Qi Xi could remain calm and efficient when handling other people’s cases, but once she became a party to a case herself, she found it hard to avoid being clouded by her own involvement. Fortunately, Gu Yan’s words gradually helped her regain her composure.
Right—no matter what, she still needed to investigate and gather evidence on exactly how far her father had gone, exactly how serious his affair was.
Only, Qi Xi hadn’t expected that although she’d wanted to hold off until she understood the full picture, whether by some arrangement of fate or not, Xi Wen discovered Qi Ruiming’s problem before Qi Xi could tell her.
On the night she and Gu Yan agreed to investigate her father together, Qi Xi received a call from her mother.
On the other end of the line, Xi Wen’s voice trembled slightly. “Xi Xi, your father must be having an affair.”
Qi Xi froze.
“I know you might not believe it, but I saw it with my own eyes.” Xi Wen didn’t know Qi Xi already knew, and her voice was suppressing enormous pain. Qi Xi heard her take a deep breath, as if trying to draw in as much oxygen from the air as possible. “Today was your father’s regular spa appointment for me. He personally drove me to the hotel, said he’d wait in the hotel café while handling work emails, and would pick me up when I was done to go home together.”
Qi Xi had known about this habit of Qi Ruiming’s. Although he often missed Qi Xi’s school events, he’d always seemed rather attentive to his wife—for instance, setting aside work once a week to personally drive his wife to her spa appointments, waiting the whole time downstairs at the hotel.
It was precisely these small details that had once made Qi Xi believe her parents truly loved each other. Even if her father had a habit of favoring sons over daughters, at least toward her mother he’d seemed beyond reproach.
But now, hearing the trembling in Xi Wen’s voice on the other end of the phone, and thinking of the shock of seeing that Hermès bag in Wang Juan’s hands, Qi Xi felt that nothing was beyond being overturned anymore.
So many things simply couldn’t withstand comparison. Once compared, past understanding could be completely shattered, leaving nothing but wreckage—like Xi Wen’s Coach bag against Wang Juan’s Hermès.
Details of past affection, looked at from another angle, might turn out to have been nothing but calculated scheming.
“The spa treatment was supposed to be an hour and a half, but the therapist felt unwell and fainted after about ten minutes, so the appointment was suddenly canceled. The therapist was sent to the hospital, and I planned to go find your father in the hotel café.”
Before her mother even finished, Qi Xi had already guessed what came next, yet hearing her own guess confirmed from her mother’s mouth still hit her hard.
“But your father wasn’t in the café.” Xi Wen’s voice had grown nearly fragmented. “I looked all around—he wasn’t at the seat where he’d said he’d be waiting. As I was looking, by coincidence, I saw him coming out of the restroom. Just as I was about to call out to him, I noticed he wasn’t heading back toward the café, but walking toward the hotel gym and pool.”
“A few days ago I’d teased him about a bit of a belly he’d been getting. I thought maybe even though he acted like he didn’t care, he actually minded a lot, and was planning to quietly try to lose weight without me knowing, to save face and avoid embarrassment. So I quietly followed him. But he didn’t go to the gym equipment area—he went to the hotel pool… except he can’t swim at all. He nearly drowned as a child, so he’s had a fear of water ever since. I was curious why, instead of using the equipment, he’d suddenly decide to learn to swim at his age. So I followed him up.”
Qi Xi felt the blood rush to her head. So her father had gone to secretly meet Wang Juan at the pool? If her mother had witnessed something so disgusting…
But what Qi Xi hadn’t expected was that what Xi Wen saw was even more disgusting than her father and his mistress being intimate—
“It turned out your father really wasn’t there to swim. He was there to watch a child swim.”
Qi Xi froze.
Though the temperature wasn’t low at all, Xi Wen’s voice sounded as if it were coming from a frozen wasteland. Qi Xi could even hear the faint chatter of her mother’s teeth: “It was a boy, around ten years old.”
Qi Xi didn’t register it at first, not until her mother’s next sentence hit her like a bucket of ice water poured over her head—
“He looks a lot like your father.”
