On the eve of the child custody hearing, the wife was stunned to receive an envelope from her husband’s personal doctor: He ordered the dosage of the toxin in your blood to be increased!
CHAPTER I: CALLUSES AT THE ABSOLUTE BOTTOM
In a certain poor city, where asphalt roads stained with patches of motor oil and the creaking of oxcart wheels scraping against the ground whenever night fell, survival was never a gentle melody. At that dreary street corner flickering with streetlights, people lived day by day on salty sweat and weary sighs escaping from cramped, damp level-four houses.
Right there at the bottom of society, two empty-handed souls found each other, walking hand in hand through the poorest days of their lives.
They started their venture from a cramped little attic, where an old rickety desk and a yellowish light bulb were the sole witnesses to sleepless nights. The wife contributed every little bit of savings from her maternal family, alongside hands calloused from hired labor, day and night worrying over every modest meal to let her husband focus on mapping out grand business plans. In those years, his gaze brimmed with gratitude and sincere love. He used to swear a solemn oath before her that if he ever struck it rich, he would use his very life to protect the mother and child, never letting them suffer any further hardships.
She believed him. That trust was so profound that she regarded his success as rightful compensation for the entire youth she had dedicated.
They weathered storms together, founded a company, and steered through phases on the brink of bankruptcy. And then, when true radiance finally touched them, when the company’s name officially resonated on the ticker tape of a trillion-dollar stock market with a valuation that astonished the commercial world, happiness seemed complete—yet that was precisely when the flawless facade began to fracture.
CHAPTER II: THE LUXURIOUS SKYSCRAPER AND THE ICE-COLD DIVORCE PAPERS
When the bell rang to mark the milestone of the company officially going public on the national stock exchange, he stepped onto the podium of glory in an expensive designer suit, holding a glass of champagne and smiling brightly under hundreds of camera lenses and roaring applause. He had become a young billionaire, an icon of successful business tycoons.
Yet in his eyes at that moment, the figure of his steadfast wife sitting quietly in the back row suddenly became an eyesore and redundant. She no longer belonged to this glittering world. In the mind of someone who had reached the pinnacle of power and wealth, the wife who once shared hardships with him was now merely a rustic blot, a shabby piece of past that needed to be erased to make way for elite matches with heiresses of major financial conglomerates.
And it didn’t take him long to make his move.
Scarcely a month after that fateful ceremony, while she was still immersed in the superficial joy of the family’s success, he slammed a stack of divorce papers onto the luxurious dining table in the lavish villa they had recently moved into.
Not a word of explanation. Not a shred of old affection.
The bitterest, most cruel part wasn’t that he wanted to cast her off, but that he unilaterally filed a petition to contest custody of their only son—the child who was her lifeline, her sole breath during all those lonely years waiting for her husband absorbed in corporate affairs. He hired the city’s sharpest legal team, fabricating a series of baseless allegations to prove she showed signs of psychological instability, lacking the competence and qualifications to raise the child.
The preliminary court hearing would take place tomorrow morning. The entire legal system seemed to lean toward the wealthy, plunging her into the abyss of utter despair and powerlessness.
CHAPTER III: THE SILENT NIGHT AND THE SECRET KNOCK
Outside the villa window, the night of the lavish city enveloped a cold, serene space. The vast house echoed her sighs into empty, agonizing sounds.
Her son had fallen asleep after crying spells choked with terror at the spectacle of his parents fighting. She sat dazed at the edge of the bed, her gaze blankly staring into the dark void. Tomorrow alone, if the trial proceeded according to the script her traitorous husband had pre-arranged, she would be stripped of her maternal rights, kicked out of her little boy’s life with empty hands and the label of a “madwoman”.
Just as her mind plunged into the abyss of ultimate despair, a gentle knock rang out from the front door on the ground floor.
Knock… knock… knock.
In the dead of night, within a villa secured by cutting-edge security systems, that knock carried a strange, eerie sensation. She snapped back to senses, stepping stealthily downstairs, holding her breath as she looked through the security camera lens mounted at the door.
