The Mother-in-Law’s Secret

That day, I only went home to grab something, but what I stumbled upon has haunted me ever since. The moment I stepped inside, I heard a man’s voice coming from my mother-in-law’s room—low, unfamiliar, and completely out of place.

Driven by instinct, I moved closer, holding my breath. What I heard next stopped me cold: soft, uneven breathing, the unmistakable sound of two people caught in an intimate moment. The air felt heavy, suffocating, and my ears burned with embarrassment. My heart pounded erratically, as though trying to escape my chest. For a moment, I couldn’t move—my body felt paralyzed by shock, my legs too weak to hold me up.

Without thinking, I spun around and bolted, my steps clumsy and frantic. It felt as if something unseen was chasing me out, the walls of the house closing in behind me.

Since that moment, everything has changed. That secret—so shameful I can’t even put it into words—has gnawed at me, unraveling the life I thought I knew. My wife began acting differently, her behavior shifting in subtle but undeniable ways. From that day on, it was as if my world was slowly crumbling, breaking apart piece by excruciating piece.

In my second year of work, life dealt me my first major blow—my parents died in a car accident. The driver at fault was barely scraping by, and the compensation he offered was pitiful. My parents had been simple farmers who’d never saved much, leaving behind only a modest, self-built house in the countryside.

But life doesn’t stop for grief. I gritted my teeth, pulled together what little savings I had, and added the compensation money to scrape together a down payment for a tiny two-bedroom apartment in the city.

A year later, after throwing myself into work and earning recognition, I was promoted to a junior managerial role. The slight pay raise felt like a small but meaningful step forward. Around the same time, I was introduced to Chen Qian through a mutual friend. Her gentle, kind nature made me feel, for the first time in a while, that there was hope for the future. After six months of dating, we registered our marriage.

Not long after the wedding, Chen Qian became pregnant. Work only got busier for me, and I barely had time to take care of her. Thankfully, my mother-in-law offered to move in and help. I was beyond grateful and left the household entirely in her hands. With her support, everything finally felt stable, and I was free to focus on my career.

Before I knew it, our daughter was five years old. Life seemed peaceful—happy, even—until one day, everything quietly began to fall apart.

That afternoon, I wasn’t supposed to come home, but I urgently needed a document I’d left behind. I rushed back, unlocked the door, and stepped into an empty living room. Assuming my mother-in-law wasn’t home, I headed straight for the bedroom.

But as I passed her room, I froze in my tracks. A man’s voice—deep and unfamiliar—filtered through the door, slightly ajar.

Could it be my father-in-law? No, that didn’t make sense. Just this morning, he’d sent a video of himself eating lunch at the factory. Whoever was in that room wasn’t him. Curiosity surged through me, and before I could stop myself, I leaned closer, pressing my ear to the door.

“You’re amazing,” the woman said, her voice light and teasing.

“Better than your husband?” the man asked smugly.

“Of course you are. Why else would I keep coming back to you all these years?”

Then came the unmistakable sounds of intimacy. My ears burned, and my chest tightened with disgust. A strange man—here, in my house—with my mother-in-law.

The more I processed what I was hearing, the worse it got. This wasn’t a one-time thing. Their conversation made that painfully clear. My mother-in-law, always so composed and kind in front of others, had been living a lie. I thought of my father-in-law, working tirelessly to provide for his family, while she betrayed him like this. My chest swelled with helpless anger.

As I stood there, paralyzed and unsure of what to do, the broom leaning against the wall suddenly toppled over with a loud clatter.

“Li, did you hear that?” the woman’s voice called, sharp with alarm.

Crap!

My heart pounded as I tiptoed out of the house as quickly and quietly as I could. Only when I reached the stairwell did I exhale, shaky and panicked. My thoughts were a tangled mess. They’d mentioned “Li,” but my father-in-law’s last name was Chen. Whoever this man was, he definitely wasn’t family.

What now? Should I tell my wife?

If I stayed silent, I’d be betraying my father-in-law. But if I spoke up, it would destroy my wife’s family—and I’d end up caught in the middle, blamed by everyone. After agonizing over it, I decided to keep my mouth shut. Silently, I grieved for my father-in-law.

But just as I began to calm down, another thought hit me. That morning, I’d casually mentioned to my wife that I’d be coming home to grab a document. What if she mentioned it to my mother-in-law? If my mother-in-law realized I’d been home, what would she do?

I wanted to call my wife and warn her, but I was worried it would make me seem suspicious. For a moment, I just stood there, frozen by indecision. How was I supposed to handle this? On top of that, some neighbors had seen me enter the building earlier. I needed to find a way to make it look like I hadn’t gone inside at all.

I hurried downstairs, trying to avoid staying in the stairwell too long. Just as I reached the ground floor, I ran into one of the building’s nosiest neighbors, an elderly woman with a knack for prying into other people’s business.

“Hetao, why are you leaving so soon after coming back?” she asked, her sharp eyes glinting with curiosity. Her tone suggested she thought she’d caught me doing something suspicious.

