Zhou Xiangping had laid out a table full of delicious dishes to entertain Duan Zhibin. The whole family sat around the table, smug and satisfied.
“Binzi, can’t we just not give her anything at all?”
Zhou Xiangping felt the house should completely belong to themselves. Even if only a small part was going to be split off—after all the deception and manipulation—her heart still ached.
Lin Jiajia chimed in from the side, “Exactly! She didn’t even want to give birth to Xiaoliang’s child. Why should she get more than 200,000?”
Zhang Jun shot her a glare. Lin Jiajia pressed her lips together and went to peel shrimp for her son, staying quiet.
“Xiaoliang, what do you think?”
Zhang Liang had already made up his mind on the way home. “Mom, over the years, my salary has been going into your account. At least 500,000 by now. Why not just give her the 200,000? It’s over. She had an abortion, and I don’t want it to get messy.”
Zhou Xiangping and Zhang Jun exchanged a glance and smirked, raising their glasses but not saying more.
Zhang Jun poured a drink for Zhang Liang, who held it carefully with both hands.
“Xiaoliang, if you ask me, it’s better to just sell this house.”
Zhang Liang frowned. When they bought the house, they had considered the kids’ schooling—good schools from kindergarten to middle school were nearby. The neighborhood was popular, and the floor they got was thanks to Zhao Panpan’s connections. They even got a discount. Selling it would make finding another such perfect place difficult.
“Think about it. In the future, when you date and marry again, if the new family knows you fought a legal battle over this house, they’ll feel uncomfortable. No woman wants to live in a house she bought with her husband’s ex. I’m telling you this for your own good,” his older brother added.
Zhang Liang frowned again. His brother made a fair point.
Zhou Xiangping joined in, “Exactly, exactly. Once your future wife knows, there’ll definitely be arguments.”
Zhang Jun nudged under the table with his foot. Duan Zhibin swallowed his food and nodded in agreement. “Yeah, brother. If you want to close the chapter completely, it’s best to handle the house now. We all know what this house really means. Selling it and getting cash is the only way to have it truly in your hands.”
Zhang Liang looked at the family’s expectant eyes and finally nodded in agreement.
Duan Zhibin helped list the house, and soon buyers were coming to see it. The family was already planning how to spend the money once it came in.
While the Zhang family was busy with the house sale, Zhao Panpan went to the gynecologist.
“Your uterine wall is thin. If you have an abortion, there’s a risk of incomplete removal, which could affect future fertility,” the doctor said, looking at the ultrasound. “You had a threatened miscarriage and needed hospitalization, but the embryo is healthy. Since this is your first child after marriage and there isn’t much financial pressure, you might want to consider keeping the baby. Children and parents… sometimes it’s fate.”
Zhao Panpan felt a heavy weight in her chest. She had spent countless nights dreaming of a home with Zhang Liang, of having a child and a happy family life.
She had imagined leaving work behind after having a child, being a devoted wife and mother, giving the child a loving home, nurturing them with care.
“I’m getting divorced,” she said.
The doctor frowned. A pregnant woman seeking divorce must have suffered a lot—so much that she couldn’t endure the harm of the marriage even for her child.
“Children in single-parent families aren’t necessarily worse off. With enough love, they can grow up healthier and happier than children in families where the father is absent.”
Zhao Panpan forced a small smile, grateful for the advice.
But she still insisted on terminating the pregnancy.
She had grown up without parental love and had no idea what it meant to be a mother who could give her child courage and strength.
She remembered being a child, frozen during assignments like “My Dad” or “My Mom.” At first, she left them blank and got scolded, and her grades slipped. Later, she copied from storybooks, imagining what parents should be like—picking her up from school, cooking good meals.
But her reality was different. She went home alone in the rain and wind, cooked for the family, worked all year round, and faced classmates’ judgment.
If she had parents who loved her, they would have noticed the marks left by bullying at school, stood up for her, been her support.
She had none. No mother, no father.
She had grown up carrying a heavy burden, stumbling through life in darkness.
Sometimes she chased a glimmer of hope, only to realize it was false.
She didn’t want her child to grow up writing about an imagined father, just like she had.
“Doctor, schedule the procedure,” she said firmly.
The doctor saw her resolve and stopped arguing. He quickly prepared the necessary paperwork. “Come fasting tomorrow morning. After the check-up, if everything is okay, we’ll proceed. Wear loose, comfortable clothing. Bring someone to accompany you and prepare easily digestible food to avoid low blood sugar after the procedure.”
Zhao Panpan held the paperwork, her mind blank. The doctor’s words barely registered.
She had once dreamed so much, and now the pain was unbearable.
Her life had always been full of thorns, a constant ache that had numbed her. Perhaps that was all she was meant to endure.
Love, family, children—maybe she would never have them in this lifetime.
She walked out like a ghost, pushed along by the crowd waiting for the elevator, and finally took the emergency stairwell.
The gynecology ward was a place of mixed emotions.
Gynecology meant illness, life slipping away.
Obstetrics meant birth, new beginnings, hope for the future.
At least, that’s what she had always believed.
But in the stairwell, she heard heart-wrenching cries.
“After the tenth IVF attempt, it still failed. I’m so tired.”
“Why is having a child so hard? I’ve taken all the medication, done all the injections… Honey, can we try one more time? I don’t want to give up so easily.”
“I’ve spent tens of thousands and still can’t get pregnant. I can’t handle this anymore. Let’s divorce. If I’d known you couldn’t have kids, I never would have married you!”
When the couple saw Zhao Panpan, they paused their argument to let her pass. But the woman’s sobs still pierced the air.
Zhao Panpan went down a floor, and the shouting continued above.
Even in the obstetrics ward, pain was unavoidable…