Li Lingling, who had taught classes all day, was always anxious after the students had gone home, whether it was because of the inner turmoil she felt, or because she found herself increasingly leaning towards Chen An.
Li Lingling could have rejected Chen An's advances outright, but through their interactions, it seemed like she had grown accustomed to having Chen An in her life. More importantly, Chen An could provide Li Lingling with what she longed for.
Yet, a vestige of reserve lingered in Li Lingling's heart, leaving her torn between reason and fantasy.
That afternoon, Li Lingling returned to her dormitory to find her husband, Zhao Xiaoming, sitting on the small sofa. He had been watching her intently since she walked through the door.
"Wife, you're finally back from class. Are you tired today? Let me massage your legs," Zhao Xiaoming stood up. Although one of his legs was slightly disabled, he could walk with an appearance of normalcy that most would not notice.
