Chapter 8

“There’s no room for you here.”

“Give me the agreement and I’ll leave.”

“Which agreement?”

“The agreement where Mingming lent you 200,000 yuan.”

I looked at Zhao Ming.

“You told her?”

My mother-in-law answered as if it were obvious. “His money is partly mine too.”

“Then tell him to show us the transfer receipt.”

She was at a loss for words.

Zhao Ming immediately said, “The money was given in cash that year. There was no bank transfer.”

“200,000 yuan in cash?”

“Your father sold a house to buy you one. Don’t you think your family could have had that much cash?”

“So you can just say I took money from him?”

Zhao Ming’s face darkened.

“You signed the agreement.”

My mother-in-law stepped forward.

“Don’t use your house to bully my son. He’s suffered so much for this family. Don’t you know that?”

I held up my phone.

“The final payment for the house was made before the date on the agreement.”

My mother-in-law looked at Zhao Ming.

“Didn’t you tell me you only lent her the money later?”

Zhao Ming’s expression stiffened.

I seized on her words.

“You told Mom you lent me the money later, but she says it was for buying the house. How many different versions have you prepared?”

My mother-in-law realized she had misspoken and pointed at me.

“You deliberately tricked me into saying that!”

“You said it yourself.”

Zhao Ming pulled her back.

“Mom, stop talking.”

It was the first time he had told his mother to be quiet.

But his eyes quickly turned back to me.

“The court will investigate the agreement.”

“I’ll wait.”

He took my mother-in-law away.

The next day, Zhao Ming’s lawyer requested an investigation into my bank accounts.

They were trying to prove that my post-marital income had not been enough for me to cover the house payments on my own.

My lawyer said I needed to submit all my income records from before marriage, the money my father had transferred to me, and the mortgage-payment receipts from after we married.

I organized documents until late at night.

My mother came up from the countryside to help look after the children.

After she saw the loan agreement, her expression changed.

“This signature looks like your uncle’s handwriting.”

I looked up at her.

“My uncle’s?”

“The year you bought the house, your father was hospitalized. Your uncle came to help with the accounts for a while. He saw your signature.”

I thought of the mortgage-payment messages that had disappeared from my old phone.

Zhao Ming had borrowed that phone.

I also remembered that he had once borrowed my property deed, saying he needed to make a photocopy.

At the time, he said his company needed proof of his home address for a loan application.

I hadn’t thought much of it.

My mother looked at me.

“Do you think he got someone to forge your signature?”

“I don’t have proof yet.”

“Then investigate.”

The next day, I went to the bank to request the statements.

The employee told me that my father had indeed transferred 200,000 yuan into my account that year, with the note “house purchase.”

The transfer was made just before the final payment date.

At the same time, Zhao Ming’s account showed no large cash withdrawals at all.

My lawyer submitted the statements to the court.

The opposing side quickly requested a postponement.

I knew Zhao Ming had started to panic.

But he did not withdraw his custody petition.

Instead, he started acting affectionate toward the children. Every day he took them to and from school and bought them new backpacks.

My mother-in-law changed her approach too.

She stopped scolding the children and instead stood crying outside the school, telling everyone her daughter-in-law had driven her out of the house.

A few parents began gossiping about me.

The homeroom teacher asked to speak with me.

“Ms. Zhao, try not to let this family dispute affect the children.”

“I’ll handle it.”

“The children have been under a lot of pressure lately.”

When I got home, I asked them what had happened.

Zhao Nian took out a piece of paper.

It was a letter from my mother-in-law addressed to them.

There were only a few sentences:

“Grandma has nowhere to go because your mother is unfilial. If you’re sensible, you’ll persuade your mother to give the house to your father.”

Zhao Hang tore the letter to pieces.

“She said if we don’t help her, we’re bad children.”

I picked up the scraps and put them away.

“You don’t have to take responsibility for adults.”

Zhao Nian looked up at me.

“Mom, are you going to lose?”

“No.”

It was the first time I had given my children a definite answer.

That night, Zhao Ming sent me a voice message.

“Wanqing, Mom is staying at Xiaoxue’s now, sleeping on the sofa every day. Her health is getting worse. Can’t you give in a little?”

I didn’t reply.

Right afterward, Zhao Ming sent a picture.

My mother-in-law was lying on a sofa, a bandage on the back of her hand and a box of medicine beside her.

The accompanying message contained just one sentence:

“Mom is sick. Are you happy now?”

I forwarded the picture to my lawyer.

She glanced at it and said, “This picture doesn’t prove anything. Don’t let him manipulate you.”

The next morning, I ran into Zhao Xue at the entrance to the residential complex.

She blocked my way.

“Mom went to the hospital today.”

“If she’s sick, she should get treatment.”

“Mom says if you don’t take her in, she won’t get treated.”