On our wedding anniversary, two pink lines stared back at me from the pregnancy test.
My heart took flight. I was about to rush to my husband, Gu Chuan, when my phone screen lit up.
A message from his "girl best friend," Zhou Man. Attached was a photo of Gu Chuan shirtless, flexing his abs.
The caption was a naked taunt: "Hey sis, tested the goods for you. Not bad. He really knows how to get things done. You don't mind if he spends tonight with his best bro, right?"
My hands shook with fury. I called him instantly.
He answered with a roar. "Zhou Man's just being Zhou Man! Can't you take a joke? We're like siblings!"
The call died. Another message from Zhou Man flashed.
A selfie.
She wore the limited-edition couple's hoodie I'd waited three hours in line for, nestled against Gu Chuan's shoulder, a victorious smirk on her lips.
Beneath it: "He said it looks better on me anyway~"
1
Gu Chuan didn't stumble in until 2 AM.
I sat frozen on the sofa. Beside me, the new copy of Complete Guide to Pregnancy Nutrition lay with the test tucked beneath it.
The lock turned. He entered, trailing a wisp of familiar perfume. He didn't change his shoes, just tossed his jacket on the couch, ignored me, and tugged at his tie, heading for the bathroom.
"Wait."
My voice sliced the silence.
He paused and turned, his face a perfect mask of irritation. "What now? Go to sleep."
"What now?" I breathed deep, swallowing the nausea. I pushed the book and test to the center of the coffee table. "We need to talk."
His gaze drifted over, then snagged on the book's title. His pupils shrank. But his expression wasn't shock or joy—it was pure disgust.
He stormed over, snatched the book, and slammed it to the floor. Pages fanned out with a sickening crack.
"Jiang Li, what's your game now?" He loomed over me, pointing an accusing finger. "Trying to trap me with a baby? Feeling insecure? I've told you—I'm building my career. I don't want a kid. Are you deaf?"
I stared at the man I'd loved for five years, been married to for three. For him, I'd quit my six-figure job. I choked down bitter tonics, charted cycles, obsessed over my health. When he grew cold, I told myself he was just tired.
Now, he'd reduced our child to a bargaining chip, a burden.
"Gu Chuan, this is your child! A living being!" I stood, legs trembling. "You call Zhou Man your 'brother.' Did you ever think about me? Now I'm carrying your baby, and you think I'm plotting?"
"Don't drag Manman into this," he cut in coldly. "She's more understanding than you'll ever be. She doesn't dump this trash on me. You think getting pregnant makes you a hero? Don't want it? Get rid of it. Stop trying to threaten me."
Threaten?
My heart plunged into an icy void. So that's what this was to him.
A cheery ringtone shattered the quiet—his special tone for Zhou Man.
The disgust on Gu Chuan's face vanished, replaced by a tenderness I hadn't seen in months. Without a glance my way, he passed me, answering as he stepped onto the balcony.
"Hey, Manman? What's wrong? Still awake?"
"A nightmare? Don't be scared, it's not real… Did you eat something bad? I told you to go easy on the ice."
"Alright, alright, I'll stop nagging. You're the boss."
"Okay, I'll soothe you. Don't cry…"
His voice, dripping with a forgotten gentleness, carried clearly through the glass.
I stood alone in the empty living room, watching that familiar back, and a hysterical laugh bubbled inside me.
Pure siblings?
What siblings called each other midnight, begging to be comforted? What siblings wore each other's couple gear and posted cozy selfies?
Only a blind man—or one who chose to be blind—could call this twisted intimacy 'brotherhood' and then blame me for not getting it.
2
When Gu Chuan returned, traces of that softness still clung to him. But the moment his eyes met mine, they hardened to stone.
"I'm going out."
He grabbed his jacket from the sofa, moving without hesitation.
"Where?"
I already knew.
"Manman's upset. I need to check on her." He stated it as fact, not even crafting a decent lie. "Go to sleep. Stop being paranoid."
The door slammed before I could respond.
I stood frozen. Then a sharp, wrenching pain stabbed my lower abdomen.
I folded, collapsing onto the cold floor, curling into myself. Cold sweat pricked my forehead. It was as if our child could feel its father's rejection, crying out the only way it knew how.
With trembling hands, I pulled out my phone. Against all sense, I opened Zhou Man's social feed.
I refreshed.
A new post.
No words. Just a picture.
The background was dim, intimate, and instantly recognizable.
Gu Chuan's bedroom. Our bedroom.
In the nightstand corner, the edge of our Maldives wedding photo was unmistakable.
The focus was Zhou Man.
She wore a deep purple silk robe.
