Chapter 2The Relationship Expert Insisted on Testing My Boyfriend

I was involuntarily drawn to her cover image: a screenshot of her chat history with Adam. At first, she awkwardly tried various topics, but once she discovered Adam loved gaming, the two immediately clicked. He even took her on a duo-queue, and afterward, kept marveling at how skilled she was as a girl, much better than his girlfriend who couldn’t play games.

My grip on the phone tightened. Indeed, Adam was very good at games. In contrast, I was terrible. Every time we duo-queued, I only dragged him down, and he would save me while assuring me it was okay. Realizing I was just a hindrance, over time, I stopped playing with him.

Netizens quickly flooded the comments below.

“My God, is she seriously not breaking up with him?” followed by frantic @-mentions of me.

“She’s such a doting wife, what can she break up with? She’s destined to eat scraps for life.”

“Hard work for the blogger, how can you even chat with such a disgusting man?”

The relationship expert gently replied: “Sweetie, it’s not hard work. Mainly, I want to help sisters see men clearly.”

The netizens were in an uproar, rushing to hug her: “The blogger is too kind, too bad the doting wife doesn’t appreciate it.”

“It’s okay, some girls are smarter, some are a bit slower. We need to be patient. I’ll keep working hard to make her realize.”

Below was a cute heart-hand emoji.

Netizens were moved by her warm words, praising her extensively, and her followers surged overnight. I also clicked on her avatar to her profile, which was filled with posts exposing other people’s boyfriends. Each post’s main image had “Identified as Scum” in large characters, followed by a chorus of praise in the comments, and even people thanking her.

So, was it my turn now?

Just then, the door opened. I looked at Adam walking into the room, my expression darkening. I asked again, “Adam, I can trust you, right?”

Adam tilted his head, seemingly confused, then smiled, walked over, and pulled me into his embrace, nuzzling his forehead against mine: “Of course.”

“Okay, I trust you.”

I put down my phone, turned off the lights, and went to rest.

After that, I didn’t go online again, and Adam showed no unusual behavior. I thought that in a few days, once a new scandal appeared, they would simply move on.

But a few days later, while resting after meeting a client, I saw Adam’s back in a nearby pedestrian street. He stood tall, in a black jacket, striking in the crowd. Equally striking was the beautiful woman beside him, in a black fitted dress, smiling as she held his hand—it was the online relationship expert.

I clutched my handbag, quickened my pace. Just as I was about to reach them, the expert loosened her grip, running off as if to avoid suspicion. Leaving Adam to turn around, looking surprised and flustered at me: “Zoe, what are you doing here?”

My gaze swept over him, then to the person who had run off, my tone cold: “Who was that person?”

He avoided my gaze, saying, “A salesperson, insisting on pitching products to me.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

Adam was the owner of a large club, usually at his store. Today, he had come all the way out here.

He smiled: “I heard you were here for a business meeting, and I planned to pick you up for dinner after you finished.”

He even pulled out his phone to show me, a reservation at a couples’ restaurant. Although I didn’t like the overly flashy decor, thinking of his good intentions, I readily agreed.

The food was quite palatable. After eating, I was in a good mood and idly played with my phone, wanting to see if the online fuss had died down. No sooner had I opened it than I saw the expert’s new post: “Sweetie, you ate my dinner.”

The picture showed me happily chatting with Adam as I ate. Adam happened to be looking down, not at me, his back seeming somewhat lonely and distracted at that moment.

I instantly looked towards where the photo was taken, but the spot was already empty. My good mood vanished. Annoyance swelled within me. I accidentally glanced at the sarcastic comments in the comment section, and a lump formed in my throat, impossible to swallow.

Just then, the expert messaged me, her tone still full of feigned sympathy: “Sweetie, I’m sure you’ve seen it. That scumbag probably still told you I was a salesperson, right?”

A surge of nameless anger churned in my chest, and my tone grew irritable: “Let me remind you again, I don’t need your so-called assessment. Please stay away from me and my boyfriend!”

The expert remained calm and collected: “Every woman reacts like this when facing reality. But it’s okay; I believe you’ll come to thank me soon enough.”

“Enough. One last thing: deliberately interfering in other people’s relationships, no matter the reason, is being a homewrecker.”

She sighed helplessly: “Alright, I’ll help you assess him a bit longer.”