After another two days of intensive evidence-gathering and interviews, Qi Xi organized everything into a complete file. Only then, using her lunch break, did she arrange for Xi Wen and Gu Yan to sit down together for a proper discussion.

To help her mother feel more at ease, Qi Xi chose a café on the ground floor of the Jinghe building.

Qi Xi and Gu Yan arrived first. Meeting Qi Xi’s family for the first time, Gu Yan seemed remarkably composed—if anything, it was Qi Xi who felt more nervous. “How should I introduce you to my mom, do you think?”

She agonized over how to phrase it, but Gu Yan didn’t seem too concerned. “Just introduce me as your colleague.”

Qi Xi blinked. “But…”

“Qi Xi, this meeting with your mother is happening under urgent circumstances. Right now, the most important thing is making your father pay as much of a price as possible, and protecting your mother’s interests as much as we can. What I’m called to you is secondary. Besides, I’m a little worried—if you introduce me as your boyfriend, your mother might end up questioning my professional credibility. And getting involved in your family’s private affairs as your boyfriend doesn’t feel quite appropriate right now.”

Gu Yan took her hand and smiled. “Right now I’m getting involved as a lawyer. Next time, when I get involved in your life as your boyfriend, you can introduce me to your mom then.”

It would be a lie to say Qi Xi wasn’t moved. Gu Yan always seemed to have a way of surprising her—despite how much he clearly wanted to be introduced to her parents, how much he wanted their approval as a family, right now, when the opportunity had actually arrived, he wasn’t in any hurry at all.

He genuinely put Qi Xi’s needs first, as though she would always hold priority in his heart.

**

Qi Xi’s mother arrived about ten minutes later. Though carefully groomed, the weight of such a devastating blow still showed through in her drawn, exhausted face. And yet none of it could hide Xi Wen’s naturally refined, elegant bearing—she carried the gentle, restrained air of an educated woman.

Once they were all seated, Qi Xi introduced her mother and Gu Yan to each other. Xi Wen’s mood was heavy, and she didn’t bother with much small talk, only offering Gu Yan a brief smile and a word of thanks for the trouble.

Over the past two days, the three of them had each done additional work to supplement the evidence.

Not wanting to waste time, Gu Yan greeted Xi Wen politely and got straight to the point. “Over the past few days, I went through every post on Wang Juan’s Weibo account, from the moment she registered it to now. Beyond that apartment, it looks like Qi Ruiming also bought her a car—a BMW 5 Series. On top of that, there are gifts he’s given her for Valentine’s Day, Christmas, her birthday, and Chinese New Year—designer bags, watches, jewelry.”

As he spoke, Gu Yan pulled out a document. “This is a printed list I compiled by category, with the brand names and official retail prices listed. There are also screenshots from Wang Juan’s Weibo. I’ve preserved all of this as electronic evidence, including screen recordings.”

Qi Xi shared what she’d uncovered over the past two days as well. “I started with Fengling International School’s official account, and in one of their posts about a class event for Grade 2, Class A, I found information about a Wang Qiliang. There really is a child with that name, and by following the trail, I managed to find his photo.”

Qi Xi paused here, pressing her lips together and glancing worriedly at her mother before pulling up the photo on her phone. “Here he is.”

Xi Wen glanced at it, her face pale, and nodded. “That’s the boy I saw.”

They didn’t even need any further substantial evidence—the boy in the photo bore an unmistakable resemblance to Qi Ruiming, and the name itself, with its unmistakable implication, was undeniable proof in its own right.

This truly was the illegitimate child Qi Ruiming had fathered outside his marriage, with Wang Juan, in violation of every basic ethical norm.

Qi Xi’s own expression was grim, but she pressed on, laying out the rest of the evidence. “Just going by what’s been posted on the school’s official account, I was able to work out how many additional extracurricular classes this Wang Qiliang has enrolled in. I’ve also listed out the pricing for each of these programs from the school’s official website. All together, this child’s minimum annual expenses come to roughly three hundred thousand yuan.” She paused. “And that’s not even a complete count.”

With nearly every additional piece of evidence Qi Xi and Gu Yan presented—of Qi Ruiming using marital assets to support a mistress and an illegitimate child on the side—Xi Wen’s face grew paler and paler, until by the end she looked like a leaf trembling, about to fall in the wind.

No matter how strong a woman might be, facing a betrayal of this magnitude was bound to cut to the bone.

“I never imagined your father had already had a change of heart ten years ago. No wonder, despite being so busy, he always claimed he wasn’t making enough money, that the pressure was too much—even though our family’s finances were perfectly stable, he was still working himself to the bone for money.”

