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Elevator Drop
The female neighbor across the hall was an incredibly alluring and beautiful woman.
All the men in the building were captivated by her, except for my husband who treated her with complete disdain.
But when the elevator plummeted,
He completely forgot about me and our daughter, spinning around to embrace her tightly.
So tightly, as if he wanted to press her into his very body.
1
My husband Ethan Stone and I were both professors at the same university.
He taught history, I taught philosophy.
Ethan was refined and steady, serious and meticulous in his work, with clean and tidy living habits, and quite skilled at housework.
I had delicate features and a gentle temperament, usually favoring a simple, understated style, and loved raising cats and tending to plants.
Our backgrounds, educational experiences, and values were remarkably similar and compatible. In four years of marriage, we'd never had a single fight, living a simple and orderly life.
Simple breakfasts in the morning, and in the evening I'd prep ingredients while he cooked. After dinner, we'd take our three-year-old daughter Emma downstairs for walks, then retreat to our respective spaces.
Reading and writing, or discussing and exchanging ideas.
The neighbors in our building all respected us, politely addressing us as "Professor Stone" and "Professor Gray."
Ethan was kind to everyone and tolerant of everything, except for one person whose words and behavior he viewed with utter contempt—
Our neighbor across the hall, Scarlett Summers.
Objectively speaking, Scarlett was an extremely beautiful woman.
She had striking features and a curvaceous figure, usually sporting curled hair and red lips, always dressed in tight-fitting clothes that hugged her hips. Every movement exuded an enchanting allure.
In the hallway and elevator, if she had just passed through, you could always smell a strong perfume scent. At such times, our daughter Emma would say in her sweet little voice:
"It smells so good! I can smell Aunt Scarlett!"
Ethan would frown slightly and snort through his nose, clearly disgusted by this air contaminated with chemicals.
This building housed quite a few single men, and Scarlett had an outgoing personality. We often heard her chatting and laughing with other male neighbors as they exited the elevator.
Once, when we returned from our walk and reached the elevator area, Scarlett was having an animated conversation with a neighbor from the sixth floor.
After everyone exchanged greetings, we waited for the elevator together.
Ethan looked slightly impatient, standing alone at a distance.
Scarlett ran her fingers through her hair and murmured softly to the neighbor:
"Ugh, this new shampoo I'm using is terrible. My hair keeps falling out."
The neighbor laughed. "Looks good to me."
"How is it good?"
"Smells nice."
Scarlett made a dismissive sound and glanced inadvertently toward where Ethan was standing.
Ethan stood straight against the wall corner, expressionless.
When exiting the elevator, Scarlett's high heel twisted, and she tumbled toward Ethan's direction, her face landing squarely against his chest, leaving two bright red lipstick marks on his white shirt.
"Sorry, sorry, Professor Stone. I had a few drinks outside and felt dizzy—couldn't keep my balance."
Ethan pressed his lips together without responding, his expression clearly displeased.
Scarlett immediately looked embarrassed, obviously never having received such cold treatment from a man before.
Seeing this, I smiled and asked:
"Are you going to be okay at home by yourself?"
Scarlett ran her fingers through her hair, revealing a bitter smile.
"No choice. My husband is always away on business trips—can't count on him. I really envy you two being together every day with such a good relationship. I wish my husband could be like Professor Stone."
After we got home, Ethan unusually didn't sit down to read but went to take a shower first.
I was absorbed in my book for quite a while before he emerged from the bathroom with wet hair.
I looked up, somewhat surprised.
"You were in there a long time."
He dried his hair with a towel and gave a brief "Mm."
"I don't like having that scent on me."
2
Ethan and I were excellent research partners.
Philosophy and history naturally had many overlapping areas, and we occasionally had academic discussions during our "reading time."
Once, when discussing the Tao Te Ching, I slowly petted the cat in my lap and asked him:
"You've always believed that virtuous people should embrace all things. Why are you so particularly harsh toward Scarlett?"