My robe. Gu Chuan's first-anniversary gift to me. I'd worn it only a few times, saving it in the back of my closet.
Now it hung loose on her, the collar gaping. In her hand was Gu Chuan's favorite silver razor.
She gazed at the camera, eyes hazy, lips curved in a victor's smile.
A line of small text below:
"Son's things are just so much better to use."
My eyes locked on the watermarked date.
Last Wednesday.
That day, Gu Chuan said he had an emergency three-day business trip abroad. He suggested I stay with my parents. I believed him, even packed his suitcase and tucked in stomach medicine.
That night, in my old childhood bed, drinking bitter tonic, I'd texted him to take care.
He'd replied: "Meetings just ended. Exhausted. Going to sleep."
So his "meetings" were in our marital bed with his "best bro"?
His "exhaustion" came from sweating over another woman?
While I gave up my life, living like a nun to prepare for this baby, he paraded her in my robe, in our bed!
The cramping intensified, a knife twisting deep inside. But the physical pain felt distant now.
My tears didn't fall; they burned to ash in my eyes.
Gritting my teeth, I forced myself up on weak legs. I found a number in my contacts—my college roommate, now one of the city's most formidable divorce lawyers.
She answered on the second ring, voice sleepy. "Jiang Li? It's the middle of the night. What's wrong?"
"Draft me divorce papers," I said, my voice eerily calm.
"Now?" A pause. "Are you sure?"
"Deadly sure." I looked around the empty room, this place I'd called home, and felt my confusion sharpen into a razor's edge. "I want him to leave with nothing. Start gathering evidence. I have solid proof of the affair."
"Okay. If you're sure, I'll make sure you win this war." My friend shifted instantly into professional mode. "No mercy."
"Mercy?" My hand moved to my aching abdomen. "The Jiang Li who loved Gu Chuan died tonight."
3
Gu Chuan didn't return until noon the next day.
He walked in carrying a boutique shopping bag, a placating smile plastered on his face as if last night never happened.
"Sweetheart, still mad?" He changed his shoes, sidled over, and offered the bag. "I was tired yesterday, spoke without thinking. This is that necklace you wanted. I pulled strings. My peace offering, okay?"
I sat at the table, sipping congee, not looking up.
That necklace? I'd mentioned it half a year ago. He said it was too expensive, impractical. Then he bought Zhou Man a new car for her birthday.
This was a bribe, a flimsy cover for his guilt.
"Put it there," I said flatly.
Seeing no fight in me, he relaxed. "Great. You rest. I need a shower. Was… burning the midnight oil at the office."
He was lying. The cloying scent of perfume still clung to him—Byredo's Rose of No Man's Land. Zhou Man's signature. Pregnancy really did heighten the senses.
He dropped his suitcase in the living room and vanished into the bathroom. The shower hissed.
I set down my spoon. My eyes landed on the black suitcase—the one from his supposed 'business trip,' untouched since his rushed return.
I walked over and quietly unzipped it.
Clothes were stuffed inside haphazardly. I searched without emotion until my fingers, in a hidden lining at the bottom, brushed against soft, silky fabric.
I pulled it out.
A pair of purple lace panties.
Ridiculously risqué, barely-there strings and scraps of lace. Vulgar. Not my size. Certainly not my style.
Holding them, I walked to the bathroom door and waited.
Five minutes later, the water stopped. Gu Chuan emerged, a towel around his waist, rubbing his hair.
He looked up and froze. His face blanched. His hand stilled. His pupils shook.
"Jiang… Jiang Li…" His voice trembled, eyes glued to the lingerie. He hadn't expected this.
"Another gift for your 'brother'?" I dangled the scrap of fabric, a mocking smile on my lips. "Gu Chuan, your bond with Zhou Man is truly touching. Do you exchange underwear too?"
His Adam's apple bobbed. His eyes darted, scrambling. "Don't… twist this! That's… that's…"
He spat out a pathetic lie. "I grabbed it by mistake! Or it's a prank! The guys were messing around last night…"
"The guys?" I stepped forward, forcing his gaze. "Which 'guy' wears this? Introduce me."
He retreated, anger flushing his face. "Jiang Li, must you be so vile? It was a misunderstanding! Are we really fighting over this? I bought you a gift! What more do you want?!"
At that tense moment, his phone on the coffee table rang—a video call.
Gu Chuan lunged for it, fumbling to decline.
In his panic, his finger slipped. He hit 'Accept.'
The screen lit up, filled with Zhou Man's perfectly made-up face. She looked freshly awake, in a silk camisole, her voice sickly sweet.
"Son~ What are you doing? Took you forever!"
