My husband wants a divorce, so I roll up my sleeves and go after the mistress—only to find out that she's a 48-year-old woman.

I was bewildered.

"Are you lacking in maternal love?"

My husband sobbed, his nose running as he told me, "She washes my feet and even cradles them in her arms. She's my true love."

Ugh...

I almost vomited my New Year's Eve dinner.

"Disgusting people deserve disgusting things. Don’t blame me when I deal with both of you."

After a few days of moping around, my husband finally came to talk.

"I want a divorce. I’ve found my true love!"

Wait a minute.

Is this how people talk when they cheat these days? All so dignified and proper?

"Not happening!"

I was still a bit dazed, but my body was already on its way to confront the mistress.

"I thought you were working overtime and didn't come home because you were finally realizing that you deserved better than a salary of 3,000 a month. Turns out, you were just saving this grand move for me."

Ethan Reed nervously blocked my path.

"Don’t do this. It’s embarrassing in front of the company building."

What do you mean embarrassing? It's a disgrace to have any shame left.

"How can you still show your face? Your son is eight years old now, old enough to understand, and you're out there cheating?"

He anxiously tried to explain.

"I never felt anything for her before, but when we went on a business trip, she brought me a basin of warm water for my feet. We’ve been married for ten years, and you’ve never once washed my feet!"

So it's my fault now?

I widened my eyes, listening to the gossip with growing excitement.

In fact, I kind of wanted the mistress to wash my feet too, just to see if they really had this magical effect.

"Wait, you two got together just because she washed your feet?"

Ethan was so emotional, he was almost crying.

"She cradled my feet in her arms! Not even my mother has ever treated me like that!"

What could I possibly say to that?

"Are you lacking maternal love?"

That was a heavy statement. As a modern, independent woman, I certainly wasn’t about to wash anyone’s feet.

"So I have to get a divorce!"

Ethan seemed like he had made up his mind, gathering all his courage to bring up the divorce in front of his company building.

So urgent? Could it be that the mistress is pregnant?

I rolled my eyes.

I was firm.

"No way. I love you so much, how could I just let you go and push you into someone else’s arms?"

His eyes darted around in panic.

He put his hand on my shoulder. "Ivy, I know you’re worried about how the kid will handle this. Don’t worry, after we divorce, I’m not leaving the house!"

Something’s wrong with him.

"You’ve lost all your shame, but I still have some."

At that moment, it felt like I had eyes on the back of my head. I shook off his hand and turned around.

I saw a young woman in a uniform, a scarf tied neatly at the collar.

When she noticed me looking, she quickly averted her gaze.

I wrapped my arms around my husband’s neck, pretending to be affectionate.

But my lips slowly parted, delivering the coldest words.

"It’s her, isn’t it? She’s got a great figure, but her face... not so much."

Ethan jumped back in shock, quickly pushing me away.

“What are you talking about? There’s no woman!”

I turned around and linked my arm through his.

My fingers brushed against the strands of hair by his ear.

“Your mistress is probably watching us from up ahead.”

“No… no…”

This time, he stopped struggling, taking a deep breath to compose himself.

“Not good to be seen like this, especially not outside the office.”

There was a time when Ethan used to kiss me right here.

I told him I was worried our bosses might see.

He’d laugh it off, saying it’s after hours, who’s going to notice us?

Ten years had passed in the blink of an eye.

Our child was already eight.

Yet he was still stuck in the system, happily working his low-paying job with a monthly salary of three thousand.

What he didn’t know was that our son was taking fencing lessons, one class costing a thousand bucks.

In hindsight, it was worth it—this was the kind of scumbag who deserved a sword to the back.

Ethan’s phone rang suddenly.

He glanced at the screen, then at me.

“Is she calling you? Go ahead, I won’t say a word.”

“Hello? I’ll be right there.”

I tilted my head. “What is it? Something important?”

“Yeah, work-related. I need to go quickly, can’t have lunch with you today.”

Without a second glance, he rushed into the building.

He used to rush to me with that same urgency.

A sharp pain gripped my stomach.

My stomach’s fragile—if I don’t eat on time, it hurts.

Now seeing that scumbag just made it worse.

I hadn’t even finished my cake when someone sat down in front of me.

I looked up, and to my surprise, it was that woman from earlier.

At first, I thought her face wasn’t that great from far away, but up close, it wasn’t that it was bad.

She was just… old.

“Are you fifty?”

I leaned forward a little.

She seemed shocked by my boldness.

“Do you know who I am?”

Was there any reason I wouldn’t?

“You’re the mistress my husband found, the one who gives foot massages, right?”

I twirled the jade bracelet around my wrist, instinctively pushing my hand forward.

“You’re still young, but you can’t keep a man’s heart. Ethan loves me now. Better move aside.”

Her words stung.

“I’m not in a rush. How about you wait until my son finishes his exams? It won’t be long, maybe another ten years, huh?”

She slammed her coffee cup down on the table.

The bottom of the cup hit my jade bracelet.

“Bang.”

The sound was sharp.

The bracelet snapped in two and fell to the ground.

The waiter quickly picked up the broken pieces.

“Wow, this bracelet’s so high-quality. It’s broken, I can’t pay for that. Should I call the police for you?”

The mistress jumped up in panic, her contempt evident.

“A broken bracelet, how much could it be worth? Maybe eight or ten thousand at most.”

Those eyes of hers were only good for washing feet.

