My name was Howard and I was an artist.

On my wedding day, my brother-in-law openly flirted with my younger sister. When I stopped him, my wealthy wife slapped me in front of everyone.

Years later, after her family went bankrupt and she was exposed for cheating, she knelt before me, frantically slapping her own face, begging for my forgiveness.

Unbeknownst to her, this was all part of my plan.

——

My name was Howard Klein and I was an artist. During university, I had countless admirers due to my outstanding appearance, but I only wanted to focus on my art and paid no attention to other matters.

My wife, Fiona Lambert, was one of my many admirers. Unlike others, Fiona was sweet-looking, with a sexy figure and many suitors. However, she fell for me.

Fiona's family was in business. Through an accidental opportunity, their family business surged dramatically, rising step by step to become what people call "newly rich."

To win me over, Fiona gave me expensive art supplies and spent heavily to buy my paintings, promoting them extensively online. I looked down on such actions, feeling they sullied the purity of art. Consequently, I repeatedly rejected Fiona's advances.

In contrast to Fiona, my family was relatively poor. My parents were farmers who spent all their savings to support my university education and were still working hard at their age.

Even though I worked hard—sending my scholarship money home each semester and taking on part-time jobs whenever I could—the money I earned didn’t even compare to the luxury items my classmates casually purchased.

In contrast to the polished, glamorous lives of my peers, I often felt like an outsider. During those times, I would retreat to my studio and lose myself in my art. It was the only way I could catch my breath and feel a sense of meaning.

Gradually, I became known as the "odd one," the "weirdo," the one who didn't fit in. Those rich kids would mock my clothes and criticize my family background. To me, their behavior was extremely childish and I didn't bother arguing with them. But one day, I saw my painting being ridiculed, torn apart and trampled on the ground like trash, utterly devalued. I lost control.

This was the first time in my life that I got into a fight with someone. The other person came from a powerful and influential family, the kind of person that even teachers at school would bow and scrape to. At this moment, they were standing there, pointing and cursing at my parents, whose backs were already hunched from years of hard work.

All kinds of filthy words filled the air, unbearable to hear, yet not a single person in the office dared to step forward and stop it, simply because the other person's parent was a well-known entrepreneur in the city. My parents, small and frail, stood in front of me, bowing and scraping, apologizing repeatedly.

The other person still wouldn't let it go, even threatening that unless we paid them 28 thousand dollars, they would make sure I was expelled from school. For Fiona, 28 thousand dollars was just the price of a luxury bag. But for my parents, who only knew how to farm, even if they stopped eating and drinking now, it would take them seven or eight years to save that much. The moment my honest and humble parents heard the threat of expulsion, they immediately tried to kneel and beg for forgiveness.

I couldn't bear the humiliation any longer. I stepped forward to pull my parents up from the ground, ready to leave, but they stopped me, forcing me to kneel with them. In the end, it was Fiona who stepped in and resolved the situation.

After that incident, it was the first time I truly and painfully realized the importance of money and power. At first, I couldn't stand Fiona's extravagant behavior, but after that incident, I began to slowly accept her gestures of kindness. Whenever I painted, Fiona would quietly sit nearby, watching me as I worked on my art.

Perhaps Fiona was different from those other people. She seemed to genuinely appreciate my work and maybe I could try to accept her. And so, we got together. After being with Fiona, she not only promoted my paintings and organized exhibitions but also used her parents' connections to introduce me to influential figures in the art world.

Gradually, I began to gain some recognition in the art world and those who once looked down on me were now reaching out to me with offers of friendship and support. My parents, thanks to my hard work, finally no longer had to toil in the fields despite their age. I not only bought them the latest smartphones but also had our old house completely renovated according to a new design.

After graduation, I was placed in Fiona's father's company to work under his supervision. However, her parents looked down on me, believing that I was only with her for her money. I admitted that. In the beginning, that was true. But later, as I gained some recognition, I started buying Fiona various expensive little gifts.

Fiona enjoyed going to nightclubs and I never stopped her. I would even prepare a bowl of hangover soup for her after she spent the night out. The only contacts on my phone, besides my mother and her, were all male. If a man did all this, how could he not love her? I believed the answer was clear: he must love her.