In the face of overwhelming shock and pain, people often shut down certain overly sensitive senses as a form of self-protection. Qi Xi had never believed that was true—until this moment, when she realized it was.
Her mother’s voice hadn’t grown any quieter, yet to Qi Xi it seemed to grow distant, as if speaking from within a dream, as if this phone call between her and her mother wasn’t really happening, as if it were all just a dream of Qi Xi’s own.
“I heard that boy call your father ‘Dad.'”
…
**
Qi Xi couldn’t even remember how the call with her mother had ended. Her whole body trembled, as if she were a severe Parkinson’s patient who’d also somehow contracted rabies, fearing light, people, and every sound from the outside world.
If only she could find a hole to crawl into, like a hibernating bear—no matter how much wind and snow, as long as she closed her eyes and slept until spring, she would naturally wake to melting snow and warm blossoms. How wonderful that would be.
But Qi Xi felt like a survivor thrown into a locked room, facing walls on every side, with nowhere to run.
No matter how disgusting, how shattering to her worldview, she had no choice but to face it.
She’d thought discovering her father’s affair with Wang Juan was already the most shameless, unprincipled thing imaginable. She hadn’t expected that her father’s betrayal of the family was even more outrageous than she’d thought.
After the ball game ended, it was Gu Yan who accompanied Qi Xi all the way back to her rented apartment. Zhao Yiran was working late that night, so it was just Gu Yan and Qi Xi in the apartment. Qi Xi had originally planned to use the time to work out with Gu Yan a strategy for gathering evidence, but her plans hadn’t kept pace with events.
On the phone, Qi Xi had only managed to briefly comfort her mother. Fortunately, though Xi Wen had suffered a great shock, she still retained enough composure not to rush recklessly into the pool area to confront Qi Ruiming. Instead, she’d been the one comforting Qi Xi: “Xi Xi, don’t worry. Mom knows what to do.”
Under Qi Xi’s continued comfort and conversation, Xi Wen’s emotions gradually settled. Her voice still trembled slightly, but sounded steadier: “Mom won’t do anything rash or foolish. You shouldn’t rush home either—that would arouse your father’s suspicion. This needs careful, long-term planning. If your father really has done this to me, if he really has a ten-year-old son somewhere out there, he must have planned everything meticulously and covered his tracks very carefully. I can’t let anything slip tonight, so I’ll pretend to finish the spa appointment as scheduled and go home with your father as usual. You absolutely must not rush home to confront your father right now, and don’t call him either. Just focus on your own affairs—I’ll handle your father.”
Although Qi Xi was also part of the family, the betrayal of a spouse’s infidelity—possibly even an illegitimate child—affected a daughter and a wife very differently. As a child, Qi Xi already felt the world collapsing around her; she could hardly imagine what her mother, who had trusted Qi Ruiming so completely all these years, must be feeling now, having been struck by this catastrophe with absolutely no warning.
And yet, even now, when her mother was clearly the greater victim, she was still the one comforting Qi Xi, still trying to shield her from the ugliness of it all.
The tears Qi Xi hadn’t been able to shed when she first discovered the affair finally broke free now, falling in a rush.
Though Qi Xi tried hard to bite her lip and stay silent, even through the phone, Xi Wen quickly sensed her daughter’s emotional state. Even in this situation, her voice still carried gentleness and a steadying strength—
“Xi Xi, don’t be afraid, and don’t cry. Trust me, Mom will protect you, will protect this family. Even without your father, as long as you have Mom, you still have a home. I’ll do everything I can to fight for what we deserve.”
Xi Wen’s voice grew calm: “If your father has really done this, I will absolutely not forgive him. I know you probably still wish for a complete family, but this time, Mom can’t give you that. I hope you can understand.”
Of course she could understand her mother!
Qi Xi’s tears wouldn’t stop, and she made her position clear almost immediately: “Mom, whatever you decide to do, I’ll support you unconditionally! Don’t worry about my feelings—just do what’s right for you.”