My stomach dropped, but I forced a casual smile. “Oh, Auntie, have you seen my mother-in-law? I forgot my keys and knocked for ages, but no one answered.”

“Hmm, she’s probably out at the market,” she replied, clearly disappointed by my explanation.

“Ah, I see. Well, I’m heading back to work. Busy day!” I waved and walked out of the complex, pretending to be in a rush. Only when I was far away did I finally let out a sigh of relief.

But my relief was short-lived. The thought of facing my mother-in-law later that evening made my stomach churn. It felt like I was dangling over a cliff, unable to find solid ground.

That day at work, I couldn’t focus at all. My thoughts kept spiraling back to the scene I’d stumbled upon, replaying it over and over in my mind.

That evening, I stood at my front door, took a deep breath, and willed myself to stay calm before knocking. My wife answered quickly. Inside, my mother-in-law was bustling around in the kitchen. But the moment she saw me step in, the spatula in her hand froze mid-air.

A pang of unease hit me. Did she suspect something?

“Why didn’t you just use your key? Do you have to wait for me to open the door every time?” my wife asked, her tone mildly annoyed.

“Ah, couldn’t find it,” I lied, forcing a casual shrug. As soon as she turned and walked toward the living room, I slipped into the bedroom and discreetly shoved the key into the gap beneath the bed.

“What are you doing?” Her voice suddenly came from the doorway, making me jump. My heart raced as I spun around.

“Nothing, just looking for my key,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. I pretended to rummage around, opening drawers and letting out an exaggerated sigh.

“What’s with the sigh?” she asked, sitting down on the bed with her phone in hand. Her tone had an edge of suspicion.

“Ah, I forgot to bring a file to work today, and my boss tore into me. I’m worried it might mess up my raise next month,” I said, steering the conversation in a different direction.

Her expression immediately softened, and she sat up straighter. “A raise?” Her eyes lit up with excitement. “Wait—wasn’t Mom home? Why didn’t she open the door for you?”

“I don’t think she was here. I knocked for ages, but no one answered,” I said, still faking my search as I opened the nightstand drawer, sneaking glances at her.

“Then why didn’t you call her? What if this messes up your raise?” she asked, irritation creeping into her voice. She even set her phone down—something that rarely happened.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and held it up. “Look, today’s been a total disaster. Even my phone’s broken.” I showed her the cracked screen, shards of glass barely holding together. Luckily, it was an ancient phone I’d been meaning to replace anyway.

“Alright, fine,” she said with a sigh, her tone softening as she knelt down to help me search. Watching her crawl around on the floor so earnestly filled me with a wave of warmth. She really was amazing.

“Got it!” she exclaimed triumphantly, pulling the key from under the bed and holding it out to me. It was coated in dust.

“You’re incredible. I couldn’t find it no matter how hard I tried.” I grinned, taking the key and slipping an arm around her waist, giving her a playful squeeze.

“Stop it~” she whined, swatting at me with a grin that sent a pleasant jolt through my chest. But then the events of earlier in the day came rushing back, souring my mood and making my stomach churn.

Thankfully, my mother-in-law’s voice called out from the kitchen, “Dinner’s ready!” The interruption couldn’t have been better timed. Any longer, and my shift in mood might have given me away.

At the dinner table, I couldn’t help noticing something off about my mother-in-law. She was quiet but unusually sharp, as if she were carefully probing the air. Sure enough, she spoke up casually while holding her bowl, “Hetao, Mrs. Wang downstairs said she saw you come home around noon. Funny—I didn’t see you.”

There it was. The moment I’d been bracing for.

“Oh, yeah. I didn’t have my key, so I knocked for a bit, but no one answered. I figured you were out shopping, so I left,” I said, keeping my tone light as I popped a piece of food into my mouth. “Mrs. Wang mentioned you might’ve gone to the market. I was in a rush to get back to work, so I didn’t wait.”

“Oh, I see. I was at the market around that time,” she said, her voice carrying a faint note of doubt. Then, after a pause, she added, “But why didn’t you just call me? I could’ve come back.”

“Mom, that’s enough! Hetao’s phone broke today. He even got chewed out by his boss over some files. It might affect his raise!” my wife cut in, swooping to my rescue like a guardian angel. A perfect save.

“Really? That bad?” my mother-in-law said, her brows furrowing in concern as she set her bowl down. “Oh dear, this is all my fault.”

“No, Mrs. Chen, it’s not your fault. It’s on me for forgetting my key,” I said quickly, offering her a reassuring smile. “I’ll make up for it at work. It’ll be fine.”

But as I studied her face, I knew this wasn’t over.

Later that evening, after my wife went to shower and my daughter was glued to cartoons on the couch, my mother-in-law slowly approached me. She rarely spoke to me unless necessary, and her deliberate movements instantly put me on high alert.

The moment I saw her, snippets of the conversations I’d overheard earlier in the day replayed in my mind, each one more unsettling than the last. A wave of nausea rolled over me, but I forced my expression to stay neutral, keeping up the act of cluelessness.

