Chapter 7

“You think this will get you the children and the apartment?”

“The court will decide.”

Another message arrived almost at once.

“Don’t forget, Zhao Ming has records of all your income over the years.”

I stared at it for several seconds.

I had worked at the training center for ten years. All my wages went into my own bank account.

Aside from everyday expenses, most of that money paid for the children’s tutoring and insurance.

Those records could only prove that I had covered most of the family’s spending.

So why deliberately draw my attention to them?

I called my lawyer.

After a brief silence, the lawyer said:

“He may argue that your earnings after marriage went toward the mortgage, making the property’s increase in value a marital asset.”

“The mortgage was paid over three years. I made all the payments myself.”

“Do you have proof?”

“Yes.”

I switched on my old phone.

It still held the monthly repayment notifications from that time.

But when I opened them, I discovered some had been deleted.

It wasn’t a fault with the phone.

Zhao Ming had borrowed it, saying he wanted to export the children’s photos.

That had happened just before I started gathering evidence.

I called him.

“You went through my old phone, didn’t you?”

“So what if I did?”

“Did you delete messages?”

“How would I know what you’re talking about?”

“Zhao Ming, you’d better not have touched them.”

He laughed.

“You even have to guard against me now. What’s the point of living like this?”

The moment I hung up, I went to the bank.

After a lengthy search, an employee told me the statements from over ten years earlier had been archived. I would have to request retrieval.

As I came out of the bank, I found Zhao Ming waiting outside.

He held a stack of documents.

“Wanqing, your lawyer says you want a divorce. Let’s settle the children and the apartment once and for all.”

I didn’t take the papers.

He held them in front of me.

“This is the evidence I found.”

I looked down. It was a loan agreement dated around the time I bought the apartment.

The borrower was me.

The lender was Zhao Ming.

7.

I took the agreement.

The paper had yellowed. It was dated six months after I bought the apartment.

It stated that Zhao Ming had lent me two hundred thousand yuan to pay the outstanding balance.

My name appeared in the signature space.

The handwriting looked very much like mine.

I stared at it.

“Where did this come from?”

“I’ve kept it all along.”

“I never borrowed money from you.”

“You signed.”

“That isn’t my signature.”

He took the agreement back.

“The court can have it examined.”

I looked at him.

“When did you get this?”

“What does that have to do with you?”

“If you’ve had it all along, why haven’t you mentioned it once in twelve years of marriage?”

He didn’t answer.

As he turned to go, I called after him.

“Who signed it for you?”

His step caught.

That tiny hesitation was enough to convince me someone else was behind the agreement.

He turned back.

“Don’t start imagining things.”

“I’ll request handwriting analysis.”

“Suit yourself.”

After he left, I immediately sent my lawyer a photograph of the agreement.

“Have you ever seen this before?” the lawyer asked after examining it.

“No.”

“There are obvious problems around the signature. We’ll request an examination first, and obtain the bank records from that year.”

At home, I went through every premarital document I had kept.

The purchase contract showed that the outstanding balance had been paid eight months before the date on the loan agreement.

In other words, by the time I had supposedly borrowed the money, the apartment had long since been paid for.

Even the basic dates didn’t match.

I told my lawyer.

“That evidence is very helpful. But we still need to establish where the signature came from.”

At eight that evening, Zhao Ming brought his mother to my door again.

This time, they had no locksmith.

“Wanqing,” he called, “Mom wants to talk.”

I opened the door but didn’t let them in.

She reached out to push it wider.

“I’m the children’s grandmother. Can’t I enter my own grandchildren’s home?”

“There’s no room for you here.”

“Hand over the agreement, and I’ll leave.”

“What agreement?”

“The one for the two hundred thousand Mingming lent you.”

I looked at Zhao Ming.

“You told her?”

His mother spoke with complete conviction.

“Some of his money belongs to me too.”

“Then ask him for the transfer receipt.”

She faltered.

“It was cash,” Zhao Ming cut in. “There was no transfer.”

“Two hundred thousand in cash?”