Recently, Jason Whitman's stomach problems flared up, so I personally made some soup and delivered it to his school.

But as soon as I got downstairs, a sign was prominently displayed at the entrance.

"Samantha Moore and dogs are not allowed."

There was even a picture of me on it.

I frowned, about to call Jason to confront him.

A bucket of cold water was poured from upstairs, landing squarely on me.

Jessica Hayes peeked from the window, feigning surprise.

"Professor's wife, why aren't you staying home, a typical housewife? What are you doing in our research group?"

"Oh, don’t overthink the sign. It's just an internal joke. You’re not part of our circle, so it’s normal you don’t understand!"

I stood there, disheveled.

Not only was my makeup ruined, but my clothes were soaked, clinging tightly, the outline of my underwear visible.

Jason heard the commotion, grabbed Jessica by the ear, and dragged her downstairs, apologetic. "Jessica is young, she jokes without respect for elders. You’re not angry, are you?"

Jessica stuck out her tongue, pouting.

"It's your fault! Who told you to lose the bet last time? Otherwise, would I have this sign at the door?"

"You promised me three super spicy hot pot meals, you still owe me two!"

She noticed the thermos in my hand and smiled smugly.

"By the way, Mrs. Moore, Mr. Whitman doesn’t like your soup. I always finish it for him."

"Just give it to me this time, too."

——

Before finishing, her hand was already out.

I pushed her away.

Anger and grievance churned in my chest.

No wonder Jason, who usually had a light palate, suddenly had a stomachache.

So, he was busy taking someone out for spicy hot pot.

Just as I pushed Jessica away...

Jason instinctively stepped forward and pulled her into his arms.

Then, realizing something, he quickly released her.

Jessica's eyes reddened, and she choked, "Mrs. Moore, this sign was a joke. Even if you’re angry, you shouldn’t have pushed me, right?"

"I know you’re used to being a rich housewife, so you don’t get our jokes. But this is a school, everyone is equal. How could you humiliate me like this?"

I almost laughed from anger.

They put up such an insulting sign, even pasted my picture, then soaked me.

Instead of apologizing, did she blame me?

Jason patted Jessica's head, tone light.

"Alright, you splashed her too, we’re even, forget it."

After speaking, he saw me soaking wet.

He frowned, took off his white coat, and tried to drape it over me.

“Samantha, don’t take it to heart with Jessica. She’s straightforward, always speaks her mind, but means no harm.”

I stepped back, preventing him from touching me.

Jason’s coat smelled strongly of perfume.

Exactly the same as Jessica’s.

The smell mixed with my cold sweat, making me nauseous.

“Oops!” Jessica exclaimed softly, with a slightly embarrassed smile.

"Mrs. Moore, don’t misunderstand."

“I know housewives like you overthink.”

She pointed to the white coat in Jason’s hand, tone full of superiority.

"Last night, I was doing an experiment and got my clothes dirty, so I temporarily wore Professor Whitman’s."

“It’s common for us to work late into the night on projects together. Sharing clothes and things is very normal.”

“You’re older, and not from this circle, so it’s normal you don’t know these things.”

She finished speaking, smiling, waiting for my reaction.

There were still students watching.

They started whispering.

“At the last dinner party, Ms. Jessica drank too much and threw up all over Professor Whitman. Professor Whitman, always a clean freak, wasn’t angry; he even gave her water and patted her back.”

“More than that, their relationship is really good. Sometimes it seems even closer than with his wife…”

Before I could respond, someone nudged me with their elbow.

But these fragmented words were enough to piece together the scene.

I looked at Jessica, my voice was calm, but only I knew what was stuck in my throat.

"You really like my soup?"

Jessica seemed surprised, pausing for a moment before flashing her usual smile.

"Yes, it’s the chicken soup from last time. I found it a bit bland, and I told Mr. Whitman about it."

She winked at Jason, then turned back, her tone light.

"Did you put in too much salt this time?"

Jessica’s tone was so frank.

Anyone unaware would think she was speaking to the housekeeper.

I loosened my grip, bent down, opened the thermos, and placed it in front of the stray dog on the street.

Then I smiled at Jessica.

"Yes, I put in too much salt."

"But I won’t give it to the dog."

"After all, dogs have more conscience than you."

Jessica understood immediately, her face paling.

Back when she was ten, her name was still Jessica Hart.

Living in a remote mountain village where sons were favored, she was beaten so badly by her parents that her body was covered in welts.

That year, I happened to be delivering charity supplies. She knelt before me, kowtowing and begging me to save her.