"Hey, why'd you take my panties last night? Those were my favorite. The ones with the…"
Before she finished, Gu Chuan's face turned frog-green. He stabbed the 'end' button, fingers shaking.
Zhou Man's playful whine continued, "Want to keep it as a souvenir? So pervy~ But since it's you, Daddy forgives you…"
Beep.
The call ended.
Dead silence.
The lie lay shattered at our feet. No misunderstanding. No prank. Just sordid, undeniable adultery.
Gu Chuan stood with his back to me, spine rigid.
After a long moment, he turned. His face was ashen, but he clung to his crumbling pride. "She… she was drunk. Talking nonsense. Jiang Li, don't—"
"Enough."
My voice was ice.
I walked to the trash can and, right before him, dropped the purple lace inside. My movements dripped with disgust.
"Gu Chuan, you make me sick." I met his eyes. "Take that gift with you. It's tainted."
I turned, walked into the bedroom, and locked the door.
Outside, I heard the thud of him kicking the sofa in rage.
I didn't care anymore.
4
The pain woke me in the dead of night.
It was violent, savage—a rending agony in my abdomen and back that tore me from sleep. Cold sweat instantly drenched me.
My hand flew beneath me. My fingertips met warmth. Stickiness.
Blood.
So much blood.
In the moonlight, the dark red stain spread horrifically across the sheets.
Pure terror swallowed me.
The baby. My baby.
Even after everything, I'd never considered giving up this life. This was a part of me, a miracle.
"Gu Chuan! GU CHUAN!"
My screams were weak, strangled by pain.
No answer.
The house was a tomb.
He wasn't home.
In this moment of life and death, my husband was gone.
With bloody fingers, I grabbed my phone and frantically dialed his number.
One ring. Two. Three.
Each tone hammered my nerves.
Finally, he answered. Blaring metal music and shrieks of laughter nearly drowned him out—a bar or club.
"What?!" His voice was slurred, drunk.
"Gu Chuan… help… I can't…" I curled tighter, spasming. "I'm bleeding… so much blood… come home… hospital…"
A beat of silence.
Then a derisive snort. "Bleeding? Jiang Li, fresh material, please. First, you rifle through my stuff, now a fake miscarriage? You think I have time for your drama?"
"I'm not lying… it's real… the pain…" I begged through sobs, nails digging into the sheet. "Please… we're losing the baby…"
"So lose it!" he roared. "Your fault! You and your paranoid bullshit, making everyone miserable!"
In the background, Zhou Man's sugary voice piped up. "Son~ Who's that? So annoying. Tonight's our celebration! You promised me drinks till we drop!"
Gu Chuan's tone shifted instantly, softening for her. I heard him clearly through the noise: "Nothing. Just the crazy woman acting up. Ignore her. Come on, bottoms up!"
Then, back into the phone, venomous and final: "Stop calling! My son is happy tonight, and I'm staying. You won't die from a little blood. Don't ruin my mood."
Click. Dial tone.
The phone slipped from my numb hand into the bloody sheets.
My son is happy…
So, in his heart, Zhou Man was his real 'son,' his precious one.
My child and I could die here, and we'd only be 'ruining his mood.'
The pain reached a blinding peak. My vision blurred.
No. I won't die. Not like this. Not before they pay.
With my last shred of will, I clutched the phone, bloody fingers slipping as I dialed 911.
"Help… Riverside Gardens, Building 3… pregnant… hemorrhaging…"
The wait for the ambulance was an eternity. Lying in the cold, spreading red, I felt my warmth seeping away.
Finally, pounding on the door. Voices. I was lifted onto a stretcher.
Sirens wailed. My world faded to gray.
As consciousness slipped, my phone screen lit up in my limp hand.
A final message from Gu Chuan.
With immense effort, I focused.
Five words, colder than all the blood I'd lost:
"Stop pretending. It's disgusting."
The phone clattered to the floor.
In that moment, my heart stopped beating for him forever.
5
I awoke to sterile white and the sharp sting of antiseptic.
The hospital.
I shifted. A hollow, aching pain throbbed in my abdomen.
My hand flew to my stomach, once home to a tiny life.
Now, just flat emptiness.
The baby was gone.
My eyes were dry. No tears. This was the numbness beyond grief.
The door burst open. Gu Chuan stormed in, followed by his parents.
He looked haggard from his night out. Seeing me awake, no guilt crossed his face—only irritation.
"You're up? Good. Get discharged. This place costs a fortune."
His mother, my sharp-tongued mother-in-law, planted her hands on her hips, beady eyes raking over me. "Jiang Li, more cunning by the day. Fight with your husband, then pull a miscarriage stunt? One life isn't enough? Trying to guilt us with a death?"