Xi Wen’s voice caught with emotion. “I always felt so bad for him, thought he was just too devoted to his career. Only now do I realize—it was all for that younger son of his. Afraid that as he got older he wouldn’t be able to earn enough, and with his son costing him thirty or forty thousand a year in that kind of upbringing, he was working himself to death just to build up a fortune for his son to spend in the future.”

Qi Xi’s mother must have been looking back over everything now, feeling the full weight of regret and self-reproach. She had trusted Qi Ruiming far too much, had thought of him far too generously, held nothing back from him at all—believing she was giving him a kind of freedom born of love, never realizing that love given too freely, without any boundaries, could sometimes become a knife turned back against you.

Qi Xi’s own pain was no less than her mother’s. She finally understood now why her father, who hadn’t seemed to hold her being a girl against her much when she was young, had suddenly, from some point on, started finding fault with her over every little thing—because from the day Wang Qiliang was born, Qi Xi had stopped being Qi Ruiming’s only child, and become instead a fallback option.

“He didn’t want me to study abroad—it wasn’t just to keep the money for his son, it was more about his own self-interest. He wanted me to settle down, find a stable job here in Rong City, marry into a family that could benefit him, so that when he got old, I’d stay close by to take care of him, freeing his son to build his career elsewhere without any burdens holding him back.”

Thinking it through carefully, Qi Ruiming really had planned everything out with perfect clarity—

Xi Wen was the face he presented to the world, a full-time housewife who’d graduated from a prestigious university, someone to manage the household behind the scenes and, eventually, to care for him in old age as his companion. Qi Xi was the daughter he hoped would find a stable job, eventually marry into money and power, and stay in Rong City to look after him in his later years. Wang Juan was the young, beautiful embellishment who added some excitement to his middle-aged life. And his son, Wang Qiliang, was the light of his life, his greatest hope—someone he was willing to spend enormous sums on, sparing no effort, to send abroad for his education and set up for a great future.

Money and freedom, reserved for his son and his mistress. Duty and elder care, left to his wife and daughter.

How could a man in this world be so vile, so selfish?

But this wasn’t the time to dwell only on the pain.

“Auntie Xi, what are you thinking? Have you come to a final decision?”

Gu Yan’s voice pulled Xi Wen back to a state of clarity. She wiped away the tears at the corners of her eyes, but her voice came out firm and decisive. “I want a divorce. First, I want the marital assets divided in a way that gives me as much as possible. Second, I want to recover the unjust gains that mistress, Wang Juan, received from Qi Ruiming during our marriage.”

Based on the current evidence, recovering the money Qi Ruiming had transferred to Wang Juan through WeChat, as well as the property, was likely feasible. But the jewelry, designer bags, and other items Gu Yan had documented—since their individual values weren’t as large as the property, not so large that Wang Juan couldn’t plausibly have afforded them herself—it would be hard to prove, the way they could with the property, that these gifts represented marital assets Qi Ruiming had secretly diverted and given away. That made it unlikely they could successfully petition the court to help trace the source of those funds. What’s more, Qi Ruiming likely hadn’t transferred money directly to Wang Juan to let her buy these items herself—more likely, just as with the Hermès bag, he’d purchased them himself and then given them to her, which would make it even harder to prove that particular Hermès bag was the very one Qi Ruiming had bought.

And then there was…

“And then there’s the jointly-owned marital property registered under both your name and his. Even once we can prove he had an affair, in a divorce settlement the court will only lean somewhat in your favor—and since you’re a full-time housewife with essentially no income during the marriage, while he’s been the primary earner of the marital assets, even if the judge is inclined to protect you, they won’t be able to tilt the ratio very far in your favor…”

It was tragic, really—even as society had begun to respect and praise full-time housewives, to recognize their contributions and even encourage women to become them, the law itself offered no corresponding protection for that role at all.

Qi Xi had always deeply respected her mother, had always been grateful for everything she’d given to the family over the years, and had never once questioned her decision to become a full-time housewife. But in this moment, she couldn’t help feeling a wave of sorrow on her mother’s behalf.

The legal protections a woman received through the piece of paper called a marriage certificate could sometimes fall short of what she’d get from an open-ended employment contract.

Being a full-time housewife was never a position with lifetime security. In many ways, the women who chose it faced the same challenges as women who kept working outside the home—except that a housewife’s “boss” was her husband, switching jobs was far harder, there was no mandatory social insurance contribution, and if she were ever “fired,” there wasn’t necessarily even severance pay. And just like any other position, no matter how good the role or the boss, there would always be someone younger, with better credentials, looking to replace you.