…
Even after hanging up, Qi Xi still couldn’t shake her distress and self-reproach.
All along, because her mother hadn’t fought her way through the workplace and had always been gentle and soft-spoken, Qi Xi had misunderstood her. She’d always assumed that even if her mother knew about an affair, as long as her father hadn’t gone too far—as long as he felt remorse and expressed a wish to return to the family—her mother probably wouldn’t leave him.
Few among Qi Xi’s generation could tolerate betrayal and unhappiness within a marriage, but having handled Ai Xiang’s case before, she understood not to impose her own values on others—especially women of an older generation, who’d grown up amid different social currents and thus made different choices when facing a spouse’s betrayal.
Because of this, Qi Xi had even struggled with the thought that if her mother wanted to continue on with her father, she would just have to respect that and try to persuade herself to accept it.
Only now, faced with the reality of it, did she realize she didn’t understand her mother as well as she’d thought.
Xi Wen was stronger than she’d imagined, and far less tolerant of betrayal.
Qi Xi had originally worried that if her mother didn’t want a divorce, then telling her about the affair might only cause needless suffering. But seeing Xi Wen’s resolve now, she finally let out a breath of relief.
Yet after that relief came a wave of shame. She was an adult now, but faced with something like this, not only had she failed to step up and protect her mother, her mother was the one having to look out for her instead.
Qi Xi realized that after learning of her father’s affair, she couldn’t keep wallowing in victimhood, asking why this had happened to her. She needed to do what needed to be done.
She had to step up and protect her mother.
She was an adult now, already working. She shouldn’t need her mother to protect her anymore.
**
Now that her mother had made her position clear, Qi Xi felt there was nothing holding her back anymore.
In a marriage where one party has been unfaithful and the other is determined to divorce, the most important thing is to seize the initiative and gather evidence quickly.
Xi Wen’s strategy of telling Qi Xi not to come home was the right one—acting normally was the best way to avoid raising Qi Ruiming’s suspicions.
Though pale and clearly overwhelmed, Qi Xi still gave Gu Yan a brief account of what her mother had discovered. She took a deep breath. “So my dad most likely has a child outside the marriage. I suspect the child is Wang Juan’s, because that would explain everything—why Wang Juan hasn’t worked in years yet still has someone supporting her, why my dad, who’s usually so stingy, was willing to spend so much on that Hermès bag. It’s not just about the affair—it’s because she’s the mother of his son.”
Gu Yan’s face showed genuine shock and astonishment. He seemed to freeze for a moment before gently taking Qi Xi’s hand. “Are you okay, Qi Xi? Do you want me to warm up some milk for you?”
Gu Yan’s voice was extremely gentle, as if afraid that even a slightly raised tone might startle her. “Should we get some rest tonight? Whatever else there is can wait until tomorrow.”
Qi Xi knew Gu Yan meant well, but she shook her head anyway. “No, I want to get the chain of evidence together as soon as possible.”
Gu Yan didn’t let go of her hand, his tone firm. “Then I’ll stay and keep you company until Zhao Yiran gets home. I’m not comfortable leaving you alone right now.”
Qi Xi wiped her tears. She really did need someone with her right now, and she no longer felt the need to put on a brave front—she just nodded at Gu Yan, her eyes red.
Perhaps spurred on by her mother’s words, Qi Xi quickly slipped into her professional mindset. “If my mom wants a divorce, then I need to fight to secure as much of the marital property for her as possible.”
Once she wiped away her tears and returned to professional mode, her voice turned calm and analytical. “First, we can gather evidence proving my dad really did have an affair—one, by catching him and Wang Juan together on record, and two, by finding a financial paper trail between them.”
“The first method is the most direct, but given that he’s kept this affair hidden for over a decade, he must be extremely careful. Especially since Wang Juan now works at his firm—he can always claim any contact with her was work-related. Even if I got a photo of them together, he could just say she’s a close colleague.”
Gu Yan nodded. “Exactly, which is why we should focus on the second method. But banks protect personal privacy very strictly now—even if you got hold of your father’s ID, without him going in person, there’s no way to pull his bank transaction records.”
