Chapter One: This Damned Sincerity

“Why are there men’s underwear on the bed? Are you cheating on me behind my back?”
A man’s furious roar pierced Lin Xiao’s ears.
Everything was pitch black before Lin Xiao’s eyes—he couldn’t see a thing. His mind felt as muddled as a bowl of congee.
Who am I? Where am I?
In the darkness, Lin Xiao turned his head, brushing against soft fabrics that grazed his cheek.
Clothes? Am I inside a wardrobe?
A sudden suspicion arose: am I the lover hiding in someone’s closet?
Outside, the argument continued.
“I came home with you! How should I know whose underwear that is?” a woman retorted.
“I’m searching the whole house right now. If I find your lover, you’re both dead!”
Could it be I’m really that unfortunate?
The husband seemed quite hot-tempered. If he found Lin Xiao, would he get beaten half to death, stripped, and dragged out for public humiliation?
What a miserable fate!
Clatter! Bang!
He heard the man ransacking the place, searching every corner, then finally coming closer to the wardrobe.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Lin Xiao couldn’t tell if that was the man’s footsteps or his own pounding heartbeat.
Creak…
The wooden door of the wardrobe opened a crack.
This is it!
Just as Lin Xiao tensed to the extreme, a key rattled in the front door.
“Damn it! Who’s that? How do they have your house key?”
“No one but my husband has a key. But my husband…”
“Enough! Where can I hide?”
“You don’t need to hide, my husband doesn’t—”
“How can I not hide like this? Go stall them!”
Before the woman finished, the man pushed her toward the door and yanked open the wardrobe.
A burly man, clad only in underwear, squeezed inside.
So eager? He undressed before reaching the bed?
The man’s eyes widened in shock when he saw Lin Xiao.
Lin Xiao could only offer a polite wave.
If I’m not embarrassed, the awkwardness belongs to someone else.
There really is someone else in here?
After his initial surprise, the burly man’s expression turned fierce.
Lin Xiao glared back, undaunted:
You’re not the real husband, either. We’re both lovers—why act tough with me?
“Shh!”
Seeing the man about to explode, Lin Xiao pointed at the door. “Sir, you don’t want her husband to catch you, do you?”
Since they were both in the same wretched predicament, hiding in the wardrobe, they could only sink or swim together.
The man nodded reluctantly.
The wardrobe door closed again.
In the darkness, the argument outside was exceptionally clear.
“Why are there men’s clothes everywhere? And a pair of men’s underwear on the bed? Are you cheating on me?”
“That’s none of your business! Why do you have a key?”
“I had one made, of course! How else could I catch you? I’m searching right now. If I find your lover, you’re both dead!”
“I can sleep with whoever I want. You’re not my husband, so what right do you have to lecture me?”
This déjà vu dialogue left Lin Xiao speechless.
So this isn’t the real husband either—another lover come to catch someone cheating?
Seriously, why are all you lovers so self-righteous?
“Who the hell are you? I was hoping to catch you cheating!”
Learning that the newcomer wasn’t the actual husband, the burly man squeezed out of the wardrobe in a fury.
“I knew you were cheating! Caught you red-handed!” the latest arrival shouted.
“Cheating? With so many lovers, do you think you can catch them all?”
“What?”
“There’s one more. Come out. Since we’re all in the same boat, let’s discuss what to do.” The burly man glanced at the wardrobe.
“There’s someone else in the wardrobe?” the woman exclaimed.
“Didn’t you hide him there? Who are you? Come out!”
So I’m not a lover—am I a thief?
Utterly confused, Lin Xiao crawled out of the wardrobe.
When the woman saw his face, she gasped in shock. “Husband? Weren’t you still in prison?”
Husband?
The two lovers looked as if they’d seen a ghost: why was the real husband coming out of the wardrobe?
Lin Xiao hadn’t expected it either—so he was the wronged husband, not the other man.
“I got out of prison early. I wanted to surprise you, but…” Lin Xiao trailed off.
“So, now that you’ve seen it with your own eyes, are you going to divorce me?” the woman retorted, utterly unashamed.
“I…”
Just as Lin Xiao was about to reply, the scene before him began to distort, as if a mirror was shattering into a thousand fissures.
With a sharp crack, the vision fragmented, and everything went black.
