each syllable was like a fine needle, precisely piercing his eardrum and burning all the way down his nerves to his brain.

He listened for several seconds, then abruptly hung up the call and slammed his phone against the wall across the hallway.

The phone screen shattered instantly, cracking into a spiderweb pattern, and bounced onto the carpet, rolling twice before coming to a stop.

He was panting heavily, as if all his energy had been drained away. His chest heaved violently, and his eyes darted back and forth between panic and rage.

He took out another phone, turned on the screen, and hovered his finger over the call screen for a second before stopping at the number 110.

Once you press the button, someone will come within three minutes, the door will open, and the person inside will have nowhere to hide.

He would be able to see with his own eyes what his wife looks like under another man.

He could rush in, grab the man, pin him to the ground, and smash his face with his fists.

My fingertip has already touched the screen.