I pulled out two hundred bucks and handed it to the waiter.

She was startled, looking at me in disbelief.

“Don’t refuse, it’s a tip. With your taste, you’ll be wearing something like this one day.”

The mistress was left stunned by my bold move.

She pointed at the money in the waiter’s hand, her words getting tangled up in her throat.

“You just gave her two hundred bucks? Does Ethan even make enough for you to waste like this?”

I slowly leaned back in my chair.

“If I don’t spend it, would you prefer that the mistress spends it instead?”

Her face paled.

“Be honest, let’s part ways without any drama. Don’t make a scene.”

“I won’t let you get away with it!”

She raised her hand and called the police.

She struggled, “Why call the police over such a small thing?”

I extended my phone, showing the payment screen.

“This bracelet isn’t even that valuable. I got it at a Sotheby’s auction last month—over ten million.”

As soon as she heard it was worth over ten million, her panic set in.

She quickly dialed Ethan.

Crying, she begged, “Your wife is framing me! She’s saying I broke the bracelet and wants me to pay over ten million!”

I was wearing a ten million-dollar bracelet, which was clearly beyond Ethan’s understanding.

He frowned as he looked at me.

“Don’t stir up trouble, just go home and pick up the kid.”

I glanced at the time. “The kid’s graduating from kindergarten. It’s not three o’clock, I’m supposed to pick him up.”

Ethan’s face turned red. He handed me the broken pieces of the bracelet.

“I’ll pay you back for this later. There are too many people watching. You two should leave. It’s embarrassing.”

I had proof. What was there to be embarrassed about?

Remembering this, I straightened up, standing tall.

“Fine, ten million one hundred and five thousand. Let me know when you transfer the money.”

“You’re wearing a ten-million-dollar bracelet? Ivy, have you lost your mind?”

A man with a monthly salary of three thousand certainly doesn't know that I've gone from being an ignorant young mother to a CEO of a listed company, casually spending millions without batting an eye.

He doesn’t care. He thinks three thousand is enough to support our whole family.

What he doesn't know is that over the years, we've changed houses, bought new cars, and enrolled our child in a new school—all with money I earned.

When the police came to mediate, I stood firm, my voice unwavering.

"Whoever you are, you owe me compensation!"

The mistress clearly stated she couldn’t afford it. "Why don’t you just sue me then?"

Our company's legal department is always idle.

One of this year’s small goals is to take care of you.

First, a lawyer’s letter was sent to the company.

Then, a statement was issued to the company's leadership.

Lastly, a big red banner was hung in front of the company, with a simple demand: "Pay me back!"

Ethan grabbed my arm angrily.

"Don’t go crazy. If you keep this up, I’ll fight you for custody of our son!"

Fine by me.

"Our son spends over fifty thousand a year on fencing lessons. I'll pay half from now on, and that’ll save us twenty thousand. Whoever doesn’t divorce is the fool."

Ethan hesitated.

He grabbed my hand, pleading.

"Ivy, I know you're angry, but let's part on good terms. I’ll get the divorce certificate, but I won’t leave the house. It’ll be just like before, okay?"

The housekeeper had made lobster and abalone for dinner.

Just as Ethan reached for some, I slapped his chopsticks away.

"Want some? Buy it yourself!"

Our son giggled.

"Isn’t Dad’s favorite food lobster?"

"No, your dad’s favorite is eating shit!"

My in-laws sensed the tension and tried to laugh it off as they finished their meal.

They asked me what was going on.

I shook my head.

"Nothing at all."

As for Ethan, who was sleeping in the study, I had a lot of grievances to vent.

I tortured the old folks all night.

The next day, after my mother-in-law dropped off the kid, she told me, "You two need to get divorced. We’re on your side."

Did she think I was an easy target when I was eighteen?

No dowry, no house, and we were still living in a rented place after having a child. If it weren't for those years of picking up and dropping off the kid, I'd have turned my back on him long ago.

"Have you ever heard of a divorce where the ex-mother-in-law stays in the house?"

"Ethan's just busy with work, his mind's a bit foggy. If you beg him, he’ll surely reconcile with you."

My mother-in-law’s terrible advice still had her thinking about her son.

I smiled and held her hand.

"Why don’t you beg him? Tell him that his mistress is already the same age as his mother. I don’t know whether to call her daughter-in-law or just a big sister!"

My father-in-law’s face turned dark, but after a pause, he spoke.

"Living together with no meaning is pointless. You two should divorce now and move on."

That was laughable.

I tilted my head. "Mom, Dad, look, our son’s grown up. Your son is going to find you a new daughter-in-law. As for my house, you two shouldn’t stay there anymore!"

"You’re out of your mind! This house belongs half to my son! Why shouldn’t we live here? Now you want to kick us out? No way!"

My father-in-law had quite the temper.

If Ethan had inherited even half of it, he wouldn’t be so pitiful.

"This house belongs to the company. My dad is the legal representative! I think you’d better go home and clean up your demolition house. If you want me to divorce, I'll leave you one of the three houses. The other two are mine."

"You’re dreaming! You think you can just do whatever you want now?"

Right! I didn’t rebel in middle school, but now, out of nowhere, it feels damn good!

My mother-in-law stepped forward to stop me. "Oh, we’re family, why are you fighting? How embarrassing!"

I opened the window and shouted outside. "What’s embarrassing about divorce? It’s having a mistress that’s embarrassing, especially an old mistress!"