Chapter 127: Stop Stop Stop, This Isn’t the Way to Kindergarten!

Chapter 127 Stop, Stop, Stop! This Isn’t the Ride to Kindergarten!

"Nowadays, the win-back-the-ex trope is this extreme?!"

"But without that thing, how is the husband supposed to win his wife back? With a passionless marriage? Don’t joke around—even when they had physical intimacy, it didn’t work, let alone without it."

"They don’t even have the chance to fight and make up in bed anymore!"

"Could it be that he’s not the male lead, and after the wife leaves him, she meets the real male lead and finds new love?"

"Hmm, that’s not impossible."

Sheng Qingquan had membership accounts on many novel websites. As a veteran reader, he was well aware that stories where the female lead divorces, finds true love, lives blissfully, while the ex-husband regrets everything and tries to win her back—only for her to have already moved on for good—were a very popular genre.

Sheng Qingquan hadn’t forgotten the title of this novel.

*When You Hear His Inner Voice.*

After the initial shock of the male character’s unmentionable amputation wore off, a calmer Sheng Qingquan quickly connected the title to the plot.

"The plot is out the window now: ‘love is hard to express, misunderstandings pile up between the couple, until the wife hears her husband’s inner voice and finally understands his feelings, realizing they still love each other and reconciling.’"

"The plot has changed to: the wife thought their marriage was loving and devoted, with no third parties involved, only to realize it was her one-sided love all along."

"The husband had long since fallen out of love, secretly cheating behind her back."

"Ugh, what a jerk!"

"It’s guys like this that ruin men’s reputations."

Though Sheng Qingquan had never planned on finding a partner, he didn’t want to be unfairly lumped in with such men.

Especially after reading the plot—reality was even worse than he’d imagined.

"The jerk cleans up his act after cheating and comes back acting like nothing happened—fine, but he even has the nerve to put his wife down?!"

"He genuinely feels no remorse at all."

"Weren’t there stories about men who, after cheating, would feel guilty and compensate by being extra good to their wives? Was that all just fiction?"

"Or is this guy so rotten he doesn’t even have an ounce of remorse?"

"Yep, he really doesn’t."

"He shamelessly claims his wife isn’t as ‘pure’ as before, always talking about money. If he’d known she was a ‘gold-digger,’ he never would’ve married her."

"He also says that even though she’s only in her thirties, she already looks like a frumpy housewife who let herself go. At the same age, she can’t compare to celebrities—fine, but she’s even less put-together than his female coworkers."

"Every word out of his mouth implies his wife isn’t good enough for him anymore."

"He even complains that she nags nonstop, micromanaging everything but never doing it right. She doesn’t discipline their child properly but prys into things that aren’t her business."

"He feels so suffocated at home, as the man of the house, that he can barely breathe."

"Home should be a safe haven, but to him, it’s just suffocating. He has to stay out longer every day just to get some space. And yet she dares to accuse him of not coming home—maybe she should look in the mirror!"

"*Incoherent swearing*"

Sheng Qingquan was so furious his thoughts dissolved into wordless rage.

"Talk about blaming the victim—this is a classic case of it!"

"Of course, dating is all about sweetness, but marriage is about shared life. If you don’t account for daily necessities, what’s the point? Your income isn’t enough—if you earned more, your wife wouldn’t have to stretch every dollar, carefully managing limited funds to keep the family comfortable."

"Complaining your wife isn’t as young and pretty anymore? Then buy her cosmetics, get her a yearly spa pass, hire a maid so she doesn’t have to work so hard!"

"Not even a superhero could pull that off—she’s just an ordinary woman—how could she not look worn out?"

"How dare he say his wife isn’t good enough for him, then fantasize about female celebrities and coworkers. If those coworkers knew how he creepily fantasized about them, they’d be disgusted!"

"I’d be shocked if his wife didn’t turn the tables and start resenting him instead."

"How does someone like this even have a wife?"

"Complaining she nags too much? If she didn’t care, who would bother? And now he uses it as an excuse not to come home? If he really felt suffocated, he should talk it out with her, not run away. He escapes the pressure, but she’s left carrying it all."

"If you don’t come home, of course she has to handle everything alone—childcare, chores. Then you waltz back home when it’s all done. What a sneaky little plan—as if no one sees through it."

"Oh, his wife doesn’t see it."

"Love blinded her—literally."

"Thankfully, not permanently. Even if clouds obscure the view, they’ll eventually part."

"Serves him right?!"

"The female lead suddenly hears the jerk’s inner monologue. She discovers he’s been cheating. At first, out of love, she thought the exhaustion was bearable."