After my mother-in-law sat down, she fixed me with a sharp, probing look, as if trying to read something in my face.

“Mrs. Chen, want some grapes? They’re really sweet. I’ll wash some for you,” I offered, forcing a smile to lighten the mood.

“No, thank you,” she replied, shaking her head. Her tone was flat, but her gaze never left me. “What time did you get home today?”

Here it comes. I knew this moment was coming.

“I’m not sure, exactly.” I tried to sound casual. “I finished work at 11:30. It takes about 20 minutes to get home, so I must’ve arrived around noon.”

I purposely pushed the time a bit earlier by 15 minutes. By then, she and that man were probably just getting started. My mother-in-law’s room was deep inside the house, far from the door, so it made sense that she hadn’t heard me knocking.

“Mm-hmm…” Her expression tightened slightly, and she opened her mouth, as if about to speak, but then hesitated. Her pause made my stomach tighten.

Clearly, she wasn’t fully convinced. But as long as I didn’t slip up, I knew there was nothing she could do. I had to keep my cool.

“Mrs. Chen, I’m going to play with Doudou for a bit. You should rest—taking care of her all day must have been exhausting.” I seized the opportunity to escape, standing up. But just as I was about to leave, my mother-in-law called after me.

“Don’t rush. Doudou can entertain herself for a while. Stay and chat with me.”

I froze. Chat? Was she planning to confront me?

“Uh, okay.” I took a deep breath and sat back down, pretending to be calm.

What followed completely threw me off guard. Instead of addressing the events of the day, my mother-in-law started pouring out her frustrations.

She told me that after giving birth to my wife, my father-in-law and her in-laws had only given her two weeks to rest before pushing her to go back to work. No one helped her with the baby, so she hadn’t fully recovered. Later, she had trouble conceiving a second child.

But that wasn’t the worst of it. My father-in-law began criticizing her, calling her a useless hen who couldn’t even give him a son. He even pressured her to divorce him, claiming the Chen family name would die with her.

“Back then, divorce was considered shameful,” she sighed, her eyes misting slightly. “If I’d gotten divorced and had to raise a child on my own, I wouldn’t have had any future.”

She went on, saying it might’ve been karma. Soon after, my father-in-law had an accident at work and ended up seriously injured. The divorce talk was never brought up again.

I felt a strange mix of emotions. Despite what had happened earlier that day, I couldn’t help but feel some sympathy for my mother-in-law.

“Mrs. Chen, don’t be upset,” I moved closer and sat down next to her. My voice softened with genuine concern. “You’ve been through so much. From now on, Chenqian(her daughter) and I will make sure you’re well taken care of, and you can enjoy the comfort you deserve.”

At my words, her expression visibly softened. I had to admit, her sympathy card had worked. It even changed the way I saw her, just a little.

Now that I thought about it, my father-in-law had always been harsh with her, acting as though his salary gave him some sort of superiority. He never helped with the housework, and his tone was always condescending.

I offered her a few more reassuring words, my tone more sincere now.

Seeing how serious I was, my mother-in-law seemed to believe my words were from the heart. She finally stood up, looking satisfied, and went to join Doudou.

As I watched her walk away, I let out a long sigh of relief. Finally, that was over.

But even so, I couldn’t shake the thought: After this, would my mother-in-law be a little more cautious?

A week later, my mother-in-law unexpectedly went back to her hometown. I had just come home from work, changed my shoes, and was about to go hug my daughter when my wife grabbed my arm, pulling me into the room. Without warning, she started grilling me. “Did you say something to my mom that night? You didn’t have your keys—why are you blaming her?”

I was stunned, completely thrown off guard. “Honey, I didn’t say anything. Why would I blame your mother?”

“Then why did she lock herself in her room crying? She won’t tell me what happened. I saw you two talking in the living room that night—who else could’ve made her cry if not you?”

“I swear, I didn’t blame her.”

“Hmph! When you had nothing, my mom never complained. She didn’t even ask for much for the bride price, and now you’re treating her like this? How could you do that to her?”

Her eyes were full of reproach, her tone sharp and accusatory. Watching her side so completely with her mom made a strange, tight feeling rise in my chest. After all these years of treating her so well, she always chose to believe her mom, never once giving me the benefit of the doubt.

Is this my home too, or is it just theirs?

Seeing me silent only made my wife angrier. “These past few days, I saw my mom crying in secret again. Today, she left and went back to her hometown. It’s not even a holiday—why would she leave like that? She’s been helping us with Doudou. Could you even focus on your work without her? You’re so heartless!”

“Sweetie, I swear, I didn’t do anything!” I pleaded, desperate to explain, but she wouldn’t listen.

Seeing her so angry, stomping her foot in frustration, I didn’t have time to wonder what my mother-in-law had told her. For Doudou’s sake, for the sake of our family, I rushed over and hugged her. “Baby, after all these years, don’t you know me? I’ve never spoken a harsh word to you, let alone to Mom. I don’t argue with anyone, even outside, so why would I say something hurtful to her?”

