My Wife Is So Cool

One morning in the fifth year after graduation, my mobile phone screen suddenly lit up. It was a message from Yvonne Jones, the ex-girlfriend I had long since blocked from my contacts, yet she always managed to reach me using different numbers. "David Shawn, for the sake of our previous relationship, I'll give you a chance." "Tomorrow is my father-in-law Howard Luke's sixtieth birthday. Dress decently and come; maybe my husband will even offer you a chance of job." I stared at the words on the screen, my fingertips cold and numb. The year we broke up, she cried and said I was poor, that being with me meant a lifetime with no chance to get ahead. She turned around and married into the prestigious Luke Family in the Capital City, becoming what others called a wealthy wife. For the past five years, such boastful updates never stopped. Sometimes it was a selfie of her wearing a pigeon egg diamond ring; other times, panoramic shots of the Luke Family villa's courtyard—all captions dripping with sarcasm aimed at me. I didn't stay long; with a swipe, I wiped the messages clean. At six in the evening, the sound of keys turning came from the entrance. Quincy Scott had returned, still carrying the cool evening breeze on her. She casually tossed a gold-embellished lacquer box onto the hallway cabinet, then immediately slipped into my arms. "David, I'll have to trouble you to run an errand tomorrow." Her chin rested on my shoulder, her voice soft and coaxing. "The Luke Family sent something again, claiming it's a antique painting and calligraphy worth tens of millions." "I don’t want to accept this gift." I pinched her waist and asked why she hadn't sent the assistant. "The assistant went three times but was turned away each time by the Luke Family. They insisted it had to be delivered by a family member to be accepted." Quincy Scott looked up at me, a mischievous glint in her eyes: "Just do me this favor. I'll make your favorite Crab Roe Tofu tonight." No sooner had she finished speaking than my mobile phone rang again. It was still Yvonne Jones' number; this time she called directly. The moment I answered, her sharp voice pierced my ear: "David Shawn, are you coming tomorrow or not?" I glanced at the heavy lacquer box on the hall cabinet and sighed. "I'll go." After hanging up, Quincy Scott hugged me from behind. "Is she giving you a hard time again?" I shook my head, saying it was nothing, just going to deliver something. That night, she kept her promise, made crab roe tofu, and opened a bottle of my treasured red wine. We talked late into the night—about the new patent from my laboratory, and the project she's going abroad to discuss next week. I didn't tell her the real reason Yvonne Jones had invited me to the banquet. I didn't want her to worry over something so trivial. When I woke the next day, the sun outside the window was already high in the sky. I glanced at my mobile phone; only half an hour remained before the banquet started. I randomly grabbed a gray hoodie from the wardrobe, threw on a pair of jeans, slipped on my canvas shoes, and headed out. Quincy Scott caught an early flight to Harbor City that morning. Before leaving, she left me a note reminding me to drive her black Bentley. I didn't pay attention and just drove the Volkswagen downstairs—the one I usually use for commuting. I always feel that giving a gift is a simple gesture; there's no need to make a big deal out of it. The Luke Family's villa is located halfway up the mountain on the outskirts of the Capital City, occupying a vast area. The entrance was filled with luxury cars, lined up one after another. I parked my car in the farthest corner. Just as I approached the door, the security guard stopped me. "Invitation, please?" The security guard sized me up and down, his eyes full of contempt. I gave the name Yvonne Jones and said she had invited me. The security guard sneered and said, "Someone like you doesn't even deserve to attend Mr. Luke's banquet. You're probably just here to freeload, aren't you?" At that moment, Yvonne Jones's voice came from inside. "I'm the one who told him to come."