"Besides, their child was growing up. Though her husband’s income hadn’t increased, she worked hard and gradually got promotions and raises, easing their finances."

"Given time, things would get better. Then everything would go back to like their dating days—no, even sweeter, because they had their child."

"She had noticed something off about him but didn’t dwell on it. Too drained to overthink—or maybe afraid to."

"Overthinking would make all her sacrifices seem pointless and pathetic."

Even knowing how it ended, hearing this, the listeners—already seething at the jerk—couldn’t help but feel exasperated by her resignation.

"How could she think like that? She should’ve just divorced him!"

"Not knowing when to quit is the real stupidity!"

"That’s what economists call the sunk cost fallacy!" The staff sighed.

Some neighbors chimed in, "After giving so much, no wonder she’d resent it—it’s natural she’d feel bitter."

Even so, many wives gave side-eyes to their husbands, warning, "You wouldn’t pull the same crap, right? You won’t follow in his footsteps?"

Remembering the jerk’s fate, the married men shuddered and quickly promised otherwise.

As couples exchanged words—part warning, part playful jab—Sheng Qingquan finally saw why the female lead snapped.

"I thought it was because hearing his thoughts confirmed the cheating, leaving her no way to lie to herself anymore."

"Turns out, it was even messier."

"After hearing his thoughts and learning of his infidelity, she hadn’t planned to hurt anyone. She was ready to accept it, write off those years as a loss, and move on. Maybe fate let her hear his thoughts to warn her: leave now."

"Get out of that hell sooner."

"The protagonist didn’t even cry; she immediately started planning how to get proof he was cheating so she could secure custody of their child. She also made sure he wouldn’t get the house, car, or savings."

"She had already figured out how to make the cheating bastard leave empty-handed, how to comfort their child to avoid emotional harm, and planned every step of what needed to be done afterward."

"But what she didn’t expect was how unbearable it would be to be in the same room with him after truly confirming his infidelity."

"Even so, for the sake of the future, she could tough it out."

"Yet the lowlife couldn’t even sit still at home—his body was home, but his mind was still out there."

"He slouched on the couch, looking dead tired like he’d pulled an all-nighter. In truth, he was exhausted, but not from work—that much was obvious."

"Listening to him reminiscing about the pros he’d been with outside made her want to puke."

[‘"That waist—so slender, I could wrap one hand around it. Those legs, long and straight. Her skin was smooth, no stretch marks on her stomach. Firm, not saggy. Sleeping with her was out of this world. Just a bit pricey."’]

"That alone was bad enough. After his trip down sleazy memory lane, he started fantasizing about a female coworker."

[‘"The hired girls aren’t ideal. Sure, they’re fresh and skilled, great in bed. But they’ve got that streetwalker vibe, heavy makeup. I don’t like makeup, especially not thick layers—too flashy. Natural beauty’s way hotter, like a fresh-faced angel."’]

[‘"Plus, your luck runs out. Even with protection, too many encounters and your luck runs out."’]

[‘"If only I could score with Yanyan from HR. Sure, she’s a bit older, past thirty. But she keeps herself up—looks as fresh as a girl in her early twenties. No makeup, flawless skin, naturally pretty."’]

[‘"Her figure’s perfect too—no flab, but stacked where it counts. Total smoke show."’]

[‘"Just thinking about her makes me drool. Too bad she’s so aloof—barely responds when I talk to her."’]

[‘"No matter. Chase long enough, and even ice queens melt. I’ll figure out how to approach her tomorrow, make her feel my passion."’]

"And that new receptionist, Xiao Shi, isn’t bad either. Not as pretty as Yanyan, but youth has its perks—that lively energy Yanyan can’t match. Plus, young girls lack experience—should be easier to bag. Maybe I’ll start with her?"

"Tomorrow, I’ll bring her a five-yuan breakfast. For Yanyan, a Starbucks coffee and a rose."

"Two birds, one stone. Twice the fun."

"Agh! My eyes! I need bleach!"

"What disgusting crap did I just witness?!"

Sheng Qingquan wanted to gouge his eyes out. With that level of sleaziness, no wonder the woman snapped.

"Did he really think he was reviewing some harem checklist? No wonder the woman changed her mind on the spot."

"While lusting after other women, he even took mental jabs at the woman. The fact that she waited until he fell asleep that night to act shows incredible restraint."

Truly impressive, everyone agreed. Most would’ve stabbed him on the spot—disgusting beyond words.

But the lowlife got what he deserved. Becoming a eunuch was his just fate.

"Wait—if ‘he’ in the title refers to anyone whose thoughts you can hear…"

"Then others can hear people’s inner voices too?"

Sheng Qingquan froze, then understood.

