My Weekend Lover Turned Out To Be My Boss - Chapter 21

Chapter 21: Visiting the Prison. “Telling Lies”

The Qixi Festival had somewhat eased our relationship. I was even planning to bring Qing Fan, who was on summer vacation, home. However, since Phoebe told me to reflect deeply, I stayed in my small apartment, sincerely contemplating. As for that old movie, Shadow of a Kick, I patiently watched it every day, like a child reviewing homework.

The romantic comedy starring Cecilia Cheung and Louis Koo clearly resonated with Phoebe, suggesting she longed for the kind of commitment between the protagonists that remains relevant even by modern standards. So, every day while brushing my teeth, I would recite that classic monologue in the mirror:

‘From now on, I will only cherish you, pamper you, and never lie to you. I will keep every promise I make to you. Every word I speak to you will be the truth. I will not bully you, I will not scold you, and I will trust you. If anyone bullies you, I will be there to help you immediately. When you are happy, I will be happy with you. When you are unhappy, I will comfort you until you are happy. I will always think you are the most beautiful, and I will even dream of you. In my heart, there is only you!’

However, in my opinion, what truly stood out was the dialogue between the Emperor and the heroine in the film: ‘Liu Shi of Hedong, look closely at your husband. Look at his inherent charm, his remarkable talent. It is his destiny to attract attention. Do you think that by blocking the Princess from entering your home, he will no longer cause romantic trouble in the future?’

The heroine, facing the Emperor’s might, replied calmly: ‘The romantic debts must be repaid, and the romantic disasters must be averted. Yue’e is destined to be plagued by fear all her life, averting all romantic disasters for Ji Chang. Even if I am covered in scars from blocking them, I will never back down. Your Majesty, you need not worry about me.’

I was like the heroine, Liu Yue’e, enjoying my lover’s glory while also having to fend off countless external disturbances. I had to trust unconditionally, yet also firmly resist doubt. So, I saw my own shadow in the movie and simultaneously understood Phoebe’s intention.

On a leisurely, sunny afternoon in the height of summer, I received a notice from the prison: I could now visit Zhao Taian with proof of identity. So, I bought a package of fruit and some snacks, and I also prepared a small amount of cash for him to spend in jail.

Do not wonder why I suddenly felt the urge to care for a former enemy. He deserved his punishment, yet there was a pathetic side to him. I saw it as visiting him on behalf of Duo Ran, and I also wanted to see how miserable he was. I would feel happiness in his suffering. His downfall marked the dissipation of my fiery spirit. Looking at him, I could see the reckless You Feifan of the past.

So, as I drove all the way and sat in the visitation room, staring at the bald Zhao Taian through the window, I felt a slight sadness. It wasn’t because of his emaciation or haggard appearance, but because this scene reminded me of when I, too, wore a prison uniform, separated from freedom by a thick wall—a dark and desperate history that made me increasingly afraid to recall as I grew older.

“You Feifan? What are you doing here?”

Zhao Taian’s tone held no hatred, but great surprise. I answered with a smile: “Of course, to catch up with an ‘old friend’ like you.”

Zhao Taian’s fingers gently tapped the table in contemplation. Finally, he mumbled to himself, “Strange. A ‘dear old friend’ visited a few days ago, too. This place is certainly bustling.”

I looked at him in confusion but didn’t ask who it was. It was probably one of his friends. So I spoke of domestic matters: “How is your reformation going?”

“Do you want to hear the good news or the bad news?”

“Tell me both.”

“The good news is that my life sentence has been changed to a fixed-term sentence. The bad news is that even with the reduced sentence, I still have decades to serve.”

I raised an eyebrow and nodded easily: “That’s good. At least there’s hope.”

“Aren’t you afraid that I’ll come out one day and seek revenge on you?”

“Afraid? I’ve lost my freedom too, so I know the suffering. By that time, even if you have the desire for revenge, you won’t have the strength to bear the consequences, will you? Besides, that’s years away. Will you still have the energy to fight with me? I brought you some food and money. You should sincerely turn over a new leaf.”

“Are you pitying me?”

“Do I look like the kind of person who would pity you? I came to see how miserable you are, so I won’t forget how miserable you made me. Ever.”

My words didn’t provoke anger in Zhao Taian. He no longer had the hot temper of years past; instead, he seemed relaxed, as if he had escaped a sea of bitterness. However, his expression darkened the next moment, and he spoke with venomous emphasis: “I harmed the two lives most important to you, and I made you serve time. Yet, I am alive and well, with food and clothes in here. Looking at it this way, who is more miserable?”

Zhao Taian’s words left me speechless. I could only smile and fight back: “But you’ve lost your freedom for the rest of your life, you are utterly abandoned, and your future is ruined. You’ll be spat on even if you get out alive. When it comes to misery, I certainly won’t win against you.”

Suddenly remembering something, I continued to smile: “I don’t know if I mentioned a dream the last time I visited you. I dreamed that you and Duo Ran were sitting at an outdoor coffee shop. You picked up your child from the stroller and, like a good family man, you soothed the baby while feeding them, humming a lullaby. You will never see that scene in this lifetime.”

I watched Zhao Taian’s eyes widen. In the face of my casual remarks, his forced composure gradually shattered, and his eyes became slightly red and moist. He might have learned how to repent in this small corner of the world, but he would never be favored by heaven again. What was lost was destined never to be repeated.

I prepared to stand up and leave, but Zhao Taian hammered on the glass, almost alarming the guards. I picked up the receiver again. Time was running out. Zhao Taian muttered incoherently, “You Feifan! I know… I know a secret, but I won’t tell you. You think you are the victim of fate, you think you’ve never done anything wrong, so you enjoy the good life you have now! You will live in misery, you will be very miserable, and you will lose everything you have!”

The guards intervened, forcefully pulling Zhao Taian away from the visitation room. I stood frozen, frowning deeply, not understanding what he was saying. Was he just raving mad?

It was also starting from this day that the misery Zhao Taian spoke of became reality. Returning home, I saw an envelope wrapped in brown paper by the door, with no sender information. I walked into the house with curiosity. Just as I was about to tear open the package, Phoebe called.

“Feifan, what are you doing?”

“I went to the prison.”

“The prison? Zhao Taian?”

“Mhm.”

“What made you want to see him?”

“Nothing much going on, so I decided to find something to do. What’s up?”

“I have to go on a business trip. Just letting you know.”

“Are you going to be away for long?”

“Yes, at least a month. Go stay at the ancestral home for a while and look after Qing Fan. Don’t let Su Wei and my second brother spoil her, lest they make her too wild again. When I get back, we’ll go home.”

“You’re going to be away for that long? Wife, what am I supposed to do if I miss you?”

“Then miss me~ You are not allowed to go running off to drink at clubs. Even if you do, don’t get familiar with female patrons. If I find out, I’ll hold you accountable!”

“Understood!”

With a relaxed and happy mood, I tore open the package. The photos that scattered across the floor shattered that brief feeling of happiness. I knelt on the floor and frantically picked up the pictures. Guan Shuyun’s arm was looped around Phoebe’s shoulder. They were seen going in and out of different venues, each wearing different expressions, looking perfectly natural, like a couple on a date.

“Who is it!”

I whispered a fierce question. Who was taking these candid photos in secret, and why were they mailed to me? I instantly fell into a dilemma. Love compelled me to trust her, and years of history compelled me to trust her. Why was my firm belief so easily shattered? Who should I believe—these photos of unknown origin, or Phoebe, who had just hung up the phone?