“Hmph! You’ll never admit it.” She yanked my arm away and stormed toward the living room.

I quickly followed, trying to calm her down like I always did. I made her a cup of tea, rubbed her shoulders, and even cooked her favorite dish. Finally, I sent her a ¥999.00 red envelope, and that’s when I saw the faintest smile return to her face.

After dinner, I went to the bedroom to grab my clothes for a shower. As I was heading to the bathroom, I casually asked, “Honey, why are you showering so early today?”

She usually showers after dinner, and it was still just barely past six. She picked up her phone from the nightstand, pausing for a moment, but her expression remained unreadable. Without looking up, she replied, “Doudou got my clothes dirty, so I just took a shower.” Then, as she walked out, she added, “I’m going to play with Doudou. I’ll sleep with her tonight, not with you.”

“Honey, why don’t you come to me after Doudou falls asleep?” I called after her, walking quickly to catch up. I gently hugged her from behind, nuzzling my face into her neck, trying to be playful. But she quickly pulled away, frowning as she replied, “I’m not comfortable leaving Doudou to sleep alone. Are you okay with that?”

She pushed me away and walked off, leaving me standing there, frozen. I felt an inexplicable heaviness in my chest. Even if I were careless, I couldn’t have missed these small details.

She used to always say that if she’d just applied her skincare, I’d ruin it by getting too close, that it was too expensive to waste. But now, even though plenty of time had passed and the products must’ve dried, she was deliberately avoiding me. The thought made my chest tighten, a vague discomfort settling in.

After my shower, I walked into the room to find my wife playing with our daughter. Our daughter was focused on putting together blocks, while my wife was looking down at her phone, occasionally chuckling. I tossed my dirty clothes into the washing machine, but after searching for a bit, I realized I couldn’t find hers. Her clothes were supposed to be in the laundry basket—where had they gone?

I walked to the doorway and asked, “Where are your dirty clothes?”

Without lifting her head, she casually replied, “Oh, they got stained with oil and I couldn’t get it out, so I just threw them away.”

Threw them away? I frowned, suddenly remembering a particular shirt. That time, her clothes had a strong smell of smoke. I don’t smoke, and she wouldn’t have encountered that kind of smell at the kindergarten. Where had it come from?

The thought of my mother-in-law’s affair gnawed at me, stirring up doubt. It crept into my mind like a vine, winding its way through my thoughts.

I walked over to our daughter, gently picking her up, trying to keep my voice soft. “Doudou, did you get Mommy’s clothes dirty today?”

She glanced at me, then at my wife, but didn’t say a word. I noticed my wife’s expression freeze for a moment. She quickly turned off her phone screen and placed it face down on the bed.

“He Tao, what’s going on?” She stood up, her voice tinged with anxiety. “You don’t trust me?”

I kept my attention on the blocks our daughter was playing with, not turning to look at her. My tone was colder than usual. “I’m just asking. Why are you so nervous?”

Don’t trust her? Honestly, in some ways, I was starting to feel that way.

My wife is beautiful and has a great figure. Back when we were dating, there was a long line of guys after her. I may be good-looking too, a tall guy at 6 feet, but my family background was much humbler. No parental support, no car, and a mortgage to pay. So when my mother-in-law agreed to let me marry her, I was genuinely surprised—and deeply grateful.

We’d only been married for a few weeks when my wife found out she was pregnant. Unfortunately, we lost the baby.

That loss weighed on me, and I’ve always felt guilty about it. So, whether it was big or small, I tried my best to make her life easier, to give her whatever I could. Thankfully, she was considerate of me too. Our life together may have been simple, but it was sweet.

But lately, I’ve started to feel like something’s changed. Maybe it’s been going on for a while, but I didn’t notice because I was blinded by love.

The other day, my wife saw me sitting quietly and got upset, shouting, “Look at your face! You don’t even have to say anything—I know exactly what you’re thinking!”

I looked up at her and said calmly, “What am I thinking? You tell me.”

“Your clothes have smelled like smoke several times now. What else am I supposed to think?” Her voice rose. “Do any of the teachers at your kindergarten smoke?”

I usually let things slide, but this time, I couldn’t hold back. “There’s been a huge project at work, and I’m one of the leads. The pressure’s been so bad I can barely breathe. Then I come home to cook, clean, and do laundry—it’s fine, I’m a man, I can take it. But you? You don’t try to understand. You immediately start questioning me because of your mom. Have you ever trusted me?”

“Now this… you bring up this confusing situation. How can I not doubt you?”

Her eyes filled with tears. “He Tao, you have no heart! So many guys who were better than you tried to date me, but I turned them down! I chose to marry you, and now you’re doubting me?” She turned away mid-sentence, her shoulders trembling as she cried.

At that moment, our daughter, startled by our argument, began to cry as well. She clutched her blocks, tears streaming down her face. “Daddy, Mommy, don’t fight…”

Seeing her like that broke my heart. I rushed over, scooped her up, and gently patted her back, trying to calm her. “Mommy and Daddy aren’t fighting, sweetheart. We were just talking loudly. It’s okay, everything’s fine.”

