My husband works in the entertainment industry. He is the president of a media company, to be exact. I am a famous author. People have called me by many names—for example, the industry’s famous suspense novelist, XX’s last conscience.
We met at university, when I still didn’t have a house. I met him through a club and after about a year of getting to know each other, he began to pursue me. At that time, he was just an ordinary university student.
After graduation, I soon became famous from publishing a book but the business media he had studied still wasn’t deemed that useful. He couldn’t even find a job and the company he had later founded with his friend, soon declared bankruptcy because of financial problems. I tried to find one of my few editor friends to give him some publicity to help him get out of the crisis.
I know that my husband’s company is currently the number one in the country’s entertainment industry. I guess the connection had started with that company.
Through checking the childhood sweetheart’s name, I found out that he was basically a famous celebrity. He made his debut at my husband’s company 11 years ago soon becoming a front-line celebrity with the company favoring resources to him.
I found his Weibo and saw that he was called little sweetheart by his fans. I really wanted to puke. His Weibo had a few followers. I rummaged through his posts for the last 10 years. He posted: I met with my first love. The picture was two hands holding each other. I opened it in photoshop and compared it with my husband’s photos. Match!
They had been hooking up since the beginning. It was even in the year when my husband’s company had just recently become public.
So disgusting.
I felt as disgusted as a housefly.