"I always wondered how the woman hearing the lowlife’s thoughts could cause an apocalypse. Now it makes sense."

"It wasn’t just her. Others could hear minds too."

"I never would’ve guessed that little Xin would be such a badass racer."

"She looks so quiet and gentle, usually greeting people in a soft voice. Truly, you can’t judge a book by its cover."

Sheng Qingquan was stunned.

Little Xin?

Lin Xinxin from the third floor?

Just as everyone was uncertain, Xinxin herself was freaking out. No way, they're already talking about her?

She'd rather be a victim in this scenario—stone-cold dead—or even without a whole corpse. She wouldn’t mind.

"The more demure Lin Xinxin sounds, the greater the contrast with reality."

Her heart sank like a rock.

It really is me. Lin Xinxin looked like she wanted to die.

"When did Xinxin become a racer, and an outstanding one at that?" Her parents, upon hearing this, felt both guilty for neglecting her and a mix of pride and worry. "Street racing is way too dangerous!"

"What if she crashes and breaks a bone?"

"Breaking a bone would be the least of it—what if she gets turned into roadkill?"

"Just look at those car accidents in the news—how brutal they can be."

"Xinxin, you can’t race anymore. Racing means competition, and competition leads to going all Fast & Furious, which inevitably causes collisions. And collisions lead to accidents. You’re our only daughter—you gotta look out for yourself."

"Taking care of yourself is taking care of us, your parents. Got it?" Dad spoke earnestly.

Mom hesitated. "But dear, it was mentioned that Xinxin is an outstanding racer. To reach that level, she must truly love racing."

"Isn’t it cruel to yank her away from something she loves?"

Dad also felt conflicted but feared losing his daughter more, so he insisted, "We’re not banning her from driving—she can still drive normally. Just no more racing. Going all Fast & Furious is a bad idea."

"Her dad’s right. Xinxin can’t race anymore. If something happened to her, I’d die." Grandpa also objected. Afraid of outright rejection, he proposed a compromise. "If Xinxin wants to race, she can play those racing sims at home."

"Isn’t there that thing—those racing sims? Just play those."

"Pops’ll buy you in-game cars, and those fancy skins you kids are into. Pops’ll get you everything."

"Right, Nana will spoil you rotten. Just don’t race outside. Be good, and Nana will spoil you rotten. I’ve got my retirement fund stacked—I have money!"

Seeing Lin Xinxin keep her head down without a word, Grandma thought she was giving the silent treatment.

So Grandma picked up her phone. "Xinxin, if you don’t agree, I’ll call your grandparents. Let them set you straight."

"Wait, what if this car isn’t the kind you’re thinking of?" Lin Xinxin muttered like a zombie.

Outwardly calm, she was screaming inside.

Heavens, smite me now.

Honestly, I’d rather get hit by a bus!

The whole family just blinked at her. Wait, what other kinda car is there?

"Stop, stop, stop—this isn't the ride to kindergarten!"

"Who would have thought Lin Xinxin is actually a master of spicy fiction? She often collabs with other top-tier authors, producing countless works, whipping up juicy stories that leave readers lingering on every word, craving more long after."

Huh? So this "racing" refers to that?

The younger crowd caught on quickly, and even the hip older folks figured it out. The elderly, who usually aren’t as quick with internet slang, finally grasped the meaning after some pondering.

Seeing her family’s stunned expressions, Lin Xinxin went full damage control and flopped onto the couch: "Yep, that's the kind of 'racing' it is!"

"I didn’t do anything wrong! Can’t a girl have hobbies?"

"Just like some people love gaming, some love singing, and some love dancing, I just enjoy writing, that’s all." Lin Xinxin tried to deflect.

"But you should write wholesome content!"

"Wait, if you’re interested in this, why do you always say you don’t want a partner when I urge you to date?" Grandma Lin wasn’t fooled. She asked incredulously, "How can a few lines of text compare to the real thing?"

"Grandma's still sharp as a tack. Don’t try to trick me."

Lin Xinxin: "...It’s not the same."

Mom Lin was floored: "So this top-tier writer turns out to be outstanding in this way."

"How can you write this without experience? Or have you been sneaking around with someone behind our backs? How many boyfriends—or girlfriends—have you had? Did you use protection?"

"For safety’s sake, maybe we should get you tested?"

Lin Xinxin’s eyes widened in shock: "What kind of leap is that, Mom?"

"What boyfriends or girlfriends? I had no idea you were so open-minded!"

"There’s no one, male or female!"

"Look, no secrets, no partners, zero interest in dating. It’s precisely because I’ve never dated that I can write this stuff."

"Imagination is the most beautiful thing."

