The Secret Behind the Video Call

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I had been in a long-distance relationship with my boyfriend for three years.

Every night, he'd video call me and stay on until I fell asleep.

All my friends envied me for finding such a thoughtful boyfriend.

Until I stumbled upon a post online.

[Girls, have you ever tried this? Having sex with him while he's on a video call with his long-distance girlfriend. The thrill is absolutely incredible~]

The comments section was full of people cursing her out, but the blogger seemed proud rather than ashamed, continuing to post updates:

[Just now his girlfriend rolled over on the video, scared him so much he almost came, but it made me even more excited!]

[Every time he gets his girlfriend to fall asleep, he does it with me again. Right now he's holding me, his "little wildcat"~]

The attached photo showed a man in dim lighting, shirtless, his face unclear.

When I saw the red mole on that man's collarbone, my blood ran cold.

It was identical to my boyfriend's.

My hands trembling, I enlarged the photo and discovered that on the man's nightstand was a picture of me.

"Shiven, I had a nightmare."

I picked up my phone and sent a message to Shiven Smith.

After hitting send, I stared at the "sleeping" man on my screen.

No reaction. His breathing rate didn't change even slightly.

A minute later, the post's author updated:

[That stupid woman just texted saying she had a nightmare.]

[LMAO, her boyfriend is plowing me right now, no time to care about her.]

[But on the video, he's definitely sleeping soundly.]

[After all, it's a looped recording.]

I looked at the video again and noticed something off.

Every fifteen minutes, the curtain in the lower left corner of the frame would blow up slightly.

The arc and time interval were perfectly identicalthis was a looped video.

I rolled over, deliberately making a lot of noise, and coughed twice.

The video remained quiet and still.

Only that pre-recorded breathing sound echoed in the room.

The blogger updated again:

[She just rolled over so loudly, scared the hell out of me. Good thing the video didn't give it away.]

I clicked on the blogger's profile. It was full of lovey-dovey posts spanning half a year.

Six months ago, Shiven said he had to attend a closed training program.

In reality, he'd taken her to a beach resort.

In the photos, he wore swim trunks, back to the camera, with the blogger's hand resting on his shoulder.

Those swim trunks were ones I'd bought him.

There was another photo where the blogger wore black lace lingerie, taking a mirror selfie.

The caption read:

[He gave it to me. Says he loves the sound of this fabric being torn.]

That day was my birthday. He'd given me a set of pure cotton pajamas, saying he was worried I'd catch cold.

I looked down at the cotton pajamas I was wearing and felt only mockery.

So in his eyes, I only deserved to be wrapped in these prim and proper fabrics.

I saved all the blogger's posts, photos, and videos.

Even though my hands were shaking badly, my phone gallery filled with hundreds of screenshots, each one piercing my heart.

On the video, "Shiven Smith" continued sleeping peacefully, playing the role of the devoted boyfriend.

I took a screenshot of the screen.

The image showed his fake sleeping face, with a timestamp showing 3 AM in the corner.

I kept my eyes open until dawn broke.

At exactly seven o'clock, the screen flickered and the lighting suddenly brightened.

Shiven woke up. He rubbed his eyes, yawned, and leaned close to the camera:

"Good morning, baby. Did you sleep well? You said you had a nightmare?"

His voice was raspy, his eyes drowsyhis acting was impeccable.

I looked at his face and forced out a smile:

"Yeah, I dreamed you left me and ran off with another woman."

Shiven's expression froze for a moment, then he showed a doting smile:

"Silly girl, dreams are the opposite of reality. How could I leave you? You're my life."

The doorbell rang at that moment.

I walked to the door with my phone.

Through the peephole, I saw a package the delivery person had left on the ground.

The sender's field was blank, with only my name written as the recipient.

I opened the delivery bag to find an exquisite pink gift box.

Opening the lid, inside lay a set of black lace lingerie.

The size was S, while I always wore M.

A card fell to the ground. Written on it in delicate handwriting was a sentence:

"Shiven says you dress too conservatively. He asked me to pick something nice for you. You're welcome."

I picked up the card and held up the lingerie, shaking it in front of the video camera:

"Shiven, is this a surprise you bought me? Why is the size wrong?"

The moment Shiven saw the lingerie clearly, his eyes showed panic.

But he quickly composed himself, frowning:

"Huh? Why would I buy something so disgusting?"

"The seller sent the wrong thing? Or maybe some bored person playing a prank."

"Throw it away. It's filthy."

I tossed the lingerie back in the box and stared into his eyes:

"The card says you think I dress too conservatively."

Shiven's face darkened:

"What are you trying to say? You doubt me?"

"I work so hard every day, and at night I still stay on video to help you fall asleep."

"Don't we have even basic trust between us?"

"Can you be more mature? Stop being so paranoid all the time. It's exhausting for me."

He turned it around on me. He was the one being dirty, yet he blamed me for being suspicious.

