After finishing my little camera installation project, I sent the technician off and realized it was still early. Why not treat myself? I strolled down the street, nibbling on a starchy sausage, feeling like a secret agent with a mission accomplished.
But just as I was about to buy a watermelon, I looked up and - bam! - there was Mr. Zhang, my father-in-law, strutting out of a hotel with a woman who was definitely not Madam Wang. I yanked my mask up, pulled my hat down, and tiptoed closer like a discount Sherlock Holmes.
Mr. Zhang was holding the woman's hand as they walked to his car. The woman, swaying her hips, complained,
"That hotel bed was way too soft. My back is killing me! Your bed at home is so much better. Next time, let's just go there."
Mr. Zhang nodded like a bobblehead, then couldn't resist sneaking a kiss. The woman giggled, smacked his chest, and the two of them tumbled into the car, looking like teenagers on spring break.
Well, there goes my watermelon craving. Who needs fruit when you've just harvested a family-sized melon of gossip?
And to think, I'd just installed a camera in the in-laws' bedroom.
Oh, the drama that was about to unfold! I could barely contain my glee.
I wondered how Madam Wang would react when she found out her husband was starring in his own soap opera.
For the next few days, every morning as Zhou Fan and I emerged from our bedroom, Madam Wang would shoot me the weirdest looks, part evil, part smug, all mischief.
She'd strut around like a peacock who'd just outsmarted a fox.
I'd play dumb, flashing her my sweetest, most innocent smile, and the happier she looked, the more I wanted to cackle.
Little did she know, Zhou Fan and I had been on our best behavior:
No funny business under the covers, just pure, wholesome chatting.
Even when changing clothes, we'd sneak off to the bathroom.
Madam Wang must have been checking her secret camera feed every day, waiting for something juicy, but all she got was two people debating whether to order takeout or cook noodles.
Her face got smugger by the day.
I knew she was plotting something, and soon enough, I found out what.
A week later, I came home from work to find the living room packed like a senior citizens' council meeting:
Five aunts, one uncle's wife, and Madam Wang herself, all perched on the sofa with faces tighter than a jar of pickles.
Madam Wang greeted me like I was a guest of honor.
"Xiaoyan, come sit! No need to cook tonight, we'll eat out later!"
She was trying so hard not to laugh, her lips practically wrapped around her ears.
Here it comes, I thought. The main event.
Sure enough, the moment the TV flickered on, my eyeballs nearly exploded.
On the giant 100-inch screen was a pair of people engaged in some very... athletic activities.
Both had their backs to the camera, so you couldn't see their faces, but I knew instantly who they were supposed to be.
I dropped my head, pretending to be mortified, but inside, I was dying of laughter.
Madam Wang put on her best "shocked but supportive" act:
"Oh my, what's this? Where did this surveillance footage come from?
Wait, isn't that Xiao Fan and Xiaoyan?"
She pressed buttons on the remote, pretending it was broken.
"Oh dear, the remote isn't working! We can't turn it off!
Everyone, don't look! My son and daughter-in-law are just very much in love, that's all!"
She kept saying "don't look," but her voice was trembling with suppressed giggles.
Then she started critiquing the "me" on screen:
"Xiaoyan, your skin looks a bit wrinkly on TV - why so dark?
You're still young, but your chest is practically touching your belly. That won't do! I'll take you for a spa treatment this afternoon."
I clutched my shirt, shaking with the effort not to burst out laughing.
Madam Wang thought I was embarrassed, so she doubled down:
"Xiaoyan, young people need to take care of themselves!
This is the second time already - aren't you satisfied? Poor Xiao Fan, maybe he needs some supplements. This isn't healthy!"
The aunts and uncle's wife chimed in.
"Kids these days, so energetic!"
"No wonder you're always glowing, Xiaoyan!"
"Xiuying, you really raised a strong son!"
I nearly lost it. If only they knew the truth:
The only action happening in our bedroom was a heated debate over whether pineapple belongs on pizza.
Madam Wang, thinking she'd finally caught me in the act, was practically levitating with joy.
I kept my head down, but inside, I was counting down to the moment the real show would begin.
Because if they thought this was scandalous, just wait until Madam Wang discovers her husband's secret hotel adventures - caught in glorious high definition, thanks to yours truly.
Let the family fireworks begin!