The Weight of a Lie

Dongyi retreated into the guest room, adjacent to the master bedroom. She didn’t bother to wash up, nor did she even shed her outer clothes. Instead, she simply curled into a tight ball on the bed.

Though she was typically meticulous about cleanliness, at this moment, she dared not step into the bathroom.

She was afraid.

‘What an unbearable sight must I be now?’

Dongyi dreaded catching a glimpse of her current appearance in the humid mist, reflected in the mirror.

The cruel reality, she knew, would shatter her heart.

‘What if her family were to discover her like this?’

A deeper fear gnawed at Dongyi: what path would her family be forced down if even a single strand of hair, not belonging to the identity of “Liao Dongyi,” were left behind at the dressing table or the drain?

The Liao Dongyi of the past had been a middle-aged man with ordinary black, short hair. The current Dongyi, however, possessed a head of shoulder-length, ice-blue hair, as chillingly beautiful as a glacier.

As an experienced Investigator, she knew precisely how to piece together the truth from the most minute clues. She was, naturally, also well-versed in the art of counter-investigation.

A single strand of hair. A flake of skin. A faint, unusual scent.

Any of these could become the key to unraveling her disguise.

Dongyi knew, with a chilling certainty, that this “optical mimicry” disguise cloaking her body was far from seamless.

It was merely a fragile, hollow shell, retaining only its outward form. The moment genuine physical contact occurred—a forceful embrace, perhaps, or an intimate caress—the soft touch, utterly distinct from a male physique, would instantly expose everything.

This, then, was the most fundamental reason she dared not engage in any intimate contact with her wife.

‘Perhaps I shouldn’t have come back, but… how I yearned for them.’

Lies and fear wove themselves into an invisible, formidable net, binding Dongyi tightly and leaving her caught in an agonizing dilemma.

Physical exhaustion and the immense mental pressure surged over her like a relentless tide. Amidst these endless worries, the enigmatic beauty gradually allowed her heavy eyelids to fall shut, plunging into the realm of dreams.

Her dreamscape was a monochrome world, reminiscent of a bleak, old film.

She dreamt she was standing in the center of her living room. Her identity, in this dream, had been exposed, and she had already lost her job.

Her wife and daughter stood opposite her, their gazes unsettlingly unfamiliar, unlike anything she had ever witnessed.

“You…” Her dream-wife, Bai Jie, was the first to speak, her voice as frigid as a winter wind. “To think… you’re no longer the steadfast man you once were.”

“Look at you now; you’re even more delicate than I am…”

“I had hoped to have another child with you, yet you hid this from us, becoming a man who can no longer sire children.”

“It’s truly disgusting!”

“No… that’s not it! That’s not what I wanted!”

Her daughter, Liao Xinyi, spoke next, her youthful face etched with a cold indifference that felt utterly alien to her father.

“Indeed,” she said, “you can neither protect us nor produce Black Iron Coins now. What use are you to us in this state?”

“We should separate.”

Her wife and daughter declared in unison, their words echoing like a pre-written verdict.

“No… please don’t…”

In her dream, she was overwhelmed with grief, her knees buckling as she collapsed to the ground.

She reached out, desperate to grasp them, yet her hands closed only on the void of empty air.

Dongyi’s pleas were choked with tears, blurring her vision. “Bai Jie, Xinyi, please, I beg you, don’t leave me…”

Yet, her dream-wife and daughter merely stared at her with cold indifference, their eyes devoid of even a flicker of lingering affection.

“At this point, you can’t possibly expect to stop us from finding someone better, can you?”

The words had barely faded when a tall, indistinct male figure materialized behind them. With effortless grace, the man extended his arms, drawing her wife and daughter into an embrace. Then, he lowered his head, casting a cruel, victorious smile upon her as she knelt on the ground.

“Darling~” “Daddy~”

Dongyi watched, horrified, as her wife and daughter addressed the blurry figure with the very endearments that had once been hers.

“Rest assured,” the blurry figure stated, “Your wife and daughter, I shall provide for them. I will take good care of them.”

With that, her wife and daughter turned and walked away with the man, never once looking back. Their forms gradually dissolved into the distant darkness.

She yearned to pursue them, yet her legs felt as if they were filled with lead, impossibly heavy. No matter how desperately she struggled, she remained rooted to the spot.