"Alright, stop asking. That’s all there is to it." Lin Xinxin was at her wit's end.

Dear lord—who could’ve imagined? A secret she planned to take to her grave was now exposed.

After learning about this building’s special circumstances, she had painfully stopped writing altogether.

Who knew that even after quitting for so long, it would still come out one day?

I'm dead.

God knows she hasn’t even dared to read such content at home these past few years, let alone write it. Yet, despite such sacrifices, it was all for nothing.

Lin Xinxin’s face was blank, but inside, she was crying harder than the rain on the day Yiping begged her father for money.*

Her toes, hidden in soft cotton slippers, had already carved out a five-star resort.

Sheng Qingquan remained unaware of the "tragedy" unfolding downstairs.

He simply continued reading.

"Even though Lin Xinxin no longer writes, she sometimes still mentally drafts scenarios in her mind. For example, when her family buys a new sofa, she might idly imagine a romantic encounter unfolding on it. Or when she sees a tidy bathroom counter, she envisions a couple knocking over neatly arranged toiletries in the heat of passion..." *Footnote: This refers to a famous scene from the Chinese drama *Storm of the Century*, where the protagonist pleads tearfully with her father for financial support.

So, that's how I got exposed?!

Lin Xinxin finally understood how she was done in.

Now she understood her fate.

She didn't dare look her family in the eye, but knowing them so well, she could practically feel their stunned silence.

"I lowkey want those drafts!" Amid the Lin family's awkward silence, a neighbor couldn’t help but blurt out.

This was tender, mouthwatering meat blessed by divine favor.

Who could resist?!

But now wasn’t the time for cravings.

"Even though Lin Xinxin’s inner thoughts were overheard, it’s just mortifying—enough to make her want to disappear. But if you're thick-skinned enough, it doesn’t really affect daily life."

"As for the scumbag’s thoughts, his wife hearing them was downright satisfying. Of course, violence is never okay, but we can understand the family’s white-hot fury."

"Overall, the outcome was still positive."

"But that doesn’t mean having your inner thoughts exposed is a good thing."

"The darkness in people’s hearts—sometimes unimaginable..."

"Even if someone hasn’t done anything bad, it doesn’t mean they’ve never had bad thoughts."

"Hell, people panic over their browser history!"

"But having thoughts doesn’t mean acting on them."

"Thinking isn’t illegal."

"We judge deeds, not desires—or else no one’s innocent."

"Who hasn’t wished someone dead in a rage?"

Once, gridlocked in traffic, Sheng Qingquan had wished the car ahead would vanish. And just now, seeing the scumbag’s actions, he couldn’t help but wish the guy dead.

"But what makes us human is our rationality, our ability to control our actions. Besides, sometimes it’s just a passing impulse—we’d never actually do it."

"Many people, no matter what they’re thinking, wouldn’t dare take a knife if you handed it to them. They’d recoil in horror and back off."

"Normally, it’s no big deal. But now, what if these inner thoughts are heard—especially by the person involved or those who care about them?"

The mere thought of the consequences made everyone’s blood run cold.

And the following events in the novel only confirmed Sheng Qingquan’s suspicions.

"On the train, a rowdy kid was raising hell. A nearby passenger couldn’t help but think: 'Just shut up and die already!'"

"The kid kept making noise, and the passenger, already carsick, felt even worse. So, in their mind, they imagined throttling the kid."

"In reality, they were too timid to act. But at least in their mind, they could blow off steam, right?"

"Who knew even thoughts could backfire?"

"Hellions breed hellions. And their enablers wouldn’t let this slide, would they?"

"Alright, alright, so you want to chop up my kid? How could you be so evil? You actually have such hate toward a child. What has my sweet darling ever done to you? He's such an adorable, well-behaved boy, and yet you'd dare to harm him."

"No way, this is my precious. This child is smart—if spiritual energy ever revives, he could become an immortal."

"He's the only hope for our family. We’re counting on him to train to become powerful, to let me live a life of luxury and freedom. This can’t be ruined."

"I won’t let you lay a hand on my child."

"Thinking of their future prospects and the need to protect their child, driven by both self-interest and parental love, the paranoid parent decided to take care of the problem permanently."

"You can’t stay on guard forever. So right after leaving the station, the overprotective parent bought a fruit knife from a nearby shop and went at the passenger with seven or eight stabs, killing them."

"Even when arrested, the parent kept arguing, insisting they were innocent—that they were just protecting their child and did nothing wrong."

"'I just struck first!'"

"Yes, strike first and gain the upper hand; hesitate and suffer the consequences."

"Because of this, in just one day, a thousand people wound up dead in Yunteng City alone."