Even so, Fiona’s parents still looked down on me and kept urging her to go on blind dates. Fortunately, Fiona loved my face and treated her parents’ words as mere noise, wholeheartedly wanting to marry me.

Just when I thought that as long as my loved one was on my side, we could overcome any difficulty, Fiona's slap on our wedding day marked the beginning of the end of our marriage.

Fiona's parents had once demanded 150 thousand dollars as a dowry to marry their daughter. However, when I actually presented 150 thousand dollars, they changed their terms, insisting that the child must take the mother's surname, or they wouldn't allow Fiona to marry me. For Fiona's sake, I gritted my teeth and agreed. Only then did her parents' attitude soften somewhat, but they continued to publicly claim that I was a son-in-law living off the Lambert Family.

At that time, I didn't care about public opinion; I only cared whether my partner loved me. I thought that if I treated Fiona well and lived happily with her, eventually the Lambert Family would recognize me. Little did I realize how foolish and laughable that thought now seemed.

From the moment Fiona and I got married, the Lambert Family never saw me as a person. My parents, in honor of my wedding, invited relatives and friends and the whole family wore the new clothes they usually saved for Christmas to avoid embarrassing me.

That day, my parents and relatives arrived early to celebrate the big occasion. The Lambert Family, however, arrived only when the wedding was about to start and only a few of them showed up. They didn't even fill the seats reserved for them by the organizers. Fiona's cousin, Pedro, appeared to be simple and honest but was, in reality, cunning and deceitful.

According to Fiona, Pedro once pursued a married woman and, under the guise of a business partner, secretly ruined the woman’s life, causing her family to fall apart.

After the business partner went bankrupt, all the surrounding relatives and friends avoided him, but Pedro continued to maintain a relationship with him as if nothing had changed. Over time, the business partner came to see Pedro as a loyal friend, unaware that this so-called partner had set his sights on his wife.

By the time he realized what had happened, not only had he lost his money, but his wife was also pregnant by someone else. Furious, he sought out Pedro for retribution, but with Pedro's current status, he couldn't even meet him. Instead, he was beaten badly and left with no choice but to swallow his broken teeth in silence.

Someone like Pedro would never marry a married woman. He quickly grew tired of her and had the child aborted. When the woman refused, Pedro forcibly sent her to the hospital for the procedure. Afterwards, the woman went to the Lambert Family, crying and causing a scene, but within minutes, she was dragged away. No one knew whether she was dead or alive.

Yet, this despicable person, Pedro, happened to set his sights on my younger sister, Tina, on the wedding day. Pedro, heavily drunk at the wedding, tried to kiss Tina and even attempted to engage in inappropriate behavior with her in front of everyone. The Lambert Family, accustomed to such disgraceful conduct, didn’t make any move to intervene.

I couldn't stand it any longer and stepped forward to offer a polite warning. To my surprise, Pedro not only ignored me but also insulted me, calling me worthless and a country bumpkin, questioning what right I had to reprimand him. As someone educated and unwilling to stoop to his level, I decided to let my sister leave first and then faced Pedro alone.

Pedro persisted, hurling vulgar insults at me, his words unbearable. Without distinguishing right from wrong, my wife slapped me in front of everyone.

The hall fell silent and I couldn't believe that the woman glaring at me with such hostility, treating me as an enemy, was the one I was about to marry. My parents, seeing me being slapped, stepped forward to defend me, but their lifetime of honesty and simplicity couldn't compete with Pedro. In just a few words, they were easily rebuffed.

I clenched my fists and decided on the spot that I would not go through with the marriage. Only then did Fiona's parents slowly step forward, casually scolding Pedro before turning to blame me for being reckless and ruining the wedding. They dismissed me as a country bumpkin unworthy of their circle. This wedding would be dragged out and used to humiliate me at every future family gathering.

At the time, I couldn’t understand why Fiona was so violent towards me. Later, I realized that she had always looked down on me. She chose to marry me because no one else could tolerate her fiery temper and after the wedding, she often treated me like a servant.

Today was the weekend and also my birthday. Fiona got up early to wash up and do her makeup. I knew she was going out on a date with someone else—a young artist, a college student who was twenty years younger than me. Despite my years of regular exercise and maintaining a light diet, time had still left its marks on my face, making me unable to compete with her younger suitors.