To hold a secure position as a full-time housewife might actually require just as much effort as becoming a female executive—you’d need irreplaceable skills the market couldn’t match, cost-effectiveness, and you’d need to tie yourself as closely as possible to your boss’s (your husband’s) career, keeping a close eye on the flow of money and investment decisions within the company (the family), making sure that if the boss (your husband) ever tried to cut ties, it would come at a heavy financial cost to him.

No one can guarantee another person’s heart will never change. So when you can’t hold onto someone’s heart, at least you can hold onto the money.

For the portion of money Qi Ruiming had given Wang Juan during the marriage, there was at least evidence available, or grounds to petition the court to subpoena Qi Ruiming’s bank records to recover it. But the biggest problem now was still the legally jointly-owned marital assets between Qi Ruiming and Xi Wen.

Xi Wen had clearly done some homework of her own over the past two days—she’d already put together a list of assets jointly owned with Qi Ruiming. Besides the home they currently lived in, she and Qi Ruiming also owned a large flat, a commercial storefront, and had invested in a small villa in a neighboring city near Rong City.

“Besides these major assets, there’s also the matter of the cars—we each have one registered under our own name, so those can just be split according to registered ownership at the time of divorce. As for the money in the bank accounts, that can be documented at the same time we petition the court to obtain Qi Ruiming’s transaction records. It’s just…”

Qi Xi knew exactly what her mother was hesitating over.

No matter how you looked at it, Qi Ruiming and Xi Wen’s marriage had lasted far longer than his affair with Wang Juan—Wang Juan had only started reaping continuous financial benefits from Qi Ruiming about ten years ago, once her status improved through having his son. But before that son existed, before there was any betrayal, the money Qi Ruiming earned had still gone into becoming shared marital property.

So put simply, even if Xi Wen could recover part of what Wang Juan had unjustly gained, if Qi Ruiming decided to fight tooth and nail for his son’s sake, using every means available to secure his share of the legal marital assets, Xi Wen wouldn’t necessarily have the upper hand—the larger portion of the marital property would very likely still end up going to Qi Ruiming.

And even though Xi Wen had genuinely given so much to this family, and even though courts now do recognize compensation for domestic labor, current case precedents—even in economically developed regions—showed that such compensation amounts remained pitifully small.

“There’s another issue too. In most divorce cases involving property, if one party keeps the property, they generally need to pay the other party cash equivalent to their share. With this many properties, there’s no way your father won’t end up with a share of at least one of them. So if you want to keep the properties, Ms. Xi, you’d likely need to pay him cash according to the court-determined division ratio, and that could add up to a significant sum.”

Gu Yan paused, then continued. “Unless it’s clearly worked out in advance which properties go to you and which go to him—but he might not agree to that kind of split either. He could easily insist on claiming a percentage of every single property, ultimately forcing you, if you can’t come up with enough cash, to give up the property altogether and just take the money instead. But given Rong City’s current housing prices, if you end up taking cash instead of property, the amount you’d receive likely wouldn’t be enough to buy a comparable new home—certainly not one with the same value for money as what you currently have…”

Up to this point, Qi Xi had been completely immersed in the adrenaline-fueled momentum of gathering evidence, and through sheer determination had gotten a fairly clear picture of her father’s situation outside the marriage. But Gu Yan’s words abruptly cooled that momentum entirely.

That’s right—there was still the matter of the jointly-owned assets. Though Qi Xi already had evidence that could help recover the property Qi Ruiming had secretly transferred to his mistress, compared to the far larger marital assets at stake in the divorce, that would be like gaining a sesame seed while losing an entire watermelon.

Xi Wen had clearly already come to the same realization, her brow furrowed deeply. “He’s a lawyer himself. After all these years in practice, he’s far more experienced than me—that’s exactly how he managed to keep this hidden for ten whole years without a single slip. Once I confront him directly, he’ll know full well that the law doesn’t come down that harshly on people who commit adultery, and he’ll know exactly how to exploit every loophole…”

It was only now, walking through the practical realities of divorce step by step, that Qi Xi finally, belatedly, understood why Chen Xiang had ultimately chosen not to divorce—she had given so much to Ai Xiang, and whatever portion the property division could offer her in a divorce, even if Ai Xiang claimed to be making concessions, that man had almost certainly already transferred and hidden away a large portion of the assets. The division on offer simply wasn’t enough to offset her sunk costs, her anger, her pain—which was why she’d refused the divorce in the end.