This time, I was more forceful than usual, my tone cold enough to make it clear I wasn’t willing to argue any further. My wife finally softened, leaning in slowly to hug me, her voice gentle, almost apologetic. “Honey, please don’t be mad… The smoke smell on my clothes was from some of the dads picking up their kids. I didn’t want you to overthink it, so I didn’t mention it.”

I didn’t respond, just kept my gaze fixed on her in silence.

“I know you’ve been under a lot of stress lately, and your shoulders must be sore, right? I’ve been learning a little about massage. Let me give you one tonight, okay?” She took my hand, her voice soft as she added, “You’ve been working so hard. I promise I’ll be more careful from now on, and I’ll tell you everything.”

Seeing her make such an effort to soothe me, my anger began to fade. I glanced down at my wife and daughter, both nestled against me, and a mix of emotions stirred within me. Family fights happen; it’s part of life. As long as it’s not something crucial, there’s no point in making a bigger deal out of it than necessary.

But even so, whenever I thought about that shirt—the one she claimed had been “stained and thrown away”—it felt like there was a thorn lodged in my heart. It wasn’t sharp enough to hurt all the time, but it lingered, poking at me when I least expected it, stopping me from truly letting go.

On the weekend, my wife and I decided to take our daughter to the zoo, hoping to make up for the time we’d been neglecting her lately. As we stepped outside, we ran into a group of elderly neighbors basking in the sun with their grandkids.

One of the women, wearing a floral dress, spotted us and called out brightly, “Where are you off to?”

“We’re taking the kids to the zoo,” my wife answered politely, but I wasn’t in the mood for small talk. I knew better than to engage with these women—too much gossip, too many rumors. I just wanted to keep moving.

But when we reached the entrance to the neighborhood, I realized we’d forgotten our daughter’s water bottle, so I turned back to grab it.

As I walked through the community square, I overheard the group of women gossiping loudly.

“Did you hear? Chen’s son-in-law hit his wife!”

“Was it the guy who just walked by? The one named He Tao? He seemed so polite. The couple always looked so happy together.”

“That’s just a front! Who knows what goes on behind closed doors? You can never tell with men like him.”

“Exactly! The quieter they seem, the worse they are when no one’s looking!”

Chen’s family… a guy named He Tao… Were they talking about me?

I froze, a surge of anger rising within me. What ridiculous rumors! I marched over to them and stood directly in front.

“Ladies, who told you this? When did I ever hit my wife?”

The women hesitated for a moment when they saw me, clearly caught off guard. But they quickly regained their usual boldness.

“We’re just repeating what we heard. Don’t ask us.”

“Who told you? Take me to them so I can confront them.”

At my words, several of the women began to look uncomfortable. They weren’t used to being confronted head-on like this.

But the woman in the floral dress didn’t flinch. She sneered, “Why would people be talking about you if nothing was wrong?”

“I’m telling you—spreading rumors is illegal. If you don’t clear this up right now, I’ll call the police.”

The moment I mentioned “police,” I saw a flicker of panic in her eyes, but she quickly grabbed her chest and collapsed onto the ground, feigning a dramatic faint. “Oh! My chest hurts! You’re trying to kill me, a poor old woman!”

I stood there, stunned. I never imagined she would go this far with her antics.

Seeing things getting out of hand, a few of the other women quickly stepped in to try to calm the situation. “Oh, come on, Mr. He, don’t be upset. We were just repeating what we heard. It might not even be true.”

They were clearly afraid things were escalating, and I might actually go through with calling the police. But looking at the woman on the ground, making a scene, I felt a wave of frustration and helplessness wash over me. In the end, I could only swallow my anger and walk away.

When I got home, my wife and daughter were changing, getting ready to head out. I looked at my wife, and for a moment, I considered telling her what had happened, about discovering who had been spreading those rumors. But as the words formed, something stopped me, and I swallowed them back down.

After spending the day with my daughter, playing and laughing, the anger and frustration that had been building up inside me began to fade. As we neared home, my daughter complained of a stomach ache, so my wife took her to the bathroom while I waited by the door, tidying up my things.

While searching through my bag for my phone, I noticed my wife’s phone light up with a WeChat message. I glanced over instinctively, seeing that her phone was on silent, and the WeChat app was locked. I couldn’t make out the message, but before I could think twice, another message popped up. A sense of unease began to creep into my chest.

I hesitated, my mind racing with all the strange things that had been happening recently. Finally, unable to resist, I typed in the password. My wife always thought I didn’t know it, but one time, I had caught a glimpse when she unlocked it. I memorized it then, though I had never used it until now.

When the WeChat app opened, my breath caught in my throat.

“Baby, when are you going to divorce your husband? I can’t wait any longer [kiss].”

Reading that message was like a lightning bolt to my chest. I froze, my hand hovering over the phone, unable to move. Before I could scroll further, my wife and daughter came out of the bathroom. I quickly closed the WeChat app and shoved the phone back into my bag, pretending to check my own phone.

