Before I could say a word, Wendy walked in with reddened eyes and threw herself into Matt's arms, overcome with emotion.

"Matt! Thank you… I never imagined you'd be willing to go this far for me…"

Crying so hard she looked pitiful, Wendy successfully dampened Matt's rage.

His gaze softened, the emotions in his eyes turning as sweet as honey. Even his voice grew gentle.

"For you, I'd do anything."

When he looked at me again, his eyes turned vicious. "Can't you see I'm a patient? Hurry up and get me something to eat."

I didn't want to, but I was his wife. We weren't divorced yet, so I had a responsibility.

The problem was, I didn't know how to cook. But he ordered me to do it anyway.

Following my memories, I went home and, step by step, followed instructions on my phone to cook some porridge, then brought it to the hospital.

He flew into a rage and dumped my food straight into the trash. "Lily, did you do this on purpose? Are you trying to kill me so you can become a widow?!"

I blinked, then that night I started sharpening a knife.

The sound of my sharpening woke Matt. When he saw the cleaver in my hand, his face went deathly pale. He screamed and ran out of the room.

After that, a nurse politely escorted me out.

But Matt was the one who said I should become a widow. I even went out of my way to look up what being widowed meant. And being widowed meant I would be free of my husband.

After being kicked out, I felt deeply regretful that I couldn't become a widow.

For a long while after that, Matt didn't call for me again, so I focused wholeheartedly on figuring out the divorce. I even drafted a divorce agreement.

Half a month later, Matt called.

"Wendy just graduated and is still a medical intern. She wants to practice surgery. Bring your mom over and let Wendy practice on her."

Mom?

Grandma once said that girls were nothing but good-for-nothings and financially burdened the family. They would eventually be married off.

Once married, your husband's mother became your real mother, and you were nothing but an outsider to your birth family. Once I got married, I was only allowed to acknowledge one mother in this life—my mother-in-law.

But my mother-in-law was Matt's real mother. Was he sure…?

I hesitated. "But what if she dies?"

He answered impatiently, "Then she dies. She should consider herself lucky that she's chosen to help Wendy practice."

I thought for a moment, then asked, "What if Mom doesn't agree?"

Matt grew even more annoyed. "Don't you know how to drug her? You were so good at drugging me last time. Can't you do it again?"

He hung up.

I tapped to end the recording.

I might be a little slow, but after hearing my situation, the lawyer felt very sorry for me. Because I'm missing a screw and only ever hear half of what's said, the lawyer was worried I wouldn't remember things. He told me to record every call with Matt.

He said it might help later when it came time to divide property.

I'm very obedient. As soon as I hung up, I sent the recording to the lawyer.

Right now, I was still Matt's wife, so I was supposed to listen to him. Grandma always said that as long as you're someone's wife, even for one day, you must listen to your husband for that day.

But the police officer said I can't break the law.

After thinking it over, I called Matt back.

"We can't do this. It's illegal."

Matt snapped impatiently, "Then bring your mom to me. I'll handle it myself."

Matt didn't give me a chance to refuse before hanging up again.

I blinked. Only then did I realize I'd forgotten to start the recording.

But it was just one or two sentences—probably not important.

I was only calling my mother-in-law to meet with her son. That should be fine, right?

I called my mother-in-law.

By the time she arrived, I headed over as well.

When I got there and went to look for her, I was told she'd already been sent into the operating room.

I was surprised. That fast?

Had Matt drugged her and sent her in? Didn't he know that was his own mother?

I went to the operating room entrance and happened to see Matt. He was holding Wendy's hand, chatting and laughing as they walked over.

I stepped forward to remind him. "Matt, do you even know who was sent into surgery?"

At that, Wendy—who had been smiling—suddenly teared up.

"If Lily doesn't want to help me, then forget it. She doesn't trust that I'm capable enough. Lily must be worried about me…"

I hurriedly waved my hands.

"No, no, that's not it. I'm just worried about Matt. After all, that's—"

Matt shoved me aside impatiently.

"What's there to worry about? It's not my mom."

I may be missing a screw, but I still had a conscience. I chased after them.

"What if the practice surgery fails? I know I'm not in a position to say this, but that's still a human life."

Matt rolled his eyes.

