After returning home, Song Rou didn’t even stay downstairs for more than a few minutes before immediately pulling Zhou Yi upstairs.
Zhou Yi pretended to be half-reluctant as she dragged him into the bedroom upstairs.
This was the bedroom where Song Rou and Zhang Tianrui had gotten married.
It was bathed in sunlight, beautifully decorated, and had a large bed.
The room was filled with exquisite collectibles, everything neatly arranged.
Usually, the housekeeper wouldn’t enter this room—Song Rou took care of it herself.
Zhang Tianrui’s ties hung on the rack, and a few books lay by the bedside, likely ones he often read.
Zhou Yi stood at the doorway, hesitating. Thinking he was still shy, Song Rou quickly reassured him:
"Ah Yi, look—my husband even took his clothes. He really won’t be back today."
As soon as she entered the room, Song Rou closed the door behind her.
She glanced at the clothes rack by the bed and noticed the outfit that had been hanging there earlier was gone—Zhang Tianrui must have come back to retrieve it.
"Sis-in-law, what if Brother Rui hasn’t left yet? Wouldn’t it be... inappropriate for us to do this in the bedroom?"
"Oh, don’t worry. I know my husband’s habits. I used to manage all his clothes—I’d notice if even one piece was missing."
In some ways, Song Rou really was a gentle and devoted wife.
How many wealthy young ladies would willingly cook and wash clothes for their husbands? Even with a housekeeper, she insisted on doing it herself, just so Zhang Tianrui could taste her cooking every day.
In the past, she had found nothing more fulfilling than preparing meals for the man she loved.
But that was then. Now, everything had changed.
She was no longer the same loyal Song Rou.
"There’s nothing inappropriate about it. Once you decide to do something, you shouldn’t hold back."
A hint of coldness flickered across Song Rou’s face—something she had never shown before. She never imagined she’d be capable of something like this.
Perhaps realizing how harsh her words sounded, she softened her tone and smiled, running her fingers over Zhou Yi’s shirt.
"Ah Yi, don’t worry. Sis-in-law won’t treat you unfairly. My family has wealth and connections—if you ever want to establish yourself in City A, I’ll do everything to help you. Or if there’s anything else you want, just name it."
Song Rou was full of sweet promises, willing to offer anything.
It was like how men sweet-talk women into bed—when caught up in the moment, they’ll promise anything, even the stars in the sky.
But those promises are for later. Whether they still hold after leaving the bed is another matter.
Still, Song Rou was a woman of her word. Her promises likely meant something.
After drawing the curtains, she turned and walked slowly toward Zhou Yi.
"Ah Yi, give it to me. Please, as a favor to your sis-in-law, okay?"
"But... won’t Brother Rui blame me?"
Zhou Yi still played the innocent role—he needed her assurance first.
"He won’t. He owes me too. You don’t have to worry about that."
"But it’s still daytime, sis-in-law."
Zhou Yi deliberately reminded her of the hour.
Honestly, he rarely encountered women as impatient as Song Rou.
But it was oddly charming, in its own way.
Song Rou wrapped her arms around Zhou Yi’s waist, pressing her face against his chest—the first time she had ever been this intimate with anyone other than her husband.
Her heart raced.
"It’s fine. We can do it more than once—now in the day, and again tonight."
Her face flushed crimson as she spoke.
The room darkened abruptly, with only faint streaks of light seeping through the curtains.
Zhou Yi held the woman in his arms, smirking slightly. He couldn’t believe Zhang Tianrui actually...
With an opportunity like this right in front of him, there was no way he’d let it slip by.
Tilting her chin up, Zhou Yi lowered his voice. "Sis-in-law, don’t regret this later."
Song Rou bit her lip and guided his hand to her chest. "I won’t regret it. Hurry up—I’m ready."
Zhou Yi glanced toward the bedside and turned on the lamp—the room was too dim otherwise.
He scooped Song Rou up and tossed her onto the bed, eliciting a soft gasp from her.
Sinking into the plush mattress, she stared up at him expectantly.
As Zhou Yi undressed by the bed, her eyes drank him in, even swallowing nervously.
His clothes slipped to the floor, revealing a toned physique—eight-pack abs and all.
This muscle, this definition, this waistline—none of which Zhang Tianrui had.
Her husband was lean, nothing compared to Zhou Yi.
Once undressed, Zhou Yi leaned over her. Song Rou quickly looped her arms around his neck and kissed him.
Between kisses, he helped her out of her clothes.
The room soon filled with the sounds of heavy breathing.
......
Outside, the noises came to an abrupt halt with Song Rou’s sharp moan.
She clung to Zhou Yi, dazed.
So... this was what it truly meant to be a woman.
And Zhang Tianrui had never given her that.
The man had even hidden in the closet, watching it all unfold with eerie calm.
Now, Song Rou looked up at Zhou Yi’s face—he was the one who had given her what she craved.
Her gaze softened as she murmured, "Ah Yi."
Zhou Yi gently stroked her cheek before kissing her forehead. "Tired? Let me carry you to the bath."
Song Rou lowered her eyes and whispered, "Okay."
Zhou Yi gave Zhang Tianrui a chance to leave with dignity.
He deliberately carried Song Rou to the bathroom, and only then did Zhang Tianrui emerge from the closet.
Clutching his clothes, drenched in sweat, he slumped against the closet door, gasping for air as he struggled to regain his composure.
His eyes fixed on the lit bathroom, his mind conjuring images of what they might be doing inside.
Zhang Tianrui felt like he was losing his mind.
Disgust welled up inside him. He raked a hand through his hair in frustration before grabbing his clothes and fleeing the house in disgrace.
Sitting in his car, he lit a cigarette.
Smoke curled around him, but to his surprise, he didn’t feel overwhelming hatred toward Zhou Yi.
His wife had begged for it. If not Zhou Yi, it would’ve been someone else. To him, it made no difference.
The coward, the disgusting one—that was him. He was the one who hid in the closet, too afraid to make a sound.
Even a single cough might have stopped Zhou Yi.
But he hadn’t done a thing.
Zhang Tianrui took a deep drag, then immediately coughed violently.
Maybe it had been too long since he last smoked—his body couldn’t handle it.
Stubbing out the cigarette, he drove to a high-end club.
In the past, he would never have come to a place like this alone.
Back then, he’d either accompany clients or come to drag Song Rou’s brother home.
But today, he was the client.
Zhang Tianrui didn’t want to go to the office. His mind was still filled with the scenes from earlier—he needed an outlet for his anguish.
"Mr. Zhang, you’re... here alone today?"
"Yeah. Bring me the same girls from last time. And some drinks."
"Right away, sir."
For the first time in his life, he called for women.
But what he had imagined didn't happen.
No matter what those women did to him, he remained completely unresponsive.
So he still couldn’t perform.
Zhang Tianrui’s face turned ashen.
Could the psychological issue the doctor mentioned really be...?
How was this possible!
Zhang Tianrui took a frustrated swig of alcohol, his irritation with no outlet.
Those women were beautiful, with figures no worse than Song Rou’s—so why?
Was he really just that kind of pathetic man?