Fiona left in a hurry, leaving the sink area in disarray. I used to clean up after her, but instead of showing any restraint, she only made things worse. After the marriage, Fiona revealed her true nature. She had only married me because of my appearance, while her inherent promiscuity remained unchanged. She continued to keep younger lovers and put me in the position of a cuckold. Moreover, she frequently boasted to her friends about her supposed gentleness and how she had helped me achieve what I had, while belittling me as a useless person.

At eight in the evening, the doorbell rang. I opened the door and was surprised to see who was standing there.

"Mom, Dad, what are you doing here?"

My mother-in-law ignored me and walked in, looking for something. I knew she was searching for Fiona, so I said, "Mom, Fiona isn't home."

My mother-in-law gave me a disdainful glance, probably thinking that my inability to hold onto Fiona was the reason she wasn't home.

I smiled and pretended not to notice. Compared to my mother-in-law, my father-in-law’s expression was noticeably more relaxed. He was holding a bottle of expensive foreign wine.

"Howard, it's your birthday today. This is your favorite wine. Let's have a good drink together," he said.

Although my father-in-law didn't know that I actually didn't like foreign wine, I said nothing and replied with a smile, "Sure, Dad."

Every year on my birthday, I either spend it with my parents and sister at home or celebrate alone. This year, my in-laws' unusual behavior made me curious about their true intentions.

As expected, after a glass of foreign wine, my mother-in-law came straight to the point. "Howard, how is your married life with Fiona these days?"

I responded calmly, "It's going well."

Fiona was indeed doing well, enjoying life with her many younger lovers. I understood what my mother-in-law was hinting at and said, "Mom, just say what you want to say."

The moment of reckoning began.

Upon hearing my response, my mother-in-law didn't hold back and directly asked, "When are you and Fiona planning to have a child?"

Children had always been a concern for my in-laws. Fiona, being an only child, meant that despite being married for so many years, they had never truly accepted me as their son-in-law and naturally, I had no claim to their family fortune. For years, they had pinned their hopes on Fiona's ability to bear children.

Fiona had repeatedly refused to have children with me. Whenever my in-laws asked about this, she would put on a demure act, claiming she wanted a child very much, but that I was the one unwilling.

Over time, my in-laws, who already held a low opinion of me, grew increasingly disdainful and even suspected that the issue was with me. They even insisted on dragging me to undergo medical tests.

The results came back showing that I was in excellent health. However, under Fiona's influence, they continued to believe that the problem lay with me.

Seeing that I didn't answer, my father-in-law said, "Howard, it’s not that I’m criticizing you. It’s normal to have fun when you’re young, but now that you're older, you should be thinking about having a child, right?"

This should be said to Fiona.

I smirked inwardly but maintained a smile on my face. “Dad, Mom, it’s not that I’m unwilling to have children. It’s just that Fiona…”

I pretended to hesitate and my mother-in-law looked skeptical. “That can’t be right. Fiona really likes children.”

I continued, “Dad, Mom, I understand your good intentions, but Fiona… she’s probably quite busy. She works late every day and comes home exhausted, so she doesn’t really have time.”

I had long known that Fiona never went to work. I intentionally said this for my in-laws to hear. As expected, their faces changed instantly upon hearing my words.

My father-in-law slammed his hand on the table in anger. “Nonsense! Does she think she’s still in her twenties? Going to nightclubs every day—how is that appropriate?”

My mother-in-law hurriedly said, “Fiona is your daughter. How can you speak about your own daughter like that?”

My father-in-law grew even angrier. “It’s all because you spoil her! If you hadn’t indulged Fiona so much, she wouldn’t be like this!”

“Why is it always my fault?” my mother-in-law retorted. “Don’t you, as her father, bear any responsibility?”

My father-in-law and mother-in-law argued fiercely over Fiona’s nightclub habits. Instead of intervening, I simply watched the drama unfold.

Eventually, exhausted from their argument, they asked me to call Fiona to come home. Knowing she would never answer while having fun, I made the call anyway. As expected, she didn’t pick up. This only worsened their mood, and in the end, they decided to go to the nightclub themselves to bring Fiona back.