An Jin’s words once again overturned my reasoning. Seeing me dejected, he quickly comforted me and affirmed my efforts to think actively and communicate appropriately. I seized the opportunity to request that he return those erotic picture albums. He flatly refused without mercy. After a moment of contemplation, he warned me not to sneak a peek at those albums in his study. In fact, if he hadn’t said this, I wouldn’t have known those albums were hidden in his study.
The next day happened to be a day off.
To enjoy private time with An Jin, I left my study in Que’er’s care, not expecting An Jin to leave early in the morning with the excuse of urgent matters, standing me up. Before leaving, he warned me again not to go into the study.
Driven by curiosity and a rebellious mindset, I made my way to the study. It was usually locked, yet strangely, it was unlocked that day. Yuan Xiang crouched at the door to keep watch as I pushed the door open.
I rarely entered his study due to a tragic memory about seahorse soup. However, this time, to find the albums and return them to Chen Piao, I steeled myself. Revisiting an old place stirred psychological shadows, and I even hallucinated hearing An Jin’s voice.
I took deep breaths, telling myself An Jin could not possibly be here. After several attempts, I dared to continue searching. I found my erotic pictures on the bottom shelf of the bookcase.
Excitedly hugging the erotic pictures, I accidentally bumped something, and the entire bookcase suddenly tilted. I was startled and called out, “Husband, I was wrong!”
No response. An Jin was not here at all.
Tears streamed down my face; I was quite the unique wife, being this timid. Beside the tilted bookcase, the wall moved to one side, revealing a small path paved with blue stone bricks, sloping downward, just wide enough for one person to pass, looking somewhat eerie.