He was silent for two seconds, then his face showed a hint of mockery:
"Ryan is out there working hard to support the family, yet she, as his wife, behaves in ways that don't consider her husband's dignity. I'm not saying women are sources of trouble, but history has taught us countless times that some indeed are."
I couldn't help but laugh a little.
Ryan Clark was Ethan's college roommate. Because of their good relationship, they had deliberately bought apartments in the same building.
A year ago, Ryan got married back home and moved in with Scarlett. Shortly after the wedding, Ryan was assigned to Europe for two years, leaving his wife behind.
Although I thought Ethan's words were somewhat extreme, he was indeed stubborn about certain things.
After that incident, Scarlett became very polite and distant around Ethan, unlike her warm demeanor with others. She kept her eyes lowered submissively, somehow conveying a pitiful, wronged air.
Ethan became even more openly disapproving when he mentioned her.
On my birthday, our family of three went out for a celebratory dinner and ran into Scarlett leaving her apartment.
She first enthusiastically called me "Anna," then patted Emma's head. When her gaze turned to Ethan, she politely addressed him as "Professor Stone," maintaining a clear boundary between men and women.
Ethan nodded slightly and stared coldly at the elevator screen.
In the elevator, Scarlett stood in the right corner.
Ethan stood in the middle, Emma and I on the other side.
Just as the doors closed and we began descending, the elevator suddenly shook violently and plummeted rapidly.
A massive sensation of weightlessness struck suddenly. I didn't even have time to scream before instinctively clutching Emma tightly.
Fortunately, the elevator stopped its fall when it reached the first floor. Still shaken, I turned around to look.
I froze—
Ethan was holding Scarlett tightly.
Their heads were pressed together.
He held her so tightly.
So tightly, as if he wanted to press her into his very body.
3
"Daddy, don't be scared! It's okay now!"
Emma's innocent shout made the embracing pair look up.
Ethan's eyes met mine, his pupils trembling as he suddenly released his arms.
"Ah! I thought you were standing over here."
Ethan pursed his lips, sounding quite frustrated.
"Haha, Daddy's so silly! Mommy and I are over here!"
Beside them, Scarlett stared at Ethan in a daze, her chest rising and falling, shock mixed with a hint of hidden excitement.
On the way to the restaurant, Ethan drove while Emma and I sat in the back.
No one spoke for a long time, creating an extremely quiet atmosphere.
Ethan stared ahead and suddenly spoke in a deep voice:
"Anna, what just happened was so sudden that I panicked and got confused. Don't—"
I finished tying Emma's hair with the butterfly clip, tightening it before looking up to ask:
"Hmm? What?"
Ethan paused. "What are you two doing?"
Emma said loudly, "Mommy's braiding my hair!"
I patted her round little cheeks and smiled. "When I hugged her earlier, I messed up her braids, so I redid them."
Ethan glanced at me through the rearview mirror, his tone hesitant.
"You didn't say anything just now—were you fixing Emma's hair? I thought you—"
I looked out the window.
Neon lights sparkled like a dream.
"I am getting pretty hungry. I heard that restaurant is really popular—I hope we don't have to wait for a table..."
4
Two evenings later, Scarlett came to our door carrying a bag of cherries.
She wore a white low-cut dress with exquisite makeup, her hair half-wet draped over her chest.
"Professor Stone, Anna, these are cherries sent from my hometown. I brought some for you to try."
I smiled as I accepted them, quite interested, and ate one.
"They're really sweet, though I prefer chilled cherries. I'll put them in the fridge and eat them later. Thank you."
I handed the bag to Ethan.
He naturally took it to the kitchen, transferred them to clean food containers, and stored them neatly in the refrigerator.
Scarlett blinked, looking somewhat surprised.
"Professor Stone is such an accomplished person, but I never expected him to be so meticulous with household chores!"
I smiled and slowly wiped the juice from my hands with a wet tissue.
Ethan was indeed excellent at housework.
Diligent, detailed, and organized.
Very much to my liking.