“What are you doing?” she asked, a hint of nervousness in her voice as she took the bag from me.

“Just replying to a message. Nothing. Let’s go,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. I scooped up our daughter and started walking, though inside, my emotions were in turmoil—anger, betrayal, and sadness crashing over me.

As we walked, I noticed my wife smiling at her phone now and then. I used to think she was just reading something funny, but now, it was like I was seeing everything with new eyes. The woman I thought loved me had been cheating. All those little things that had made me uneasy? They were all true.

When we got home, my mother-in-law had returned from her hometown and was out for a walk with my wife and daughter. I used work as an excuse to stay behind in the study.

Alone in the study, my mind was a mess. All the moments of our relationship—the little details from our dating days to our marriage—replayed in my mind. I couldn’t stop wondering, had I done something wrong? Had I failed her in some way that made her betray me?

From the start of our relationship, I’d never missed a single holiday gift. After we married, I handed her my salary card—apart from the mortgage and daily expenses, I didn’t keep a penny for myself. I handled the household tasks, or if I couldn’t, my mother-in-law helped out. My wife never had to worry about anything. No matter how angry she got, I swallowed my pride and soothed her, even when she was being unreasonable.

For years, I’d given everything to this family. What more could she possibly want?

As these thoughts swirled in my mind, a wave of anger and sorrow washed over me. I had wanted to give her a chance, but when my eyes landed on the phone charging in the living room, I couldn’t hold back anymore.

I stood up, walked to the door, locked it, and without hesitation, grabbed her phone and opened WeChat.

There it was, the conversation with the other man, right at the top, obvious and glaring.

The chat history only went back a few days, but there were already hundreds of messages. The content was graphic, painful to read. From “I miss you” to the most degrading remarks, each message felt like a knife piercing my heart.

I scrolled down to the one about divorce: “Baby, when are you going to divorce your husband? I can’t wait any longer.”

Her reply: “Don’t rush, I’m getting everything ready. My mom’s helping me. It’ll be soon.”

The next messages sank me deeper into despair:

“Mrs Chen is so nice. I had a friend bring back some skincare from abroad. I’ll give it to her in a few days. I’ll make sure your mom enjoys herself from now on.”

“Qianqian, I can’t live without you. I love everything about you.”

“So big and soft…”

A bitter laugh escaped me, and my heart sank further.

My mother-in-law was involved too, helping her plan everything. The woman who had always said she didn’t want me to be stressed had been helping destroy this family.

The rumors circulating in the neighborhood about me “beating my wife” were growing increasingly absurd, and it was clear my mother-in-law was behind them. They were probably gearing up for a divorce and the division of assets—but there was an even darker conspiracy behind all of this.

Realizing how serious things were, I quickly composed myself and decided to gather evidence. I scrolled through my wife and mother-in-law’s chat history, taking screenshots of all the key conversations. Once I finished, the anger and frustration that had been building up inside me made me shake. I needed to vent before I could even think about calming down.

For the sake of my daughter, I had to stay composed. From that point on, all I could do was lie low and wait for them to slip up again.

Sure enough, just a few days later, the rumors about my “domestic violence” spread like wildfire. Every time I left or returned home, my neighbors eyed me with disdain and suspicion. Some even openly pointed at me. A cold shiver ran down my spine.

Even if it was proven that my wife had cheated, if the “domestic violence” accusations stuck, I would still be seen as the guilty party in the marriage. That meant she’d likely get the house and everything else. And this house—the down payment was mine, I paid the mortgage, and I never hesitated to buy presents for her and her mother. In the end, I’d be forced to hand it all over to someone who’d been scheming against me.

What made it even worse was that I was the one who insisted on adding her name to the property title years ago. Just thinking about it made me want to slap myself.

What should I do? What can I do?

On the surface, I kept up my normal routine, but inside, I was a mess of nerves.

One evening, as I was walking toward the entrance of the neighborhood, a woman stopped me. She seemed vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place her at first. She introduced herself as Mrs. He, and then it clicked. She was a neighbor from my hometown. When I was a kid, her son had accidentally fallen into the water, and I used a branch to pull him out. When my parents passed away, she helped with the arrangements. I had been so consumed by grief at the time that I’d forgotten about her kindness.

Seeing the sweat on my forehead, Mrs. He led me to a bench and sat me down, fanning me gently, her voice full of concern. In that moment, a flood of emotions hit me.

After my parents passed, I’d been holding my family together, making sacrifices, but I never imagined my wife and mother-in-law were secretly plotting against me. The contrast of this stranger’s kindness against the betrayal from my own family nearly made me break down. I quickly wiped my eyes, silently vowing I wouldn’t let them get away with this.

Mrs. He explained that she’d recently moved to the nearby neighborhood and sometimes came over. She’d heard the rumors about me “beating my wife” and, upon realizing that my name was also He Tao, had been coming to the gate every day to confirm if it was really me.

