Five years without pregnancy means you're too weak; I remarried a powerful man and had triplets

She screamed hysterically, pointing to the door and ruthlessly chasing him out like a dog to buy durian.

From beginning to end, she didn't utter a single word of concern for his wound, nor did she ask him if it hurt.

Even after she guessed that he was beaten because of Shen Zhiyi, her eyes were filled with contempt and sarcasm, as if the injury on his face was some kind of disgusting stain.

Su Manman's sharp curses still echoed in his ears, but at this moment, Xu Zhesheng felt as if his soul had been ripped away, and he couldn't help but think of the past.

At that time, Shen Zhiyi was still by his side.

Let alone with such a big wound, even if he just accidentally scraped his skin on the corner of the table, her clear eyes would instantly become misty and red like a wronged rabbit.

She would carefully pull him down to sit, take out iodine and cotton swabs, and move as gently as if she were wiping a rare treasure.

When the cold medicine touched the wound, she would subconsciously hold her breath, then purse her lips and blow gently on his wound, trying to use that little bit of warmth to dispel all his pain.

At that time, he didn't feel cared for at all; on the contrary, he found her appearance extremely irritating.

He even sneered inwardly, thinking that she was just putting on an act, deliberately putting on this show of loving him so much that he would be devoted to her.

He thought she was making a mountain out of a molehill, feeling that it was just a minor scrape, why did her eyes turn red?

But now, when Su Manman's sticky fingers, covered in watermelon juice, jabbed hard into his wound...

He finally realized that it wasn't acting.

That was Shen Zhiyi's genuine heartache.

He will never experience that feeling of being cherished and carefully protected again in his life.

His heart and stomach were churning with pain, and he didn't even have the strength to say another word to Su Manman.

"Okay, I understand."

He responded softly, his voice hoarse as if he had swallowed a handful of sand.

After saying that, he resignedly took off the slippers he had just put on, put his shoes back on, pushed open the door, and walked into the night.

As he walked to the entrance of the residential area, the pent-up frustration in his chest made it hard for him to breathe.

He shakily pulled a cigarette from his pocket, lit it, and took a deep drag.

His smoking habit has gotten worse lately, and he's going through almost a whole pack of cigarettes a day.

As the nicotine was inhaled into his lungs and slowly exhaled, amidst the swirling smoke, the pungent burning sensation made him feel that his battered body still retained a sliver of life.

But the more numb she became, the deeper the thorn in her heart, named Shen Zhiyi, pierced.

He instinctively reached for his phone's photo album, wanting to see her pictures, even just a glimpse of her back.

But what my fingers touched was a screen shattered into a spiderweb-like pattern on the device.

He suddenly remembered that he had smashed his phone in his rage.

It turns out that when a person falls on hard times, even the simplest wish, like wanting to see a photo of their ex-wife, becomes an unattainable luxury.

He slumped down, as if all his strength had been drained, stuffed the scrap metal phone back into his pocket, and shuffled toward the fruit supermarket on the street corner like a walking corpse.

"Boss, a durian, please."

He leaned against the counter, his voice muffled.

"Alright!" The woman who was knitting behind the counter stood up with a smile, deftly picking out a large durian with plump flesh and sharp thorns for him. She looked up at him, her tone carrying a hint of familiar curiosity, "Oh, young man, why are you buying fruit today? Where's your wife?"

Xu Zhesheng paused, his fingers clenching slightly at his sides. He opened his mouth, his throat feeling like it was stuffed with a wet cotton ball, and after a long while, he managed to squeeze out a few words in a low voice: "She...something happened."

The woman worked quickly and efficiently, splitting open the durian's hard shell with a knife in no time, scooping out the golden, soft flesh, putting it into a transparent plastic box, closing the lid, and handing it to him.

She wiped her hands, as if remembering something, patted his shoulder, and said earnestly:

"It's good that you know how to cherish your wife now. You don't know, before, every time your wife came to buy fruit, she would only pick the ones you liked. Like this durian, she was clearly craving it, and every time she passed the stall, she would stare at that pile of golden fruit for a few more seconds, but she never bought any."

The woman sighed, her eyes filled with emotion: "Once, I thought she had never tried durian before, so I specially saved half a ripe one for her to try. Guess what? She laughed and said that she actually really likes durian, but because her husband doesn't like the smell of durian and she's afraid of bothering him when she gets home, she doesn't even dare to buy it, let alone eat it."

"Such an understanding and considerate wife is a rare find these days. Young man, you must cherish her!"

The woman's last words, "Cherish it well," struck Xu Zhesheng's eardrums like a heavy hammer.

He stood frozen in place, clutching the still slightly warm durian box tightly in his hand, his knuckles turning white from the force.

"...Thank you." He almost scrambled down the money, grabbed the durian, and fled the fruit shop as if his life depended on it.

A night breeze blew, and his eyes reddened.

Memories flooded my mind like a torrent.

Five years ago, when the two had just gotten married.

Shen Zhiyi happily carried a durian home, her face beaming with a bright smile.

But as soon as he entered, he was choked by the strong, sweet, and sour smell, which made him frown.

At that time, durian was so expensive to him that it was a joke. He had never tasted it before, and the unfamiliar discomfort made him instinctively irritable.

He blurted out, in an almost disgusted tone, "Can you please not eat this awful-smelling stuff in front of me? It's disgusting."

He still remembers Shen Zhiyi's expression at that time.

She paused for a moment.

Those bright eyes seemed to have all their brilliance instantly drained away, the corners of her mouth that had been turned up gradually drooped, and the light in her eyes dimmed into ashes.

She didn't dare to utter a word of rebuttal, but silently carried the durian into the kitchen.

He was too preoccupied with his own troubles to pay attention to how she dealt with the durian afterwards.

All he remembered was that when he came out of the room again, it was spotless. He couldn't see any trace of durian, and even the smell had been completely covered up by her aromatherapy.

He didn't take it seriously, only feeling that he had some peace and quiet.

But afterwards, I never saw her buy durian again.

It wasn't until today, until the fruit shop owner's words hit his ears, that he belatedly realized that it wasn't that she didn't like him; she just loved him too much. She loved him so much that she would completely suppress all her own preferences for him with a casual expression of dislike, and wouldn't even dare to touch him anymore.

Xu Zhesheng lingered downstairs like a lost soul for a long time until the night wind made the wound on his face sting, before he finally dragged himself home.

Pushing open the door, there was still no sign of cooking; no one was cooking.

Fortunately, his stomach was churning and he didn't want to eat anything.

He handed the durian to Su Manman, too lazy to even lift his eyelids, wanting only to quickly return to his room, lie down, and shut out the world.

With durian in hand, Su Manman's anger subsided considerably.

She snatched the box, too lazy to even pick up a spoon, and directly grabbed a piece of golden fruit with her hand and stuffed it into her mouth.

Xu Zhesheng felt a spasm in his stomach as he looked at it, and disgustedly looked away, fleeing back to his room and slamming the door shut.

He fell heavily onto the bed, and just as he was about to close his eyes and rest for a while, he heard the child crying outside again.

One sound after another, sharp and hoarse, like a dull saw, repeatedly tugging at his already taut nerves.