She stepped closer, jabbing a finger. "Dream on! Our Gu family isn't falling for it! A worthless girl who can't even give me a grandson, and now can't carry a brat to term? What use are you?"
His father stood back, arms crossed, examining me like defective goods. He snorted. "Shameless. You've disgraced us. Gu Chuan, divorce her."
I lay still, listening.
Gu Chuan let them hurl abuse, nodding along.
"Hear that, Jiang Li? I'm done." He looked down, eyes icy. "Just a kid. Good riddance. Never wanted it. Behave, and maybe when my career's stable, we'll try again. But you had to make a scene. Happy?"
I closed my eyes. The sight of them sickened me.
The door opened again, without a knock.
My friend, Attorney Lin, entered first. Impeccable in a black suit, her gaze was a honed blade. Behind her was a stern man in a suit, briefcase in hand.
"Jiang Li." Lin's eyes softened for a second at my pallor before turning coolly professional. She came to my bedside, holding out a document.
Gu Chuan's mother blocked her. "Who are you? Get out! Family business!"
Attorney Lin ignored her, nodding to the man beside her.
He stepped forward, opening his briefcase. His voice was calm, authoritative. "Mr. Gu, Mr. and Mrs. Gu. I am Gu Kaishan, legal counsel for Singularity Venture Capital. I am here on behalf of our Chairwoman, Ms. Jiang Li."
He let the title hang.
"Five years ago, Ms. Jiang made an angel investment in Stardust Technologies. Last Wednesday, Stardust listed on NASDAQ. As the largest individual shareholder, Ms. Jiang's current estimated net worth is 3.7 billion U.S. dollars."
The room plunged into stunned silence.
Gu Chuan's mother's jaw hung open.
His father's arms fell.
Gu Chuan looked struck by lightning.
3.7 billion… dollars?
The number detonated in their minds.
Mr. Gu continued, unaffected. "Furthermore, the 'Soar Project' where Mr. Gu is employed is funded by a Stardust subsidiary. Your project is seeking acquisition. The parent company overseeing this acquisition is, again, Stardust."
He turned to Gu Chuan, whose face was ghost-white, and presented a file. "In short, Mr. Gu, the project you celebrated last night—your career—its fate rests entirely with my client, your wife, Ms. Jiang Li."
"This is a termination agreement. The moment she signs, your project collapses from immediate capital rupture."
Attorney Lin handed me a pen.
I opened my eyes and looked at Gu Chuan.
All color had drained from his face. For the first time, I saw real, primal fear in his eyes.
6
The man who'd stood above me, hurling accusations, now crumpled.
Thud.
He fell to his knees, crawling forward to clutch my thin gown, his face a grotesque mask of tears and snot.
"Wife… wife, I was wrong! So wrong!"
He wailed, slapping his own face. Hard.
Smack. Smack. Smack.
"My fault! I should've answered! I shouldn't have messed with Zhou Man! I'm trash! Inhuman!"
His cheeks reddened, swelled. Blood trickled from his lip. He didn't stop, eyes desperate. "One more chance! Zhou Man was nothing! A fling! I've always loved you! Five years! I can't lose you!"
His mother scrambled over, venom replaced by fawning panic. She tried to grab my hand. "Yes! Jiang Li, dear! He slipped! All men stray! He admits it! Forgive him! We'll treat you like royalty!"
His father joined in, wringing his hands. "Family is family! No divorce! The company matters… we'll do anything…"
"All your assets?"
My quiet question cut through their pleas.
Gu Chuan thought I was relenting. He nodded frantically, gripping my hand. "Yes! Everything! My apartment, cars, savings—all yours! I'll leave with nothing! Just don't pull the funding! Don't destroy me! I'll give you anything!"
He thought this was his ultimate sacrifice, his trump card.
I looked at him with utter disdain. Slowly, I pulled my hand free.
"Gu Chuan," I began, voice chillingly even. "Three years ago, I told you about a startup. AI smart home tech. I believed in its future."
I held his gaze. "Remember what you said?"
He froze.
I answered for him. "You said: 'Jiang Li, lost your mind sitting at home? Pipe dreams? A washed-up housewife who can't read a balance sheet wants to play venture capitalist? That water's too deep. Don't gamble our savings away.'"
I paused. His head drooped.
"Zhou Man was there," I continued, relentless. "She laughed, hanging on your arm, and said to me: 'Auntie, Brother Chuan's right. Leave business to men. Your value is at home, cooking and taking care of him.'"
The last flicker of hope in his eyes died.
He remembered. Every crushing word.