Standing on the porch was a man in a dark coat, his hat pulled down to obscure half his face. It was the family’s personal doctor—whom her husband had always trusted to handle routine health checkups for the household over the past few years.
She gently twisted the door handle, opening a narrow gap. The moment he saw her, the doctor revealed an expression of panic, sweat pouring profusely despite the biting chill of early winter outside. Without wasting a word, he quickly shoved an ivory envelope sealed with wax into her hand, his trembling voice whispering through clenched teeth:
“Don’t read it here! Burn it once you’ve read it! And… save yourself, madam…”
Before she could ask for the reason, the doctor hurriedly turned around, vanishing into the pitch-dark night like a ghost.
CHAPTER IV: THE FATEFUL LETTER AND THE HAIR-RAISING TRUTH
She retreated, slammed the door shut, and ran up to the living room, her hands shaking as she peeled off the wax seal of the ivory envelope. Inside lay nothing else but a medical test report bearing her name, accompanied by a hastily written handwritten letter in scrawled yet panicked strokes.
Reading every line on the paper, the blood in her body seemed to freeze, her chest choking so she could not breathe:
“To you, the unfortunate woman…”
“I am writing these lines as my conscience bites me to the core. Over the past two years, under the direct instruction and strict command of your husband, the liver and kidney tonics I prescribed for you daily were actually not medications. They were a slow-acting synthetic toxin, acting covertly on the nervous and immune systems, causing your strength to slowly fail, your mind to cloud, your hair to fall out, and symptoms identical to severe psychiatric disorders to appear.”
“He wanted to use this fabricated medical record to prove in court tomorrow that you lack civil legal capacity, thereby legalizing the theft of child custody and booting you out of the house without dividing any assets.”
“But what I fear most… tonight, one day before the trial, your husband directly called to threaten and order me to double the dosage of toxins in the next prescription, with the intent of completely and smoothly ending your life right tonight! He doesn’t just want to rob you of your child; he wants to buy your life as well!”
“I am too terrified of this monstrous crime. Please flee… Take care!”
The paper slipped from her hand onto the cold floor.
Everything around her seemed to collapse. The dull, persistent aches in her chest that she once thought came from overworking over the past period turned out to be poisoned blades stabbed into her back by the very man she had sacrificed her whole life for. He hadn’t just betrayed the marriage and cast aside old affection; he had heartlessly poisoned her day by day, turning her into a hollow corpse merely to serve his boundless ambition for wealth and supreme power.
The initial fear was swiftly consumed by a blazing fire of supreme hatred. In her tear-filled eyes at that moment, there was no longer any room for weakness or tears.
CHAPTER V: THE COUNTERATTACK PLAN IN THE DARKNESS
The clock struck two in the morning. The villa was plunged into absolute stillness.
She stood before her desk, taking a deep breath to steady her soul. She knew that if she fled now as the doctor advised, she would forever bear the stain of a fugitive, abandoning her son to that cruel beast, while slowly dying in wrongful agony.
No! She could not run. She had to lay a completely different trap to bury him right at the trial tomorrow morning.
Throughout that night, under dim light, she began gathering all the evidence. Fortunately, during her years serving as deputy general director of operations during the early startup phase before stepping back into domesticity to bear a child, she had retained the habit of carefully archiving all documents, call recordings, and even prescriptions bearing the signature of the family doctor requested by her husband.
She backed up all data onto a compact USB drive, set a secure encryption password, and carefully concealed it inside the inner lining of her handbag.
At the same time, she drank just enough warm filtered water to partially flush out the toxins in her body, keeping her mind clear and alert for the life-or-death battle awaiting when daylight broke.
CHAPTER VI: THE FATEFUL TRIAL AND THE TURNING POINT
The city sky the next morning was grey and cold. Morning sunlight failed to pierce the dense fog blanketing the municipal people’s court.