Ethan came over and sat on one side of the long sofa, picking up his phone to check it.
This position put him very close to the single sofa where Scarlett sat, their feet almost touching.
Scarlett straightened her chest, her eyes sparkling.
I tilted my head and smiled at her.
"You came here today for a reason, didn't you?"
Her lips curved into a smile.
"People say Professor Gray has wisdom and intuition, and they're absolutely right! The thing is, I've become quite interested in history lately, but I have no foundation and really can't understand some parts. I thought, since we're neighbors, maybe I could occasionally ask Professor Stone for guidance?"
As she spoke, she looked directly at Ethan.
Ethan seemed focused on his phone and didn't respond immediately.
Scarlett bit her lip lightly.
Ethan had outstanding academic abilities but was also quite arrogant. After publishing two well-received historical works, he had been invited to several banquets by some fame-seeking businesspeople.
He returned quite displeased and from then on, whenever anyone mentioned seeking his guidance, he would first claim to have "stupidity intolerance," completely disregarding whether others could save face.
At this moment, Ethan slowly raised his gaze from his phone, glanced at Scarlett with indifference, and said calmly:
"History is a profound and extensive discipline that requires persistence and patience. Can you manage that?"
Scarlett lifted her chin and said sweetly:
"Of course! I definitely won't disappoint you, Professor Stone!"
I leaned back and quietly observed the scene before me.
Scarlett's wet hair had dampened the white dress across her chest, making it somewhat transparent, her curves faintly visible.
She seemed completely unaware, excitedly leaning forward to ask about reading lists.
Ethan spoke effortlessly, naming one book while Scarlett lowered her head to write it down.
My gaze fell on the Japanese maple bonsai in the center of the balcony.
Despite careful nurturing,
For some reason, it was beginning to wilt.
I suddenly stood up.
The two people who had been moving closer together were interrupted by my movement and stopped abruptly, both looking at me.
I smiled and raised the scissors in my hand.
"You continue. I'm going to trim the plants."
5
From that day on, Scarlett came by every few days.
She always appeared as if she'd just finished bathing—either with flushed cheeks or half-wet hair. Each time she entered, the entire room filled with mixed fragrances.
She would curl up in the single sofa with a book, asking Ethan various questions:
"Did King Zhou really light the beacon fires just to make Bao Si smile?"
"Did Xi Shi really retire with Fan Li afterward?"
"Emperor Taizong was actually Yang Guifei's father-in-law?!"
"I know this one—Empress Dowager Cixi got pregnant while she was already a dowager!"
Ethan would elaborate extensively, never tiring, his eyebrows and voice carrying subtle excitement.
Because of Scarlett's involvement, mine and Ethan's nightly "reading time" was pushed back.
He made a point of explaining to me:
"Ryan asked me to help look after Scarlett. If she's willing to study, that's better than going out drinking with friends at night. This is what Ryan wanted too."
I held the cat in my lap, keeping my eyes down without speaking.
He thought for a moment and added:
"How about this—when she comes over, I'll take her into the study so we don't disturb you and Emma in the living room."
Ethan regarded his study as sacred territory. The bookcases, desk, lamp, and decorative items were all carefully arranged by him.
He called it his materialized spiritual domain.
Except for me, he never let outsiders in. Even when Emma accidentally wandered in to play, he would coax her out.
I quietly looked up at him.
"You've already decided?"
He nodded and smiled again.
"Of course, but I still want your opinion."
I slowly stroked the lazy cat's head, silent for a few seconds, then replied gently:
"I don't mind."
...
Spring was mating season.
The lazy cat somehow escaped from the balcony, and Ethan and I searched the neighborhood several times looking for it.
That evening, when I returned from looking for the cat, I found Emma sitting alone in the living room playing with toys. When I had gone downstairs, Ethan was in the living room with Emma.
"Where's Daddy?" I asked.
"Aunt Scarlett came over."
My gaze turned to the study door, which was slightly ajar. Inside was completely quiet.
