On the day my son got married, I happened to turn sixty.
I took the day off in advance and put on the new clothes I'd just bought, but my son invited his father's dance partner onto the stage and called her Mom.
My son looked at me with disgust:
"Mom, you're the cleaner here. If everyone finds out you're my mother, what will they think of me?"
I refused, and my husband, Chen Shou'an, slapped me right there and said:
"Stop making trouble for no reason. Take a look at yourself. You're embarrassing our child!"
At that moment, I finally decided to get a divorce.
My son didn't take me seriously. "Mom, at your age, what man would want you after you leave Dad?"
I turned around and impulsively married Lao Wang, the man who mopped the floors.
When Chen Shou'an found out, he sneered disdainfully. "Two lousy cleaners. A broken pot has its broken lid. You'll regret this one day."
But later, Chen Shou'an was cheated by his dance partner out of the one million yuan in betrothal gifts and retirement savings he'd set aside for our son. He knelt in the square, begging me for help.
Lao Wang put his arm around mine as we climbed into a limited-edition Maserati.
Before they could say a word, the bodyguards behind us efficiently threw them out. "Don't disturb the chairwoman's rest."
