Juyan walked in without mentioning a word about his suspension. He showered, changed his clothes, put on my bow headband, and came downstairs with a facial mask on.
While he was in the shower, I snuck a few peeks at the office slack-off group chat. My colleagues were letting their imaginations run wild, DIY-ing every aspect of Juyan’s private life. The camp convinced he was guilty of sexual harassment insisted that, despite President Ju’s usual stern and stoic demeanor, men like him were the most repressed and likely lived wild, decadent lives behind closed doors. Another colleague analyzed that although Juyan wore a wedding ring, no one had ever seen his wife. They speculated that either he and his wife led separate lives, or he had no wife at all, arguing that it was strange for a man of his age to be unmarried, so he must be faking it.
Even though I am his wife, I found the gossip thoroughly entertaining.
Chapter 357