I slowly bent down and released the cat from my arms.
It darted toward the study, pushing the door wide open.
"Oh my!"
Scarlett's surprised cry came from inside.
I walked in, muttering, "This cat is always running around!"
Ethan jumped up, panic flashing across his face.
Scarlett's cheeks were flushed, breathing slightly heavily.
I picked up the cat and, as I left, casually glanced at Ethan and said gently:
"Ethan, you're getting overheated—your lips are cracked."
Ethan quickly wiped his lips with the back of his hand and said hoarsely:
"Ah, yes, overheated."
6
On the weekend, Ethan was cooking in the kitchen.
He was an excellent cook—sweet and sour fish and caramelized bananas, both dishes I loved.
Although he handled all the housework, I occasionally did simple tasks.
Like folding his clean clothes and putting them in the closet.
Professor Johnson called while I was quietly examining a white shirt in my hands.
Two obvious lipstick marks on the chest.
Folded neatly and hidden deep in the closet.
"Anna, tomorrow is my wife's birthday. I've invited a few former students—you should come join the celebration!"
I put the shirt back exactly as it was and smiled in response:
"Of course, Professor. I'll definitely be there tomorrow."
Professor Johnson and his wife were both giants in the philosophy field and had always been very good to me.
It was a small gathering with successful and wealthy former students, while I was just an ordinary university professor.
Mrs. Johnson took my hand and sighed:
"I originally thought you had great ambitions, but I never expected you'd be the first to marry and have children. That's fine too—women have to walk this path eventually. Speaking of which, I was the one who introduced you to Ethan!"
My senior fellow William walked over and handed me a cup of pu-erh tea. After I accepted it, he turned and joked:
"So Mrs. Johnson plays matchmaker too? If I'd known, I would have asked her to set me up long ago."
Mrs. Johnson shook her head.
"I wasn't really matchmaking. Anna once asked me how philosophy research could achieve breakthroughs in a short time, and I said to find a history department collaborator. When she asked if I had any recommendations, I mentioned Ethan."
William glanced at me and suddenly became somewhat quiet.
When leaving, Mrs. Johnson asked William to drive me home.
He was three years ahead of me, studied philosophy but made his fortune in business, and was now a tech mogul worth billions.
"Anna, I'm privately funding a social research project with unlimited budget. Interested in participating?"
He studied me intently, his eyes flickering.
I pressed my lips together. "Maybe when there's an opportunity."
"Ha, you say that every time these past few years."
He put his hands in his pockets and laughed quietly, kicking a small stone on the ground, looking like his old self.
"Anna, I wish I had studied history back then, don't you think?"
I frowned slightly, watching him quietly without speaking.
William's eyes were deep. He reached out as if to pat my head like he used to in school, but halfway there, he pulled his hand back and said self-mockingly:
"Forget it. I'll never figure out what you're thinking."
He took a long breath and smiled at me again:
"I still want to wait a few more years anyway. You never know!"
When we reached my building, he got out to open the car door for me.
I politely bid him farewell.
"Anna." He called after me.
I turned around.
He looked at me steadily and sighed. "About the research project—if you don't want to join, you can recommend someone else. I'll save a spot for you. This project is highly competitive outside."
I smiled and waved noncommittally.
"Goodbye."
As William's car drove away, Ethan called out to me.
He walked over carrying groceries, looking surprised. "Was that William King from Innovation Tech Group?"
I said "mm-hmm." "He's Mrs. Johnson's student."
Ethan immediately became excited. "He recently invested a huge amount of money specifically for social science projects. I just submitted my application. You know him?"
I smiled and shook my head.
"Not really. Mrs. Johnson just asked him to drive me home."
7
That evening, after returning from a walk with Emma and preparing to tend to the plants, I suddenly discovered that the Japanese maple bonsai on the balcony had vanished.
I searched everywhere, and while looking in the hallway, I heard Ethan's voice coming from Scarlett's apartment.