A cold, mirthless smile touched my lips. "Your assets? They aren't worth a single day's cash flow for my company now."
I leaned in, my whisper a blade at his ear. "You said I was washed-up."
"You said I dreamed pipe dreams."
"You called me a worthless waste."
"Now," I drew back, voice clear and final, "watch this waste strip you of everything."
His entire body shuddered, collapsing into despair.
7
Gu Chuan was still a heap when the door flew open again.
Zhou Man rushed in, a whirlwind of panic, composure gone. She ignored Gu Chuan and flung herself at my bedside, grabbing my arm. Fake tears streamed.
"Sister Jiang Li! Sorry! So sorry!"
She sobbed dramatically. "My fault! I was blind, shameless! I shouldn't have come between you!"
She pivoted, throwing him under the bus. "He lied! Said he didn't love you, would divorce you! Said you were crazy, a nightmare! He tricked me!"
Fumbling, she pulled out her phone. "Look! Evidence! Recordings! He bad-mouthed you, said you were old, dull, a burden! I knew he was bad! I wanted to tell you, but I was scared!"
She held the phone out, eyes wide with feigned hope.
I didn't glance at it. A slight nod to Attorney Lin sufficed.
Lin stepped forward, taking a file from Mr. Gu. She loomed over Zhou Man, spreading pages.
"Ms. Zhou. This will look more familiar."
Zhou Man's sobs hitched. She looked.
Page one: bank statements. Clear records of embezzlement—over three million from project funds, spent on luxury bags, jewelry, cars. Each matched a boastful social media post.
Page two: email screenshots. Recipient: Gu Chuan's biggest competitor. Content: the 'Soar Project's' core specs and business plan. Sent the night of their 'celebration.'
Attorney Lin's voice was arctic. "Ms. Zhou, you leveraged your relationship for serious misappropriation of funds and leaked core commercial secrets to a competitor."
"This constitutes Duty Embezzlement and Violation of Trade Secrets. You will face the full consequences of the law."
Zhou Man's face went paper-white. She swayed, phone clattering, screen cracking.
On the floor, Gu Chuan's head snapped up. He stared at her with pure hatred. The project he'd killed himself for… she'd sold it out.
Thud.
Zhou Man's legs gave way. She collapsed.
I didn't spare them another look. Their mutual destruction meant nothing.
I simply took the final document from Mr. Gu—the termination agreement—and signed my name.
8
Everything after that moved with swift, brutal efficiency.
I handled the fallout with a steel will I never knew I had.
Gu Chuan had no room to negotiate. He left with nothing but massive debt. My legal team prosecuted him for his role in the fraud. His career evaporated.
I didn't attend his trial. I saw the news photo later. In prison garb, handcuffed, he'd aged decades, hair grey, eyes hollow.
Zhou met a similar fate. Multiple charges ensured her youth would be spent behind bars. Rumor said they turned on each other in court, a vicious spectacle.
It was no longer my concern.
One Year Later
Summer sunlight streamed through a floor-to-ceiling window, glinting off a finance magazine cover.
On the cover: me.
In a crisp white suit, hair in soft waves, my gaze was calm and assured.
The headline: "Young Entrepreneur of the Year: Jiang Li – From Angel Investor to Tech Titan."
Setting the magazine aside, I adjusted my lapel and walked onto the stage of an industry summit.
Below, thousands of elites listened as I outlined my vision for the future.
I was no longer defined by a kitchen or a husband. I had reclaimed my career, my dreams, myself.
The speech ended to resounding applause.
As I stepped offstage, a warm, familiar voice called my name.
"Jiang Li?"
I turned.
A man stood there, tall and poised in a bespoke suit, handsome features lit by a genuine smile. His eyes held a familiar kindness.
Shen Zhuo. My senior from university, the law school star who always sat front row during my debates. Time had refined him into elegant success.
"Senior Shen?" I was surprised.
"It really is you." His eyes shone with pure admiration and rediscovered joy. "On stage just now… you were radiant. I almost didn't dare approach."
He took a sleek card from his pocket, offering it with both hands. "I've followed your story. I'm so happy for you. You've surpassed every expectation."
His tone was sincere, without flattery.
"If you don't mind," he said, pausing, his gaze meeting mine—gentle, respectful, earnest, "I'd like the honor of reintroducing myself… to the truly radiant Chairwoman Jiang."
The sun haloed him from the window behind.
Looking into his honest, bright eyes, the shadows of the past—the pain and betrayal—finally dissolved, burned away by a new, dawning light.
I smiled, reaching out to accept his card.
And to accept the new life that was wholly, brilliantly mine.
(End)