Then she dropped a bombshell. Apparently, my wife often hung out with my mother-in-law in public, sometimes “accidentally” exposing bruises on her arms and thighs. The other women who saw these “injuries” naturally believed the rumors about my domestic violence.

My mind was spinning. Where did these “bruises” come from? I had never touched her!

After sending Mrs. He on her way, I didn’t go straight home. Instead, I went to the mall and bought a few mini surveillance cameras. While my wife and mother-in-law were out, I set them up in the living room and bedroom.

A week later, I finally caught something. One evening, my wife, Chen Qian, suddenly threw a divorce agreement in front of me.

“Let’s get a divorce, He Tao.”

Her tone was cold, and there was even a hint of smugness on her face.

“Divorce? Why? Haven’t I treated you well enough?” I tried to suppress my anger, forcing my voice to stay calm.

“Don’t ask questions, just sign it. It’ll be better for everyone,” she said, as if the decision had already been made. Her smug expression made my heart sink.

I opened the agreement, and after just a quick glance, I felt my blood boil.

“Leave with nothing?!” I scoffed. “You really think I’m that easy to manipulate!” Not only was she trying to take everything, but she also accused me of “domestic violence” and “cheating.”

“Domestic violence? Cheating? This is pure nonsense!” I slammed my hand on the table in fury. But to my shock, Chen Qian was prepared. She pulled out a stack of photos, a medical report, and even intimate photos of me with her best friend.

“This is slander! I will never sign this!” I grabbed the photos and tore them into pieces in a fit of rage.

Chen Qian seemed utterly indifferent. With a cool, detached tone, she casually said, “Take two days to think it over. Otherwise, we’ll see each other in court.”

She grabbed her bag and started to leave. I rushed to stop her, my voice shaky as I asked, “What about Doudou?”

“She’s with my mom. You can see her once you sign the papers.”

I ground my teeth and watched her walk away, my chest seething with rage. But Chen Qian didn’t look back. She headed straight for the elevator, leaving without another word.

As the elevator doors slid shut, I forced my face into a mask of calm, but inside, the fire still burned. My fists tightened, and I told myself: now is not the time to lose control. I need to stay calm, stay under the radar, and play it smart.

What she doesn’t know is that I’ve already found proof of her affair. That’s my ace, and I’ll play it at the perfect moment.

For the next two days, I tried reaching out to her repeatedly, trying to salvage what was left of our marriage, even though I knew it was pointless. “Honey, please don’t divorce me.” “Honey, do you like LV bags? Let’s go buy one now.” Each message was met with total silence. Chen Qian didn’t reply once.

Her indifference crushed the last of my hope and snuffed out any remaining tenderness I might have had for her. I silently vowed never to let her or her family manipulate me again. A mother like her doesn’t deserve to have Doudou. I’ll take my daughter and protect her from the darkness they’re trying to drag her into.

The third morning, Chen Qian posted a “little essay” on her usual social media account, featuring photos of bruises on her arms, legs, and face.

“Is this from domestic violence?”
“Do we even need to ask? This guy’s a disgusting abuser!”
“A good woman like her, suffering with him, and still getting beaten—what a heartless man!”
“Divorce! He must leave with nothing!”

The comments poured in, furious and unrelenting. The post quickly went viral. Some people even began digging into my personal information. Before long, even the folks in our neighborhood had heard about it, and I could feel their judgmental stares as I walked down the street.

Later in the afternoon, Chen Qian fueled the fire even more by posting another set of “intimate” photos of me with her best friend. In these, my face was clearly visible.

The internet exploded. “Scum of the earth!”
“Abuser and cheater? Absolute trash!”
“Does your company know what kind of person you are?”

Within the hour, my home address and workplace were leaked. The comment section at my company’s page turned into a warzone, with netizens demanding my immediate dismissal.

Two days passed without a word from me, and the heat only grew. Even my colleagues began to look at me strangely, as if I had truly become the monster they were portraying. By the afternoon, a small crowd had gathered outside the office, causing a commotion. My boss called me into his office and spoke gravely: “He Tao, it’s probably best you handle your personal matters. Take some time off work for now.”

When I got home, eggs and trash were scattered at my doorstep, and someone had sprayed “Scumbag” on the wall with paint. At that moment, I felt a deep, crushing sense of defeat: How did my life end up like this?

But thinking of Doudou snapped me back to reality. I forced myself to stay calm and resist the urge to lash out. Just as I sat down, Chen Qian’s call came in.

“He Tao, just sign the papers. After everything we’ve been through, I don’t want to make this any worse.”

Her voice was as cold as ever, with the smug superiority of someone who thought they had won.

I gave a bitter laugh. “After everything that’s happened, you still think this isn’t bad enough?”

“He Tao, you’ve forced my hand. Just sign, and it’ll all be over.”

“Dream on!”

That evening, Chen Qian posted yet another “little essay.” This time, it was a video showing a shabby rental apartment. She sobbed in the video: “My daughter and I were kicked out of our home and now have no choice but to stay here.”