Dongyi could only watch helplessly as they drifted further and further away, until they vanished from sight.

A wave of extreme panic and despair seized her heart. With every ounce of her strength, she let out a gut-wrenching cry, screaming her wife’s name.

“Bai Jie—Bai Jie! Aaaaaaah—”

Suddenly, a pair of soft, warm hands gently clasped her tightly clenched ones.

“Hm? I’m right here.”

Her wife’s familiar voice murmured beside her ear.

The tangible warmth in her hands was like a beam of light, instantly piercing through the barrier of her dream.

Dongyi jolted awake, gasping for breath, her forehead slick with cold sweat that plastered her hair to her skin. Still disoriented, she opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was her wife, Bai Jie’s face, so close she could almost feel her breath, adorned with a faint, gentle smile.

Bai Jie was perched on the edge of the bed, one hand gently cradling Dongyi’s damp, clammy hand, while the other tenderly attempted to wipe away the cold sweat from her brow.

Dongyi flinched, a shiver running through her entire body. She violently snatched her hand away and jerked her head back, putting as much distance as possible between herself and her wife.

“Did you have a nightmare? You were screaming so loudly.”

Her wife wasn’t angered, merely smiling gently.

“Speaking of which, you seem to have put on some weight. Your hands feel fleshier.”

“Holding them now, it’s actually much more comfortable than before, isn’t it? Heh heh—”

In this moment, the stark contrast between the terror of her dream and the warmth of reality was almost unbearable.

Dongyi’s eyes welled up, and an almost irresistible impulse surged through her. She yearned desperately, utterly, to throw herself into her wife’s embrace, to hold her tightly, to feel her warmth, and to confirm that she was still here, that she hadn’t left.

Yet, the instant this powerful urge arose, it was ruthlessly suppressed by cold, hard reason.

She couldn’t.

She dared not.

It was then that Dongyi truly registered her wife’s attire for the evening, which struck her as rather… suggestive.

It was a white nightgown, imbued with a distinctly alluring charm, its design leaning more towards sensual lingerie than a mere sleepwear garment.

Delicate white lace and translucent chiffon barely concealed the most vital areas, subtly outlining the voluptuous curves that time had perfectly ripened, exuding the alluring charm of a mature wife.

The air was filled with a delicate yet rich and inviting fragrance—the pure, beautiful scent of gardenias, much like her wife’s name itself.

‘Ah…’ A long-dormant memory was instantly reawakened.

‘This was the very outfit she wore, and the perfume she used, on that first night we shared as newlyweds…’

Yet, this wife before her, radiating a lethal allure, was akin to a scorching hot potato in Dongyi’s current state. She dared not approach, and certainly not touch her.

“Does it look good? Does it seem familiar?”

Her wife chuckled, seemingly oblivious to Dongyi’s rigidity, even a hint of girlish shyness in her tone.

“After Yuan Yuan was born, I haven’t worn this dress in ages. I didn’t expect it to feel a bit tight now that I’m wearing it again.”

“Speaking of which, you wouldn’t find me undesirable now… a woman past her prime, would you?”

As she spoke, she edged a few inches closer to Dongyi, the space between them shrinking until they could almost feel each other’s breath.

Dongyi instinctively recoiled, her throat working involuntarily as she swallowed hard.

A woman of her age was often considered to be in the prime of her vitality, a period of heightened desire. Bai Jie seemed to have shed all pretense, her eyes growing hazy, her voice acquiring a lazy, husky quality.

“You’ve had a short nap; surely you’ve regained some of your strength?”

Her wife licked her lips, a gesture that suggested a sudden thirst.

“How about we begin now?”

Before the words had fully left her lips, Bai Jie braced herself with both hands on the bedsheet. Like an elegant yet dangerous feline, she began to slowly inch closer to Dongyi.

Her body leaned slightly forward, and the neckline of her nightgown gaped open with gravity, revealing a dazzling expanse of snow-white skin.

At this sight, Dongyi’s heart leaped into her throat.

She watched with wide, terrified eyes as her wife’s well-maintained, fair, and soft hands, imbued with an irresistible tenderness, slowly extended towards her chest. It seemed Bai Jie intended to help her shed the crumpled shirt, already thoroughly soaked with sweat…

But in the next instant.

“No! Absolutely not now!”

Dongyi gritted her teeth, squeezed her eyes shut, and refused with fierce resolve.