…
When Lin Xiao’s eyes opened again, he found himself seated in a client reception room, surrounded by pristine white walls and bright lights.
A man in his thirties sat across from him.
Dizziness faded quickly as Lin Xiao’s sense of self returned.
My name is Lin Xiao. I’m eighteen years old, the owner of a memory experience shop called Amber of Time.
Owner was a grand title—he was really just self-employed, without anyone to boss around.
The shop’s business was simple: help customers erase painful memories or provide them with wonderful memory experiences.
It was a career that brought happiness to others, and in earning a living, Lin Xiao also gained a deep sense of fulfillment.
Compared to so many people forced to do soul-crushing jobs just to survive, his life was pretty good.
The middle-aged man across from him, Mr. Zhang, was a client who had just relived a memory and still seemed a little dazed.
Lin Xiao, still woozy, looked up and caught his own reflection in the glass over the opposite wall. He still wasn’t used to it.
This is outrageously handsome.
With this face in my previous life, I could have coasted by on looks alone—no rich woman would ever refuse me.
A face both heroic and tinged with just the right touch of melancholy, it could inspire endless pity in women.
With such gifts, if he had wanted to become a heartbreaker, he could have left women utterly ruined.
But that was only a fantasy. On the wall hung an enormous plaque, its blood-red characters declaring:
Absolute Sincerity!
The bloody script seemed to warn him to always keep this in mind, or disaster would follow.
Seeing Lin Xiao still dizzy, Mr. Zhang felt a perverse satisfaction and asked gloatingly,
“Mr. Lin, does your head hurt?”
Honestly, he didn’t like Lin Xiao at all.
As a man wounded by love, it was only natural to feel jealous seeing such a handsome guy.
What was that saying?
You’ll never know how forward the woman you worship is when she’s with a good-looking man.
Handsome men are the true class enemies!
If he could help it, he would never share his most humiliating memories with someone so attractive.
But Lin Xiao’s shop was the most affordable in town, and money was tight—he had no choice.
“It does hurt a bit. That memory was rough—too intense,” Lin Xiao replied.
Mr. Zhang was speechless.
It felt like he’d shot himself in the foot.
The look of contempt in his wife’s eyes resurfaced in his mind. Grief-stricken, Mr. Zhang asked,
“Mr. Lin, in her eyes, am I just trash?”
Lin Xiao paused, but he understood how Mr. Zhang felt.
After being cheated on, a man’s first reaction is anger and shame, but then self-doubt sets in.
Normally, anyone with a shred of emotional intelligence would offer comfort:
It’s her fault, you don’t have to blame yourself.
But Lin Xiao couldn’t say that—his life might depend on it.
So he answered truthfully:
“In her eyes, you’re not trash.”
“Really?”
“Trash at least has some recycling value. You’re not even that.”
Mr. Zhang’s fists clenched unconsciously, aching to punch that handsome face.
But then he remembered how his wife, when caught, hadn’t even apologized. Instead, she’d asked without shame:
“So now that you’ve seen it, are you going to divorce me?”
Lin Xiao was right—he really was worth less than garbage, of no value at all.
Yet he still felt a twinge of defiance and protested, “But it’s not all my fault. You know most wives cheat when their husbands are in prison, right?”
“I know. It’s the Incarceration Inequality,” Lin Xiao replied.
“The Incarceration Inequality?”
“If the sentence is less than two years, the woman will wait for the man (censored);
If the sentence is two to five years, the woman might wait, but not always;
If the sentence is more than five years, the woman won’t wait at all.”
Mr. Zhang was stunned.
How could that be so accurate?
Lin Xiao’s next question broke him completely: “How long was your sentence?”
“One year and two months…”
Not even the average…
Faced with such harsh reality, Mr. Zhang was on the verge of tears.
“I’m so pathetic. I gave her my whole heart, but she still looked down on me.
Mr. Lin, what kind of man do women really like?”
“Women like men who are handsome, strong, wealthy, gentle, considerate, and have time to spend with them,” Lin Xiao replied.
Such a hassle—back in the other world, it would take only five words.
“Isn’t that asking too much? Is there really a man who meets all those standards?”
“It is a tall order, but in my experience, just the first one is usually enough. The rest aren’t so important.”
Mr. Zhang was speechless.