Chapter 1 — Three Calls at Dawn

Late at night, in the master bedroom of the villa. I had just finished breastfeeding my baby, my breasts were still tight, when I heard the sound of the door closing coming from downstairs. Thinking he was coming home, I took my child downstairs, but saw a pair of red high heels that weren't mine on the doorstep. Very high heels, size 36, limited product from Chanel. My husband - Luc Canh Tham - was bending down to help that woman put on her shoes, his gentle movements as if he were cradling a fragile item. That was the same man who once grumpily said to me: "Don't you have arms?" when I was eight months pregnant and asked him to put on my shoes for me. "Canh Tham, your wife is at home, aren't you afraid she'll see it?" The woman's voice was sweet. "It's fine if you see it." Luc Canh Tham didn't even lift his head, "After giving birth, she didn't even have the strength to let out her hot temper." I stood at the corner of the stairs, my three-month-old daughter suddenly groaning in my arms. Both of them raised their heads at the same time. That woman —— I recognized it, was the newly arrived PR Director of his company, Lam Uyen Thanh, 26 years old, slim figure, sophisticated makeup. Compared to a disheveled mother like me who hasn't regained her shape after giving birth, it's truly a world of difference. Lam Uyen Thanh saw me but didn't feel the least bit guilty. She smiled and took Luc Canh Tham's hand: "Hello sister-in-law, I'm sorry to bother you." Luc Canh Tham saw me holding my child standing on the stairs, his eyes flashed with impatience: "Why aren't you sleeping yet? You can't soothe a crying child, what are you doing at home all day?" I don't cry. Three months after giving birth, I had cried enough. I picked up my child and turned back to my room, locking the door. He heard the sound of the door closing downstairs - he sent Lam Uyen Thanh home. Then there was the sound of footsteps going upstairs. He turned the doorknob, discovered it was locked, snorted coldly, then turned to the spare bedroom. At two o'clock in the morning, I breastfed my baby for the second time, opened my phone, and looked at my contacts. There were three names on it, his three best brothers, who were also the groomsmen at our wedding. I really don't have anyone else to turn to for help.—Chapter 1: Three phone calls at dawn 2:17 am. To Niem Vi gently placed the baby back in the crib, confirmed that the baby was sound asleep, then picked up the phone and walked barefoot to the balcony. Three months after giving birth, the swelling in her legs still hadn't gone away. Her previous slippers no longer fit, so she had to let her bare feet step on the cold tile floor. She opened her mother-in-law's WeChat first. The most recent message was a week ago, she sent a photo of her child and said: *"Mom, the baby can now lift its head"*. The mother-in-law replied with two words: *"That's good."* Scrolling up a little further, is her request for help during the month of pregnancy: *"Mom, I have mastitis and fever, can you come and help me look after me for a day?"*. The mother-in-law replied: *"I've made an appointment with my friends to go to Sanya, so you should hire a nanny."* A nanny is hired, but she can only work for a month. Luc Canh Tham criticized it for being expensive, saying: *"You don't work, stay at home and take care of your children, but you still have to spend 20,000 yuan to hire someone, the money is just leaves falling on the street?"* She did not argue. Because the result of quarrels is cold war. As a result of the cold war, he came home later, came home less often, and finally decided not to come home at all. She exited the chat frame with her mother-in-law, her finger hovering over her contacts. In the phonebook, there are three phone numbers saved, named "Canh Tham's brother 1", "Canh Tham's brother 2", "Canh Tham's brother 3". She never contacted them personally, all communication stopped at gatherings organized by Luc Canh Tham, where she played the role of a woman sitting obediently pouring wine, smiling.

laugh along with the story. But now, she really has no one left. Her parents live in the countryside, her mother's health is not good, she does not dare to worry them. After she gave up her career to become a full-time housewife, her friends gradually lost contact. In this two-hundred-square-meter villa, every day the only things she faces are her baby's cries, endless milk bottles, and the woman in the mirror that even she herself is about to not recognize. She took a deep breath and dialed the first number. "Canh Tham's brothers 1" —— Co Da Dinh. The phone rang twice before someone picked up. At two o'clock in the morning, a CEO of a listed corporation with tens of billions in assets, the phone rang twice and immediately answered. "Hello." A low male voice came from the receiver, not at all hoarse like someone who had just been woken up, but calm as if waiting for this call. To Niem Vi froze, suddenly not knowing what to say. Her fingers holding the phone trembled, her lips moved but no words came out. "To Niem Vi?" Co Da Dinh called her both her full name and her first name, not "sister-in-law", not "sister-in-law", but her name. The tone was so certain that it was as if he already knew who the caller was. “… President Gu.” She spoke, her voice so hoarse that it didn't sound like her own, "I'm so embarrassed, I'm still bothering you this late ——" "What's wrong with you?" He interrupted her, his voice suddenly changed, from calm to an urgency that she did not understand, "Are you crying?" She touched her face, only to discover that tears were welling up in her eyes. She didn't even realize she was crying. "I..." She wanted to say "it's okay", wanted to say "it's a bother", wanted to say the dignified, proper words that a standard housewife should say. But his mouth opened, the sound rolled in his throat, finally turning into a broken sentence: "Co Da Dinh, I'm so tired." The other end of the line was silent for three seconds. Then Co Da Dinh said: "Send me the address, I'll be there right away." "No need... I just want to find someone to talk to..." "To Niem Vi." He called her name again, his voice was very light, but each word seemed to be hissing through his teeth, "Listen to me. You're alone with your baby, you called me at two in the morning, saying you were very tired. Do you think I'll hang up the phone and go back to sleep?" Walked barefoot back to the room, glancing at my daughter in the crib. The little girl slept very soundly, her small hands clasped tightly, her mouth slightly open. "Is the baby okay?" Co Da Dinh asked over the phone. "Sleeping." "What about you? Are you okay?" She leaned her back against the wall next to the crib, slowly sliding down to sit on the floor. "I'm not okay," she said, her voice was very quiet, as if afraid of waking her child, as well as afraid of waking up the strong shell she had always pretended to be, "Co Da Dinh, I'm really not okay." The breathing on the other end of the line suddenly became heavier. "I haven't had a full night's sleep for three months now," she said, "Every day I breastfed my baby until it cracked and bled. When the baby cried, I had to grit my teeth and bear the pain of feeding him. My belly was all stretched out, full of excess fat, my husband said he felt nauseous when he saw my body. My mother-in-law criticized me for being weak, my biological mother was in poor health, I didn't dare to tell, and all my friends left me, and now I There's not even a single person to talk to.” She stopped for a moment, hearing her own voice echoing in the empty room.