I softened and took her back to London, paying for her schooling.

I even personally taught her how to dress and read.

I transformed Jessica from a thin, self-conscious girl into a poised, confident student at a prestigious university.

Even a dog wags its tail in gratitude to its owner.

But how did Jessica repay me?

After entering Jason’s lab, she developed inappropriate thoughts.

What disgusted me more was that Jason actually condoned her.

The young, delicate Jessica before me, eyes red, fiercely accused me.

"How could you humiliate me like this? Comparing me to a dog?"

"I know you’ve been a pampered young lady since childhood, different from ordinary people like us, but I’m not your servant. I absolutely cannot be insulted like this! Please apologize to me immediately!" Jessica’s tears streamed, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed, crying with deep grief.

Jason’s brows furrowed further. He looked at me, tone softening slightly.

"Samantha."

"Today is Jessica’s thesis defense. Apologize to her first, let this matter pass, don’t delay her important business."

He paused, looking at my soaking, disheveled appearance, seemingly realizing it was inappropriate, and added.

"Never mind, your clothes are wet too, go back and change, don’t catch a cold."

He said it matter-of-factly.

I watched as Jason instinctively stepped in front of Jessica, afraid I might do something for her.

Suddenly, I found it particularly ridiculous.

After all, he had always protected me like this since childhood.

A surge of anger welled up inside me, making me tremble with rage.

Seeing my silence, Jason called over two female students.

He instructed them to take me home first.

Then he turned to me, his voice lowered, carrying a coaxing tone.

"Samantha, you go home first."

"We'll talk about it when I get home tonight." The two girls whose names were called timidly approached me.

"Mrs. Moore, we'll go home with you."

I, who never made things difficult for others, nodded quietly and followed them away.

Behind me came Jessica's coquettish voice.

"Mr. Whitman, Samantha is so arrogant and domineering. What if she pressures the school and prevents me from graduating?"

Jason, usually aloof, chuckled.

"You're fearless in the lab every day, even daring to force me to eat spicy hot pot, and now you're scared?"

"Samantha is just tough on the outside but soft on the inside. She won't do anything for you, and besides, I'm here to protect you, aren't I?"

Two people behind me laughed in unison.

I clenched my fists tightly, my nails digging into my palms, and let out a cold laugh.

It seems that even after all these years of marriage with Jason, he still hasn’t grasped one fact.

Can Jason protect the person I, Samantha, want to deal with?

On the way home, the two female students hesitated, seemingly wanting to say something.

Finally, they gritted their teeth and handed me their phones.

"Professor's wife, please take a look at this. It's quite popular on the school forum."

It was a pinned post.

"Rational discussion: Are Professor Jason and Ms. Jessica the strongest academic couple in our department?"

I took it and scrolled down.

Someone posted many photos.

There were photos of them standing side by side at academic conferences.

There were photos of them discussing data together in the lab, heads bowed.

Another photo showed Jessica smiling as she adjusted Jason's tie, with Jason bowing slightly in agreement.

My grip on my phone tightened.

That tie was one I bought, and I personally put it on Jason every morning.

The poster's tone was exciting.

"Who understands, folks! Professor Whitman is rigorous and abstinent, while Ms. Jessica is quick-witted and agile. When they team up for debates, they're absolutely insane! They know what the other wants with just a glance!"

Hundreds of replies followed.

"That's true, evenly matched love! What do some parasitic bastards know?"

"Stop talking, give them some face. After all, all they can do is make soup."

I read through the replies one by one.

The screen light reflected in my eyes, making them a little sore.

So, in other people's eyes, they were a match made in heaven, soulmates.

And I, just a superfluous parasitic bastard who couldn't even squeeze into academia.

A slightly different reply popped up. "What nonsense are some people upstairs spouting? Do they know how good Professor Whitman and Samantha were back then?"

"I was in their undergraduate class, I know they were truly a match made in heaven!"

"Samantha gave up her guaranteed postgraduate admission to work and supported Professor Whitman's studies."

"On the day Professor Whitman passed his doctoral defense, he didn't go to anyone else; he rushed back to hug Samantha first, saying that such moments should be celebrated with the most important person, and that Samantha was more important to him than anyone else!"

"Now you call this parasitic relationship? Call it a lack of common ground?"

"Without Samantha, whether Professor Whitman would be where he is today is another matter!"

This reply was silent for a while.

Then a few new comments followed.

"I'm from the School of Physics and Electronics. I've vaguely heard rumors that Professor Whitman's wife has been kind to him."