Ever since the cat had burst through the door that time, Scarlett had suggested having Ethan come to her place to teach her.
"Anna, I feel bad disturbing you and Emma every time I come to your place. Since no one's home at mine anyway, why don't Professor Stone come to my place instead!"
She said playfully, "If Anna doesn't feel comfortable with it, I can keep the door open so you can come over anytime."
The door was open, so I slowly walked over.
Low voices drifted out.
"Professor Stone, with us spending so much time together lately, Anna won't mind, will she?"
Ethan seemed to chuckle. "She wouldn't dare."
"Why not?"
Ethan used the same tone he employed when evaluating historical events to assess me:
"Anna is different from you. She appears gentle and easy-going on the surface, but she's actually a typical rationalist."
"What does that mean?" Scarlett's voice carried a hint of petulance. "Professor Stone, didn't I tell you not to use those big fancy words! I don't understand!"
Ethan laughed and softened his tone.
"I mean she's extremely perceptive and weighs the pros and cons of everything. In this household, I'm ultimately the one in charge. I'm the best resource she can access within her circumstances, so as long as I make a decision, she would never oppose me. Look, has she shown any dissatisfaction toward you during this time?"
"You're right, she hasn't."
Scarlett had a moment of realization.
When Ethan returned home, I was curled up on the sofa petting the cat.
He seemed to be in a good mood and, remembering something, asked with a smile:
"Come to think of it, why hasn't this cat been running outside lately?"
I stroked the lazy cat's head as it made comfortable purring sounds.
"Too much trouble. I had it neutered."
I said softly.
8
Scarlett's attitude toward me underwent an indescribable change.
Previously, when we met, she would initiate greetings, calling me "Anna" with warm smiles.
Now, she would only smile faintly without speaking, her gaze drifting over me with arrogance, mockery, and even a hint of pity.
Like a proud, regal peacock, absolutely confident in herself yet disdaining to display it publicly.
Ethan went across the hall every evening.
Without fail.
He always returned with subtle, barely noticeable changes.
The faint scent of perfume on his body.
A mysteriously unbuttoned shirt button.
Small, cute bite marks on the back of his hand.
Scarlett occasionally brought over fruit, constantly saying that since Professor Stone wouldn't accept payment for tutoring, she felt terrible and could only buy little things as thanks.
When she said this, Ethan would sit seriously on the sofa, the corners of his mouth lifting in an almost imperceptible arc.
One bright and flamboyant, the other reserved and restrained.
In the summer evening living room, an unspoken understanding pulsed between them.
One day, Scarlett brought over a watermelon.
I was on the balcony watering plants while talking to Mrs. Johnson on the phone.
Emma complained of thirst, so Ethan cut up the watermelon and handed a piece to Emma.
When he offered some to Scarlett, she wouldn't take it.
She first glanced meaningfully at me, then looked up at Ethan and pouted slightly:
"Sorry, I don't like the sticky feeling on my hands. I only drink watermelon juice."
Ethan smiled and headed to the kitchen.
Scarlett seemed to develop an interest in the plants on the balcony and suddenly got up to walk over, bumping into Emma who was concentrating on eating watermelon.
Emma lost her balance and instinctively grabbed onto Scarlett.
Two small handprints stained with red juice appeared on the white dress.
"What's wrong with you?!"
Scarlett immediately started yelling.
She yanked her dress away, causing Emma to fall to the ground and burst into tears.
Hearing the commotion, Ethan strode out of the kitchen carrying a glass of freshly squeezed watermelon juice.
Scarlett looked at him with tears in her eyes, expression aggrieved:
"Forget it, Emma didn't mean to. It's just that this dress was quite expensive, so I'm a bit upset."
Ethan set down the juice, pulled Emma to her feet, and spoke sternly:
"Emma, apologize to Auntie."
Emma's eyes widened as she cried intermittently:
"Daddy... Emma didn't... Aunt Scarlett pushed Emma down!"
Ethan's brow darkened, his tone extremely displeased:
"Emma!