Every time we'd had arguments before, he'd used this tactic, and I'd always apologized guiltily.

But this time, looking at his face, I only felt disgusted.

"I'm sorry, maybe I've been under too much stress lately."

"I just care about you too much..."

I lowered my head.

Seeing me back down, Shiven's tone softened:

"Good girl, I care about you too! You don't need that kind of thingyou're already beautiful. Throw it away!"

Just then, a very soft cat's meow came through the video, coquettish and gentle.

Shiven quickly reached to cover the microphone, but it was too late.

"You got a cat?"

I asked with feigned curiosity.

His eyes darted away as he laughed dryly:

"No, it's probably that stray cat from the neighborhood begging for food again."

"I'm going to go shoo the cat away. Gotta hang up nowI need to get to work soon. Love you."

The video ended and the room returned to silence.

I opened that post, and sure enough, the blogger had updated:

[Couldn't help but make a sound just now, so thrilling.]

[He got so scared his face turned white. Hung up the video and pinned me to the bed as punishment. Bad boy.]

Looking at those words, I threw the delivery box into the trash.

I requested annual leave from my company and bought a ticket on the next flight to his city.

By evening, I was standing downstairs from the apartment he rented.

He paid the rent here with my secondary credit card, saying it was to be closer to the office for overtime.

Now it seemed more like it was convenient for secret meetings.

I put on sunglasses and a face mask, found a window seat at the caf across the street, and sat down.

My phone vibrated. Shiven sent a message:

[Baby, I have to work overtime tonight, might not be able to video call.]

[Be good and go to sleep on your own. Don't overthink things. Once I finish this project, I'll come see you.]

I replied with [Okay, take care of yourself.]

My gaze traveled through the floor-to-ceiling window just in time to see Shiven walking out of the apartment building with his arm around a woman.

That woman wore the same outfit I'd seen in the post, with his jacket draped over her.

The two kissed at the apartment entrance, Shiven's hand wandering around her waist.

I raised my phone and opened video recording mode.

Zooming in, the woman's face appeared clearly on screenit was indeed that blogger.

She looked younger than in her photos, her eyes carrying a seductive glint.

The two got into a taxi. I immediately hailed a car and followed.

The car stopped at the entrance of a high-end Western restaurant.

I followed them inside and sat in a corner not far from them, my back to their direction.

The waiter handed me a menu. I randomly ordered a dessert and turned on my phone's recording function.

Fortunately, there were plants providing cover, so they didn't notice me.

"Baby, when are you finally going to dump that plain Jane?"

The woman's voice was drawn out, full of coquettish whining.

Shiven said:

"Dump her? Why would I dump her?"

"She comes from a clean background. Both her parents are government officials. She's perfect to bring home as a trophy wife."

"Plus, her credit card has a high limit. All our current expenses are on her dime, aren't they?"

My heart constricted.

So in his mind, I was just a suitable trophy and a walking ATM.

The woman whined coquettishly:

"Aren't you afraid she'll find out? She video calls you to check on you every night."

Shiven laughed lightly:

"We've been doing this so long and she hasn't found out. Once we're married and I give her a kid, she'll be even less likely to notice!"

"With that brain of hers, she believes everything I tell her."

"Besides, I installed surveillance cameras at home. I can monitor her anytime."

"All I have to do is play a pre-recorded sleeping video, and she thinks I'm asleep. Stupid as hell."

So it wasn't just deception, but omnipresent surveillance and calculation.

The woman seemed pleased:

"But you called her 'baby' today. How are you going to make it up to me?"

"You name it. Whatever you want."

"I want that bag."

"Done. I'll swipe her card, tell her it's a gift for her."

"Then send her another empty box."

The sound of their low laughter and clinking glasses was particularly grating.

I took out my phone and sent a message to a competitor who'd always wanted dirt on Shiven Smith:

[I have exclusive dirt on Shiven Smith that will absolutely destroy his reputation. Interested?]

They replied instantly:

[As long as it's real, name your price. We need solid proof.]

I sent them a small portion of the video and audio I'd just recorded.

They sent back a handshake emoji:

[Deal. We need you to release it at the most critical moment for maximum impact.]

I put away my phone and watched the two finish their meal and walk out of the restaurant hand in hand.

Shiven took out his phone and sent me a message:

[Baby, just finished work. I'm exhausted. What are you doing? Miss me? Are you home?]

I replied with a bedroom selfie I'd taken earlier:

[Watching shows at home. You worked hard, get some rest.]

Almost simultaneously, that woman's post updated:

[His girlfriend is home alone in her empty room.]

[We're having wild sex outside, right here in the restaurant parking lot. So thrilling. He says I'm a sex goddess, says that woman is like a dead fish, completely boring.]

How despicable does someone have to be to say such things?

To cry over this kind of scum would be degrading myself.

I was going to make him taste what it's like to be reviled by millions.

Back at the hotel, I began organizing all the transfer records and chat logs from the past three years.