"Practice surgeries are risky. If she dies, she dies. Oh, right—I already signed the risk consent form on your behalf. I'm your mom's family. I have the right to sign."

I reached out to stop him.

Before I could speak, Matt shoved me hard and frowned as he shut the operating room doors.

Just before the doors closed, I saw Wendy turn and smile smugly at me, silently mouthing that she would never let my mom come out alive.

I was pushed to the ground.

I climbed back up, dusted off my pants, and shook my head helplessly.

The one receiving the practice surgery wasn't even my real mom. What was I worried about?

I hadn't expected Matt to be this ruthless. It seemed bringing up divorce had been the right decision.

The lawyer handed me the drafted divorce agreement, and I sat waiting outside the operating room.

Three hours later, they came out laughing and chatting.

Matt pulled off his mask and said to me coolly, "Lily, your mom is dead. I also had Wendy dissect her so she could study the human body."

Then he tossed me a body donation consent form. "Sign it."

With his hands in his pockets, Matt looked at me with nothing but indifference. "What kind of compensation do you want? Say it, and I'll give it to you."

I shook my head.

"I can't sign this. Only you can—you're her son."

I quickly handed him the divorce agreement.

"You don't like me, and we're not suited to be husband and wife. Let's get divorced."

Matt's eyes darkened sharply. "So your compensation is divorce? And taking half of my assets?"

He slammed the divorce agreement hard into my face. "I didn't expect this, Lily. You're more calculating than I thought. Every clause your lawyer wrote is airtight. But why should my property go to you? If you want a divorce, fine—but only if you leave with nothing."

I answered honestly, "The lawyer said this is my right."

Thinking of what Grandma always said—that once a woman marries, she should put her husband's family first—I added, "I'm doing this for your own good. If something happens to you, at least you'll still have half your assets. Otherwise, you might end up with nothing."

He clenched his teeth and shouted that I was cursing him.

Wendy stepped in, looking aggrieved.

"Matt, this is all my fault. I was too foolish and messed up during practice. Lily must be blaming me; that's why she wants to divorce you."

She sobbed as she spoke, then said she would give her life to repay my mother. Crying, she even made as if to rush toward the window.

Matt grabbed her and coaxed her gently. "Wendy, don't do this. It hurts me to see you like this."

As he comforted her, Wendy fainted. His gaze toward me grew even more hateful as he swept her up into his arms.

Then he barked at me viciously, "There's no way I'm giving you half. If you want compensation, I can give you a little—some assets. But anything related to the company? Don't even think about touching it!"

Unhappy, I went back to the lawyer and explained the situation.

The lawyer gave me another divorce agreement. This one no longer divided the assets in half.

Matt's company was worth billions, with enormous cash flow and monthly net profits in the millions.

He also owned a great deal of fixed property.

This new agreement divided the fixed assets, giving me two-thirds of them, and allocated another portion of liquid assets. Compared to company shares, it was less—but far more practical.

I didn't understand, so the lawyer explained: first, ask for the moon; then, when you make a second demand, they're more likely to agree.

I took the new divorce agreement and went to Matt.

He glanced at it impatiently, then even praised me for being sensible.

After signing, he said, "This is your compensation. Hurry up and sign the death certificate paperwork and take your mom away."

The divorce proceedings take one month to complete.

Hearing that, I truly didn't understand.

Hadn't he even looked at his mother's face during the dissection?

I said, "Matt, I can't sign this, and I can't take her away. You're her son—only you can sign."

"Take her or don't. If you don't, she'll stay in the morgue forever!" Matt impatiently drove me out.

I went home, packed a few changes of clothes, and left.

He never contacted me again. Instead, Wendy kept posting on social media, showing off how well Matt treated her—where they traveled, what they did.

She said it was because her practice surgery had failed, and he was taking her out to relax.

A month later, the divorce proceedings were finalized, and all assets had been transferred.

Matt and Wendy arrived at the courthouse hand in hand.

As soon as he got the divorce certificate, Wendy immediately registered their marriage.

She flaunted the marriage certificate in front of me, deliberately hugging and kissing Matt right before my eyes.

Just then, a doctor called Matt, urging him, "Mr. Rayden, your mother's body has been in the morgue for a month now. When will you come to claim it?"

Matt's expression changed instantly.