Qi Xi wasn’t unaware of what Gu Yan was pointing out. She bit her lip, frowning briefly, but then her eyes lit up. “But we can use WeChat! My dad must have added Wang Juan on WeChat, and there are bound to be transfers between them. Courts often determine infidelity based on WeChat transfers these days—if we can find repeated transfers of amounts like 1314 or 520, which carry special romantic meaning, that could establish the affair!”
“But in judicial practice, WeChat transfer evidence almost always has to come from the betrayed spouse getting hold of the other party’s phone themselves.”
Qi Xi knew Gu Yan was right. Even filing a lawsuit now, the court couldn’t force the disclosure of someone else’s phone chat records or transfer history. She’d studied case precedents before—in cases where a spouse repeatedly transferred marital funds to a mistress, this kind of transfer evidence could only be obtained by the betrayed spouse getting hold of the cheating spouse’s phone directly.
If she remembered correctly, Qi Ruiming was supposedly leaving on a business trip the next day. Afraid that delay might allow things to change, Qi Xi immediately called Xi Wen.
Perhaps looking for somewhere safely away from Qi Ruiming to take the call, her mother didn’t pick up for a while.
Qi Xi didn’t waste time on pleasantries, laying out her evidence-gathering plan concisely. “Mom, you need to get hold of his phone. WeChat is sure to have all kinds of clues—besides transfer records, there are also chat logs. The chat logs can prove the affair, and the money in the transfer records can all be sued for as marital property that should be returned by the mistress, since it’s all joint marital property.”
Though clearly still reeling, Xi Wen’s voice, while tired, was fully cooperative. “Xi Xi, tell me what to do.” She sounded a bit flustered. “I studied law too, but I haven’t worked in so long. Can I just screenshot the WeChat transfer records? Would that work as evidence?”
“Mom, first get hold of Dad’s phone, open WeChat, go to the bill section, click download bill. WeChat will give you two options—one for personal reconciliation, one for proof of certification. Choose the certification option. The electronic statement it generates that way comes with an official seal and includes all his transaction details—it can be used as evidence in property disputes and litigation, and courts recognize it.”
Qi Xi walked her mother through the steps on her own phone as she spoke. “After you choose the certification option, you’ll need to select a date range for the statement, then enter the email address to receive it. After that, a page will pop up asking you to enter the WeChat account holder’s real name and ID number—just fill in Dad’s real information. Then there’s the last step, which is crucial—you’ll need to enter the WeChat payment password. Do you know which passwords he usually uses?”
On the other end, Xi Wen listened intently. “I know roughly which passwords your father tends to use—it should be one of a few.”
Xi Wen seemed to be walking somewhere; Qi Xi heard the sound of a door opening and closing on her end.
Qi Xi had assumed her mother was just moving around, but before long, Xi Wen lowered her voice: “Xi Xi, your dad’s in the shower right now. His phone’s charging outside. I’ve got it in my hands.”
Qi Xi’s heart pounded. She hadn’t expected things to move this fast.
On the other end, Xi Wen was presumably following Qi Xi’s earlier instructions to request the electronic statement; all Qi Xi could hear was her mother’s tense, hurried breathing.
A moment later, Xi Wen said, “I got a notification on your dad’s WeChat that the electronic certificate was sent successfully.”
“Mom, that success notification has an extraction code in it. Write it down, then delete the notification so there’s no trace left—Dad won’t know we requested a statement from his phone. The statement will be sent to the email you entered, and you can use the extraction code to open the file and get his transaction details.”
“Okay.”
After acknowledging, Xi Wen went quiet for a moment—presumably extracting the file—and then, after a little while, Qi Xi heard her mother’s suppressed, pained voice: “Xi Xi, I pulled a year of your dad’s transfer records. There are a lot of 1314s and 520s, but even more 52000s and 5200s…”
Having already braced herself, Qi Xi wasn’t as shocked by this further confirmation of the affair as she might have been. What she felt instead was overwhelming anger and hatred. Her mother had always been considerate of how hard and busy Qi Ruiming’s work was, and so had always been frugal in her own life, never buying anything branded—sometimes her entire year’s spending didn’t even match a single red envelope Wang Juan received.