Every expense, every excuse he'd used to ask for moneyI annotated them all clearly.

I also had a tech friend do a frame rate analysis of that looped sleep video.

The evidence kept piling up. I stared at the computer screen, my eyes ice-cold.

Shiven suddenly initiated a video call. I steadied my breathing and answered.

On screen was that hypocritical face of his, with the apartment wall as the background.

"Baby, next week is our three-year anniversary. I have a surprise for you."

He smiled.

"The company got me a diamond ring promotion deal. I want to propose to you during the livestream."

"Millions of people will be watching us. I want to make the whole world envy you."

I looked at him, the corner of my mouth curling into a cold smile:

"Sounds great. I've prepared a big surprise for you too. I'm sure you'll love it."

For this proposal, Shiven had been building momentum for a long time.

He posted a long essay on social media, recalling every bit of our three years together.

Between the lines, he portrayed himself as a devoted and loyal man.

The comment section was full of moved netizens, all saying they believed in love again.

[OMG, staying so sweet through three years of long-distance! What kind of fairy tale love is this!]

[The guy is so handsome and devoted. The girl must have saved the galaxy in her past life!]

[Can't wait for the livestream proposal. You two better be happy!]

Reading those sentences, all I felt was cold mockery.

If these people knew the truth, how would they react?

Shiven sent me the livestream schedule, everything meticulously planned, even my lines were written out.

"Baby, you just need to show up looking beautiful and nod yes."

"I've arranged everything elselights, sound system, flowers. It'll be perfect."

I glanced at the schedule and casually probed:

"I want to see how the VCR turned out first. What if it's not good and I can't control my expression during the livestream?"

On screen, Shiven's eyes flickered briefly, then he smiled indulgently:

"Silly, if you watch it beforehand, there won't be any surprise. Don't worry, I pulled several all-nighters editing this. It'll definitely move you to tears."

He immediately changed the subject.

After hanging up the video, I looked at the darkened screen.

A surprise?

There would definitely be a surprise, but it would be the one I was giving him.

Since you won't give me the account access, I'll just take it myself.

Last time we met, I saw him log into that account.

The first few characters were my name's initials, followed by a string of numbers.

I entered the username and typed in that password.

[Incorrect password.]

I stared at the screen and tried our birthdays and anniversary dates. None worked.

I suddenly remembered a post on that mistress's profile:

[He always remembers my birthday. So touching.]

I checked the calendar and changed the last four digits to that woman's birthday.

Enter.

[Login successful.]

Seeing the backend interface load, I couldn't help but laugh.

Shiven Smith, oh Shiven Smith, you really are devoted.

The account password starts with my name but ends with your mistress's birthday.

Just like you as a personwearing human skin on the surface, but rotten to the core inside.

After logging in to the backend, I saw that "touching VCR."

It really was well-edited, full of our photos and videos together.

I replaced it with another video I'd prepared.

The filename was identical, the duration roughly the same, but the content was worlds apart.

Once done, I logged out of the account and cleared all access traces.

That woman's post updated again:

[I heard he's going to propose to that stupid woman.]

[But it's just to make money to support me. That diamond ring brand is paying him a huge promotion fee.]

[He says after the proposal, he'll take me to Europe, using that woman's money.]

I looked at the screen, the anger in my heart burning out, leaving only resolve.

Since you want to put on a show, I'll build you a stage.

On the day of the proposal, the venue was filled with flowers.

A huge screen stood in the center, and onlookers packed the plaza.

Shiven wore a crisp white suit, his hair styled to perfection, the very picture of a refined gentleman.

In the backstage dressing room, he adjusted his bow tie in front of the mirror, his face wearing a smug smile.

I stood in the corner, watching him take out his phone to video call that woman:

"Babe, where are you? Hidden well? Make sure you're not spotted."

"I'm in the second-floor viewing area. Best view in the house. Waiting to watch you perform like a monkey."

Shiven laughed lewdly:

"After the proposal, I'll come find you at the hotel."

"Let you experience what the groom's really capable of."

His words and actions were all captured by the dressing room camera.

The livestream countdown began. Staff came over to tell me to get ready.

I smoothed my skirt and put on a perfect smile.

Shiven stood center stage, holding a microphone, gazing tenderly toward the entrance:

"Today, I'm going to propose to perhaps the woman I'll love most in this lifetime."

"Three years of long-distance, over a thousand days and nights, we've finally made it to today."

Thunderous applause erupted below. Livestream comments flooded the screen, and the viewership shot to the top of the charts.

I walked toward him step by step.

He knelt on one knee, holding up a diamond ring, his eyes reddening:

"Marry me. Let me take care of you for the rest of your life. Will you?"

I took the microphone, looked into his eyes, and said softly:

"Sure. But before I put on the ring, I've also prepared a surprise for you."

"Everyone, please look at the big screen. This is my three-year anniversary gift to you."