Chapter 5
Edward Quan ·
My mother-in-law pointed at me and cursed.
“You’ll get what’s coming to you.”
I took the children home.
Zhao Nian didn’t speak the whole way.
Only once we were home did she ask:
“Mom, does Dad want to take us away too?”
I crouched down.
“He’s your father, but that doesn’t mean anyone can simply take you away.”
“Then why does Grandma say we and the apartment belong to the Zhao family?” Zhao Heng asked.
“Because she wants you to think she has a claim to this home through you.”
“But it’s yours.”
“Remember this: sharing a surname doesn’t tell you who treats you well.”
Zhao Ming came back that evening.
Seeing the children sitting beside me, he looked furious.
“Why did you take the children to make a scene at school?”
“Your mother and Zhao Xue went there to find them.”
“They only wanted to see them.”
“Zhao Xue shoved Zhao Heng.”
He turned to our son.
“Did your aunt push you?”
Zhao Heng pressed his lips together and said nothing.
Zhao Ming crouched in front of him.
“I’m asking you.”
Our son looked up.
“She pushed me, and I hit my head against the wall.”
Zhao Ming’s expression stiffened.
“She probably didn’t mean to.”
Zhao Nian suddenly spoke.
“Dad, are you going to send us away so Grandma can move in?”
He stood up.
“Who told you that?”
“Grandma said we all belong to the Zhao family.”
He glanced at me.
“Wanqing, stop stirring things up in front of the children.”
“I haven’t said anything.”
“You’re making them afraid of me.”
I laid the stills from the school’s security footage on the table.
“You don’t even see who’s really frightening them.”
He picked up a photo, then put it down again.
“Think carefully about the lawsuit.”
“I have.”
“You really think you can leave me and have a good life with two children?”
“At least we won’t have to give up our rooms for the three of you.”
His face darkened.
“Don’t push me.”
“You’ve already pushed me all the way to court.”
He left without staying for dinner, slamming the door behind him.
In the middle of the night, Zhao Xue messaged me.
“Mom has decided to live at your place. We’re bringing a locksmith tomorrow to change the lock.”
I didn’t reply.
The next morning, my mother-in-law did turn up with a locksmith.
As Zhao Ming took out his key, I had already asked management to hold the elevator on the ground floor and send security up.
He spoke through the door.
“Wanqing, open up.”
I opened it, but held my phone in front of him.
“What do you call changing the lock to enter a property without its owner’s permission?”
He glanced at the guard and lowered his voice.
“Do you really have to take this as far as it can go?”
“I’m protecting my own front door.”
Behind him, my mother-in-law suddenly addressed the locksmith.
“Open it. I’ll take responsibility.”
I called the police in front of them.
The locksmith immediately packed up his tools.
Zhao Ming pounded on the door in fury.
The children fled to their room.
I switched on the recorder.
“Go on.”
He stopped.
The police arrived, asked what had happened, and examined my property certificate and purchase documents.
One officer told Zhao Ming:
“If ownership is disputed, you can resolve it through the courts. You cannot force your way in without the owner’s permission.”
His mother sat down on the floor and cried.
“A son needs someone else’s permission to enter his own home! Is there any justice left?”
The officer glanced at her.
“Ma’am, the person named on the certificate has the right to decide who lives here.”
Zhao Ming looked livid.
After the police left, he stood in the corridor and asked:
“What exactly do you want me to do?”
“Withdraw the claim and take your mother elsewhere.”
“I can’t.”
“Then carry on.”
He stared at me, then abruptly said:
“You think this is the only option I have?”
That evening, my lawyer called.
Zhao Ming had applied for custody of both children.
6.
I gripped the phone.
“On what grounds?”
“He intends to argue that you’re controlling, obstruct the children’s contact with their paternal grandmother, and unilaterally decide who may live in the marital home.”
“The apartment was mine before we married.”
“We’ll submit evidence of that. But custody will also depend on both parties’ living conditions, time available for childcare, and income.”
Zhao Ming had a stable job paying twelve thousand yuan a month.
I worked in academic administration at a training center, earning a little over six thousand.
I had looked after the children since birth: schools, hospitals, extracurricular classes, parent-teacher meetings. All of it fell to me.
But those everyday acts of care were difficult to turn into pages of evidence.
My lawyer told me to gather their birth certificates, payment receipts, school pickup records, and medical files.
I took more than a dozen folders from the cabinet.
Every one was dated.
Zhao Ming had once laughed at me for keeping them.