Yet her father, so stingy toward her and her mother, was so generous toward his mistress Wang Juan.
A fire seemed to burn in Qi Xi’s chest. In that moment, she had only one thought—she couldn’t forgive this, couldn’t accept it, and she was determined to claw every last cent of that money back from her father’s mistress.
The timing left Qi Xi and her mother no room to breathe—Qi Ruiming could come looking for his phone at any moment once he finished showering and drying his hair. This evidence-gathering was a race against the clock, so Qi Xi pressed on without pause. “Mom, now that you have the statement in your email, the transfer amounts already include sensitive numbers like 1314 and 520—that alone can legally prove the affair. But there’s something else you need to do: find the recipient of those transfers, go into the electronic statement for each 520 or 1314 transfer, find the option to request an electronic transfer certificate, and request one for every transfer of that amount.”
Both mother and daughter were tense, wary of Qi Ruiming appearing at any moment, and Xi Wen’s voice trembled even more. “I clicked it, but it says ‘The requested electronic certificate contains sensitive personal information. To protect privacy, please enter the recipient’s name to verify.'”
Her mother’s voice sounded close to tears. “Xi Xi, but we don’t know the other person’s name.”
“Wang Juan, Mom. Type that name in.”
Xi Wen acknowledged, and after a brief pause, spoke again: “Xi Xi, it went through successfully.”
The fact that it succeeded meant that the recipient of Qi Ruiming’s 1314 transfers was indeed Wang Juan—only then could the verification have passed and the certificate been issued.
With that, everything was settled. There was no longer any need for doubt or unrealistic hope—Wang Juan really was her father’s mistress, and those transfers with romantically significant amounts had really been sent to her.
Xi Wen was clearly puzzled as to how Qi Xi already knew the mistress’s name, but there was no time to explain everything now. Qi Xi simply said, “Mom, this mistress, Wang Juan, works at Dad’s firm now—she’s around thirty. I’ll explain how I know more later, along with some other things.”
Qi Xi’s heart roiled with fury and the pain of betrayal, but this wasn’t the time to indulge in anger or grief. Gritting her teeth, she forced herself to stay calm. “Mom, now request electronic certificates for all these transfer records. In a moment you’ll get notifications from WeChat Pay with the electronic certificates—once you download the transfer certificates, delete the WeChat Pay notifications.”
Xi Wen was already getting the hang of it. “Got it—clean up all traces. I’ll take care of it.”
Qi Xi had worked with Gu Yan, collaborated with Gu Xuehan, and helped colleagues at Jingge Law Firm—but this was the first time in her life she’d teamed up with her own mother in her professional field.
Though Xi Wen had been out of the workforce for years and wasn’t familiar with modern methods of digital evidence-gathering, Qi Xi’s explanations quickly filled the gaps in her knowledge, and together the two of them completed this piece of evidence collection. Xi Wen then hurried to put Qi Ruiming’s phone back to charge in its original spot before returning to the study to continue the call with Qi Xi.
“Xi Xi, I skimmed through the statement roughly—I suspect the money your dad transferred to Wang Juan on WeChat isn’t the bulk of it. He probably regularly transfers living expenses through his bank card too. Their son looks to be about ten now, so the expenses can’t be small. Tomorrow he’s supposedly going on a business trip—I’ll use the chance while he’s away to go through his stack of receipts.”
Though Xi Wen’s voice still carried a slight unsteadiness, her reasoning was clear and coherent. “Normally, to make reimbursement easier, or to help with the firm’s costs, your dad keeps receipts for anything he can get one for—it’s practically a habit. But because he’s lazy about it, he lets them pile up for six months or so before turning them in to the firm’s finance department all at once. The receipts from the last six months should still be at home.”