But perhaps Chen Xiang could still tolerate that marriage. For Xi Wen, that was completely out of the question.

“It’s not just emotional—it’s legal too. I can’t accept it. I simply can’t.” Xi Wen’s voice was resolute and firm. “He has an illegitimate son. Even if I don’t divorce him, suppose one day he suddenly dies—even without a will leaving anything to that child, that illegitimate son would still have a legal right to inherit. Within every piece of jointly-owned marital property, his share would include a portion for that child. I might end up having to co-own a property with his illegitimate son—having to negotiate with both the child and the mistress over how to eventually deal with that property. I cannot accept that happening. It’s disgusting.”

Not to mention, given how severely Qi Ruiming favored sons over daughters, it was entirely possible he’d already, without either Qi Xi or Xi Wen knowing, drawn up a will designating that illegitimate son as the sole heir to his entire share of the marital assets.

This left them at an impasse.

If they went to litigation, based on the current evidence and the law, Xi Wen wouldn’t come out particularly ahead. But if they skipped litigation entirely and went straight to a negotiated, mutual-consent divorce, that would require sitting down and negotiating directly with Qi Ruiming—and Qi Ruiming made his living as a lawyer. Could he really lose out in a negotiation?

The atmosphere in the room grew heavy. Gu Yan tried to lift Qi Xi’s spirits a little. “Maybe once you lay all the evidence out for him, your father will feel ashamed enough to make concessions on the property, to make up for what Auntie Xi has lost. Try not to feel so weighed down by this just yet.”

But neither Qi Xi nor Xi Wen believed that for a second—and honestly, Gu Yan himself probably didn’t believe it either, as he said it. If Qi Ruiming were capable of that kind of shame, he never would have hurt Xi Wen this badly in the first place.

Qi Xi had already seen, in verdicts and case precedents, just how shameless men could become once things fell apart in a divorce. Once people shed the image they’d carefully cultivated for the outside world, all that remained was naked self-interest.

It was only now that Xi Wen, too, found herself struggling to hold back a wave of regret. “Xixi, you’re right. I really shouldn’t have spent all these years being nothing but a full-time housewife…”

“Mom, you don’t need to punish yourself for his mistakes. A man determined to cheat will cheat, no matter how outstanding his wife is. A man determined to secretly transfer and hide marital assets will find a way to do it, whether his wife is a full-time housewife or not—especially since he’s a lawyer himself, and given how his methods have never exactly been above board even in his own cases, I imagine his tactics for something like this are even dirtier.”

Even as she said this to comfort her mother, Qi Xi’s mind was reeling. Qi Ruiming had had that precious son ten years ago—meaning he’d been planning that child’s future, and moving marital assets, for a full decade. Even if he’d done it in small increments, like ants carrying grain, he was a professional, and his methods were likely clean and efficient. A process spanning that long would also mean evidence had been lost, and gathering proof would be extremely difficult. Even though they’d managed to trace the apartment Wang Juan lived in, that was probably only the tip of the iceberg of everything he’d diverted.

Gu Yan’s thinking clearly ran along the same lines as Qi Xi’s. “Is it possible he’s invested in other properties elsewhere too, but had someone else hold them on his behalf? The rest of the properties might not necessarily be under Wang Juan’s name at all—think about it from his perspective, what he cares about most is his son. Given how much he favors sons over daughters, he doesn’t genuinely respect women at all—Wang Juan only got all these benefits because she was the vessel that produced his son.”

Qi Xi nodded. “That’s right. He’s not stupid—he must understand perfectly well why Wang Juan got involved with him in the first place. A man like him, inherently selfish and suspicious, wouldn’t just guard against my mom and me—he’d guard against Wang Juan too. He’s so much older than her, after all, and under normal circumstances he’ll die before she does. If all the properties were under her name, once he died, she could remarry some other man, start a new family with new children, and not only fail to take care of his son properly, but potentially even seize the assets he’d meant to leave for the boy. So it’s very likely there are other properties out there, held by someone he trusts more than her.”

But without solid leads, there was really no way to trace these properties, since Qi Xi and Xi Wen didn’t even know who else, besides Wang Juan, Qi Ruiming might have used as a nominee holder. At least with Wang Juan’s property, they could use the specific, symbolically loaded amounts of the WeChat transfers as evidence of an improper relationship—but any large transfers between Qi Ruiming and other relatives could easily be explained away as ordinary transactions, or loan repayments, or the like…

Which meant, ironically, that Qi Ruiming still held the upper hand in this whole situation.