Hearing Zhang Qin's explanation, Zhao Tianxing just kept taking notes, his lips pursed, showing little reaction.
But Chen Chao, who was next to him, inexplicably felt a chill run down his spine.
He was married and had a child.
They had been married for many years, long past the initial, honey-sweet phase of deep affection.
All that remained was the tedious drudgery of life.
His son was eleven and a real handful.
His wife was a college graduate—strong-willed, with high expectations for their son.
Things had been fine before, but his wife's temper had grown worse in recent years. She was always complaining that he was too busy with work and didn't have enough time for her or their child.
She had her own job, had to worry about their son, and had to manage the household chores. She never used to complain, but now she did.
His job meant they rarely saw each other, and when they did, they always seemed to talk past one another.
Sometimes, Chen Chao got annoyed, too.