Inside the large courtroom, the atmosphere was intensely heavy. Her husband appeared with a polished, sleek look in an expensive suit, the corners of his lips flashing a triumphant, fake smile full of feigned pity when he saw her enter with a slightly pale complexion. Surrounding him was a formidable legal team carrying thick stacks of documents.
The trial began. The presiding judge gravely listened to the plaintiff’s presentation.
The husband’s lawyer stood up, eloquently reading the indictment, presenting a series of fabricated evidence, from candid photographs suggesting her unstable state to the psychiatric medical record signed by the family doctor per his command.
“May it please the honorable panel of judges,” – the lawyer proclaimed grandly. – “The defendant is currently suffering from a severe psychiatric disorder, frequently experiencing hallucinations, lacking both civil legal capacity and the qualifications to nurture the child. Our client—a successful businessman with ample financial resources and moral standing—requests the court to award sole custody to our client to ensure the child’s best development.”
The husband sitting nearby feigned sorrow, bowing his head and sighing like a man helpless against his ailing wife. The play was so flawless that without knowing the truth, anyone present in the courtroom would have pitied him.
The judge turned to look at her, speaking in a deep, warm voice: “Defendant, do you have any comments regarding the evidence and requests from the plaintiff?”
The entire courtroom turned their eyes toward her.
She slowly stood up. Her complexion was slightly pale, but her spine was straight, and her sparkling yet razor-sharp eyes swept across her husband’s beginning-to-warp face.
“May it please the honorable panel of judges,” – her voice rang out, steady and clear in every word, echoing across the courtroom. – “I completely reject all medical records and baseless accusations from the plaintiff. Because…”
She slowly walked to the witness stand, taking out a compact USB drive and a folder with a red stamp from her bag, placing them gently on the table.
“Because the psychiatric medical record presented by the plaintiff is actually a conscience-less conspiracy aimed at destroying my character and life, orchestrated by none other than the noble plaintiff himself!”
The courtroom instantly erupted into murmurs. The husband startled and jumped to his feet, his face completely drained of color, stammering loudly: “She… what nonsense is she uttering! Your honor, she has truly gone mad!”
“I haven’t gone mad at all, my dear husband!” – she coldly turned to stare straight into his eyes, a mocking half-smile forming on her lips. – “On the contrary, I am exceptionally clear-headed to expose your vile true face.”
She turned back to the panel, raising the dossier high:
“Your Honors, this is a confession bearing the signature and fingerprint of the family doctor—who directly signed the fabricated medical record upon the plaintiff’s orders. And inside this USB drive, all audio recordings of phone conversations between the plaintiff and the doctor regarding increasing the toxin dosage to poison me over the past two years are completely recorded!”
Inspecting the sound play button from the device connected to the courtroom speaker system.
The cold, ruthless voice of the husband rang out clearly amidst the courtroom’s stillness:
“Just double the dose for me! Make sure she collapses before tomorrow’s trial without anyone suspecting a thing. Your pay will triple if this goes smoothly!”
The sound died away, the entire courtroom fell dead silent in utter horror.
The husband collapsed into his chair, eyes bulging as he stared fixedly into empty space, cold sweat pouring profusely across his face. The illusion of a trillion-dollar throne, perfect cover, and absolute victory… everything had shattered into meaningless fragments.
CHAPTER VII: DAWN OVER THE ASHES
The trial ended with a swift, decisive verdict from the panel of judges.
The forged medical records were confiscated immediately. The city police investigative agency drew up a report and issued an emergency arrest warrant for the husband and the family doctor right at the courthouse lobby to investigate charges of attempted murder and document forgery.
Stepping out of the courthouse gates, the sky over the poor city began to clear into sunlight after days of gloom. Morning warmth shone down upon the woman’s face.
She bent down, tightly embracing her little boy who looked up with round eyes at his mother. The fierce battle had passed, leaving behind the ashes of a deceitful and cruel marriage. But she knew that from this moment onward, with resilience forged through storms, she and her son would step forward together, upright and complete, onto the road of life ahead.