I couldn’t help but sneer. They were the ones who had moved out, and now she had the nerve to twist the truth and stab me in the back.

The netizens were furious over her performance, rallying behind her in outrage. Some even suggested she start a livestream, promising to send large gifts in support.

As I watched this circus unfold, I didn’t bite. I didn’t react. I knew the game: to make someone fall, you first have to drive them mad.

Slowly, the situation began to spiral. Chen Qian turned our lives into a public spectacle, flooding the internet with her drama. It even attracted countless livestream influencers. The area outside our apartment became a hotspot, buzzing with noise every day as if it were a reality TV show.

I took a few photos and sent them to Chen Qian with a simple message: “Know when to stop.”

She didn’t reply, but I noticed her livestreams growing more popular. She kept telling viewers, “Please don’t send gifts,” yet hadn’t disabled the gift feature. That’s when it hit me—her goal wasn’t just to strip me of everything; she was using this to gain fame, draw followers, and make money.

I couldn’t help but laugh at their ignorance. It was almost comical how little they understood the law.

The next day, I put on my best outfit and, with my colleagues’ curious stares weighing on me, walked into my boss’s office. I could feel every whisper, every judgment pressing against my back, but I had no choice but to face it head-on.

Twenty minutes later, the company issued a statement:
“If this situation involves any wrongdoing on the part of our employee, we will take full responsibility and ensure justice for the woman. However, if this is not the case, we will stand firmly in defending the legal rights of our employee.”

The statement sent shockwaves through the media. Some criticized the company for being cold-hearted, accusing them of supporting domestic violence and infidelity. Others praised the company for taking a stand, willing to face the controversy head-on. As the statement gained traction, the scandal reached its peak.

Meanwhile, I filed a lawsuit against Chen Qian, accusing her of infidelity and defamation.

Chen Qian panicked. She knew how flimsy her “evidence” was. Desperate, she even tried to use our daughter to pressure me. But I had already anticipated this. I’d picked up Doudou from kindergarten early that day and left her in Aunt He’s care.

On the day of the court hearing, all the evidence came to light. Chen Qian’s “injuries” were fake, her medical reports fabricated. As for the so-called “cheating photo,” the truth was even more absurd.

The photo was taken on the day of Chen Qian’s best friend’s birthday. She invited our whole family to dinner and kept forcing alcohol on me. Seizing the opportunity to go to the bathroom, I secretly called a police friend, turned on my voice recorder, and captured everything. I pretended to be drunk, but they weren’t satisfied. Chen Qian’s mother came in to pour even more alcohol on me. That’s when Chen Qian’s best friend leaned in close, and Chen Qian started snapping photos.

What they didn’t know was that my police friend and his colleagues had already been listening in and had full audio evidence of everything.

Though Chen Qian didn’t receive a prison sentence, she was detained for making false accusations, and the money she had moved overseas was legally recovered. Meanwhile, the same netizens who had once insulted me began apologizing. But I didn’t care. These keyboard warriors had always believed they stood on the moral high ground, but in reality, they used the weapon of “justice” to hurt others and then pretended nothing had happened.

“Hubby, I was wrong… I was deceived, too…” Chen Qian sobbed, trying to grab my hand.

I felt nothing but disgust and instinctively pulled away.

Her father appeared too, supporting the broken Chen Qian. His back was hunched, his hair white as snow, his hands cracked and rough like dead tree bark. His eyes were full of guilt, but I couldn’t bring myself to sympathize.

I ended up sending the video of my mother-in-law’s infidelity to my father-in-law. That night, he was so enraged that he confronted his wife and ended up breaking her leg. The next day, he filed for divorce and walked away without taking a single penny.

As for Chen Qian, she tried to run to her “lover” for refuge, but that guy had already disappeared, leaving behind a trail of debt collectors surrounding her and her mother. That’s when she realized she’d been nothing more than a pawn. It turned out her lover was a gambler who had manipulated her into forcing me out just to pocket the cash.

Chen Qian came to me again, crying and begging for forgiveness. I didn’t open the door. She lost it, screaming from the street below:

“He Tao, you think you’ve won? Hahaha! You’re just a rebound! If I hadn’t gotten pregnant, I never would have married you!”

“Let me tell you, that baby I miscarried wasn’t yours! Doudou isn’t even your daughter!”

Each of her words was like a knife, but I felt nothing. No anger. No bitterness. I had lost everything.

In the end, Chen Qian was kicked out of the neighborhood. The scandal had blown up so big that no one would rent her a place or hire her. The two of them turned on each other, pushing and shoving. In the chaos, Chen Qian fell and injured her leg.

A week later, another explosive scandal hit the internet:
“Female Kindergarten Teacher Accidentally Sends Inappropriate Video to Parent Group!”

Chen Qian’s best friend, one of the key instigators in this entire mess, finally reaped what she had sown.

A month later, I left the city with my daughter. Thanks to my outstanding performance at work, the company offered me a transfer to the headquarters. I didn’t look back. That chapter of my life was nothing more than an absurd nightmare.