💔 The Warm Decay of Unity: When “Not Saints” Becomes an Excuse for Betrayal and Irresponsibility
The night was heavy, the neon lights casting a dreamlike glow over the city. People walked briskly, their expressions varied, but no matter how they masked themselves, the turmoil within was hard to conceal. A news alert flashed on a phone screen, bringing up the name of an old man once again. Online forums were flooded with debates among the DPP’s Qingying supporters, their arguments surging like a tide—“Tsao Hsing-cheng isn’t a saint, so what’s wrong with having a girlfriend?”
He smiled bitterly, lit a cigarette, and watched the white smoke swirl and dissipate in the cold air. Memories, like light through a crack, took him back to the past.
—If only that day, his wife hadn’t calmly said, “I fell in love with someone else.” If only she hadn’t handed her heart over to another man, leaving him to stand there, feeling his heart torn apart inch by inch, then perhaps he could have laughed off those words.
But how many “if onlys” are there in the world?
“It’s just loving someone else while in a marriage. Is that so wrong?” The online comments, filled with sarcasm, indifference, and disdain for trust and responsibility, echoed the sentiment: “You’re too conservative. Who still lives in the old days?”
He extinguished his cigarette and quietly read those words. Do these people truly understand the weight of love and marriage?
The Collapse of Moral Foundations
He seemed to see a world where the moral foundation had already crumbled. There, people used “not saints” as an excuse to indulge their desires; they believed deception was inconsequential because “who hasn’t made mistakes?”; they rationalized betrayal because “love is never absolute.”
As a result, responsibility was forgotten, trust became a joke, marriage was reduced to a game, and feelings ultimately turned into a stinking feast.
He suddenly felt as if he were standing on a wasteland, surrounded by the sickly sweet smell of decay. This was a warm decay of unity, a group of people who had lost their sense of shame, huddling together for warmth and comfort. They told each other: “It’s okay, we’re all the same.”
But are they really the same?
If one day, they too became the betrayed, when the messages on their phones no longer belonged to them, when their lover’s gaze shifted to someone else, could they still lightly say, “It doesn’t matter, love is their freedom”?
He let out a cold laugh. Perhaps only then would they understand that not all pain can be covered with a simple “it’s no big deal.”
—But reality is not a novel. When you make excuses for someone’s betrayal, don’t forget, the next person to be betrayed might be you.