Xi Wen paused before continuing. “Whenever he goes out to spend money with Wang Juan, he’ll definitely get a receipt. If we just mark down which restaurants show up most often in the dining receipts from the last six months, we can figure out roughly where he’s been keeping her.”
Facing such a devastating betrayal, one that had shattered the family, both Qi Xi and Xi Wen were in pain and turmoil inside—yet this moment was, for Qi Xi, an experience hard to put into words.
She’d never imagined that one day she’d be discussing legal evidence-gathering strategy with her mother, working together—and her mother kept surprising her.
It was in this moment that Qi Xi truly felt, for the first time, the brilliance her mother must have had as an outstanding graduate of Rongda Law School.
In the past, Xi Wen had only ever been the gentle, accommodating mother in Qi Xi’s eyes. But now, Qi Xi realized her mother was also her alumna, her senior in the field—someone who had received the same professional legal education, and hadn’t let it all go to waste.
“Also, your dad’s flying out tomorrow for his trip—Driver Chen will take him straight to the airport, so his car will stay at home. Tomorrow I’ll go find the SD card from his dashcam, and also check his frequently searched and used addresses in the navigation app. Those might be useful too.”
Xi Wen’s thinking was methodical. She wasn’t as practiced with digital evidence as Qi Xi, but with other kinds of evidence, her thoroughness was no less impressive. “Your dad and this Wang Juan have probably been together for many years, and if there’s a child, it’s definitely not just a matter of occasional cash. You told me this mistress is only around thirty—if she was willing to have your dad’s son, she must have gotten something substantial out of it.”
Exactly. That was it.
Xi Wen went on. “So your dad has definitely been siphoning off marital assets all along. He’s probably bought her a house and a car by now, and their daily living expenses probably aren’t small either. We need to find every piece of evidence we can to trace exactly what assets he’s transferred away.”
Qi Xi’s breathing quickened, but her eyes lit up. She felt that familiar sense of total immersion that came with solving a difficult problem at work, and even her anger and grief were somewhat diluted by it. “Mom, you mean we need to dig up every asset he’s transferred?”
“Mm.”
Qi Xi said sincerely, “Mom, do you realize you’d have made a really great lawyer?” She couldn’t help feeling a pang of regret. “Giving up your own career for me, for Dad—that’s such a waste. If you’d started your own practice back then instead, would things have been different…”
“Xi Xi, Mom has never regretted choosing to stay home and take care of you. Don’t blame yourself over this either. A child doesn’t choose to come into this world—it was Mom’s choice to have you, so it’s only right that I took care of you. You don’t owe me anything. Quitting my job was my own decision, so whatever comes of it now is also mine to bear.”
Even now, Xi Wen’s voice, though pained, carried warmth. “The years I spent at home weren’t unhappy—there were plenty of good memories. It’s just that things are different now. After what your father’s done, I can never forgive him, and I can never go back to how things were.”
“So I’m not going to dwell on ‘what ifs’—wondering whether, if I hadn’t quit, if I’d started a business with your dad, if I’d been watching him every day, he might never have had the chance to cheat. There’s no point thinking about that now, what’s done is done. I just want to look forward. Your father has wronged me, and he will pay for it.”
It was only in this moment that Qi Xi truly understood her mother’s gentleness. Real gentleness was like reed grass—seemingly soft and delicate, bending in the wind—but it was precisely that flexibility, that ability to adapt to circumstance, that made it unbreakable. No matter how fierce the storm, reed grass, even as it swayed in the wind and rain, never stopped growing, never gave in.
A conviction rose in Qi Xi’s heart.
She and her mother were both people of the law. Those who practiced law shouldn’t quietly swallow injustice—precisely because they were legal professionals, they should fight with everything they had, using everything they’d learned, to protect their own rights and make the wrongdoer in a marriage pay the price.
Whether it was Qi Ruiming or Qi Ruiming’s mistress—neither of them would get away with this.
Qi Xi would never forgive them.
Gu Xuehan had been right—the most direct way to make a man understand the cost of his mistakes was to take his money. A man that selfish and self-serving would only feel real anguish through his wallet.