Chapter 109: Zhao Ming Loses Control

Zhao Ming claimed he needed to revise his manuscript, but in reality, his mind was occupied with the live broadcast of the English Premier League. He intended to watch the scores in real-time on a sports betting site while simultaneously placing wagers to recoup his losses.

He carefully placed his laptop on Xiyu’s small desk and opened a document, using it as a cover. Dujuan had repeatedly warned him against online betting; she had made it clear that if she discovered him gambling, her temper would ensure there would be no easy way out for him. Zhao Ming understood this perfectly and dared not cross the line, at least on the surface.

However, his current situation was dire. He had accumulated a substantial debt—a sum he could never resolve without a windfall. He felt compelled to take the risk and gamble once more. He told himself that if he won, it would be a blessing, but he also knew that if he failed, he would sink deeper into a bottomless pit of his own making. The sheer scale of the potential disaster was too much to contemplate, and a shudder ran through him.

Glancing toward Dujuan, who was sitting on the bed in the bedroom, he saw she was engrossed in her favorite Korean drama. Judging by her expressions and her occasional bursts of laughter, she was completely absorbed in the plot.

Seizing a moment when she was distracted, Zhao Ming navigated to the betting site and quickly placed a five-thousand-yuan bet on the Premier League match he had been eyeing.

He was not satisfied with just one game. The site was filled with a dizzying array of matches, and he felt the urge to gamble on everything.

***

At Hexi Vocational College, Zhang Chi headed home after class. Before leaving, he had called Fan Wei, who had promised to lend him money to help with his urgent situation. He waited at home, hoping Fan Wei and his head coach would arrive at his Aunt Fan’s place.

With no word from Fan Wei, Zhang Chi felt anxious and made his way to his aunt’s house. He saw that familiar sports car parked outside; he knew it belonged to Da He and the head coach. Ever since that hazy night with Aunt Fan, Coach Nian had become a frequent visitor.

As their relationship deepened, the initial awkwardness faded, and Aunt Fan lost the shyness of a long-widowed woman touching a man for the first time. They felt they had found their perfect match, and happiness seemed to follow them everywhere.

The front door to the first floor was locked, but the lights were on upstairs. Zhang Chi assumed his aunt was spending time with the coach. He felt a pang of confusion—why hadn't Fan Wei arrived? They had an agreement; surely, he wouldn't go back on his word? His heart hammered in his chest, a chaotic mess of nerves.

He pressed his face against the door, trying to hear any movement inside. Suddenly, the door swung open, and Zhang Chi nearly stumbled into the room. Fortunately, the door opened silently. He decided to tiptoe upstairs, hoping to catch a glimpse of the adults' conversation.

Reaching the second floor, he strained his ears and heard Aunt Fan and Coach Nian talking.

"Here, this is thirty thousand yuan in cash. Fan Wei told me a friend of Zhang Chi’s had an emergency, so I brought the cash. Tell Zhang Chi to come get it. Fan Wei specifically asked not to pry into which friend it is, to avoid making things awkward," the coach said.

"Oh, the boy mentioned this to me. He’s always so caught up in that sense of 'loyal brotherhood.' He helps anyone in trouble. I know him too well," Aunt Fan replied. She carefully placed the money into the nightstand and locked it.

Twenty minutes later, Zhao Ming’s betting was not going well. Losing control, he seized another moment of Dujuan’s distraction to increase his stake to over twenty thousand yuan.

Zhao Ming had only one thought: to resolve his current predicament as quickly as possible. He could no longer afford to consider the consequences if he failed again. His desperation had clouded his judgment, driving him toward an obsession that any rational person would find absurd. Yet, he remained immersed in his impossible, hollow world.

Time ticked away, and the match was nearing its end, but the results were not going as he had predicted. According to the media analysis, Aston was supposed to be in a position of strength, but they were currently trailing by a goal. With less than twenty minutes left, it should have been possible for a team like that to equalize. But reality was cruel; the harder he wished for the score to turn around, the more the game moved in the opposite direction.

Of his twenty-thousand-yuan stake, only one match had gone in his favor. The others had failed. After accounting for the losses and the vigorish, he was down nearly eleven thousand yuan.

The match ended. Dujuan glanced at her phone and looked over at him. "Two hours have passed. Is the manuscript finished, dear?"

Because he had only won on one bet, Zhao Ming was plunged into a fresh wave of agony. Regret, a thousand times over, consumed him, but there was no remedy for his mistakes. He thought, "How could I be so stupid? Why didn't I bet on the opponent?" The questions buzzed in his head like a swarm of bees, making his skull feel as though it might explode.

The loss was set in stone. His mind grew numb, and the sounds of the outside world became nothing but noise. He didn't seem to hear Dujuan’s voice.

Noticing his lack of response, Dujuan looked closer and saw he was deep in an indescribable distress. "Isn't it finished yet? You usually finish so quickly. Why are you so slow today?"

Zhao Ming finally heard her. He knew she was reminding him that time was up and that he was supposed to massage her aching back.

Having just lost money, he was in no mood to comply. To him, Dujuan’s presence was a distraction that had ruined his betting. He had thought countless times that if not for her constant surveillance, he could have been as calm as Xiao Jin and would not have ended up in this situation. A nameless rage began to burn within him, and he wanted to unleash it all on her.

He stood up, his face filled with impatience. "Why do you keep interrupting me? Can’t you just sit there quietly and watch TV until I’m done? You’re really infuriating!"

Dujuan, who had been in a great mood while watching her show, had only intended to offer a gentle reminder, as they had agreed. She was stunned by Zhao Ming’s hysterical outburst.

"Have you lost your mind?" she asked, looking at him with surprise and hurt. "I only reminded you of the time; I just wanted a massage. Is that worth such a temper?"

"You’re always like this! You constantly nag me while I’m working. Other men have wives who serve them tea while they work at home, but you? You make me serve you. How am I supposed to concentrate? I’m sick of it! Whenever you’re around, I can’t get anything done!" he snapped back.

Dujuan, stung by his words, finally snapped. "Oh, so other men have wives who serve them, and I’m a hindrance? Fine! Go find someone to serve you then, because I’m not that submissive! If I’m such an eyesore, get out of my sight! Go chase your career; I don't care how well you do!" She got out of bed, trembling with rage.

Already in a foul mood from his losses, Zhao Ming was pushed to the edge by her retort. He slammed his laptop shut with a dull thud. Beside it sat a half-full teacup. He picked it up and held it high. Dujuan watched, confused by his actions.

Before she could react, he hurled the cup to the floor. It shattered, glass shards flying everywhere, tea splashing up to the ceiling, leaving a few tea leaves stuck to the plaster.

The sound of the shattering glass left Dujuan frozen in shock. She had never seen her husband lose his temper like this. The gentle man she knew seemed to have vanished, replaced by someone she no longer recognized.