I was delivering takeout in a torrential downpour and ran late. Then my wife sent me a message, calling me home to sign the divorce papers. “Zhou Mo, a good-for-nothing like you deserves to spend your whole life with your electric scooter!” At the Civil Affairs Bureau, she tore up our marriage certificate and threw it in my face. Suddenly, twenty helicopters tore through the rain, while a fleet of stretch limousines blocked off the entire street. The butler knelt in the rain, holding up a share certificate. “Young master, the trillion-yuan conglomerate is waiting for you to inherit it!” His ex-wife tremblingly picked up the soaked scraps of paper. They were the “family test notification” she had thrown into the trash with her own hands just yesterday.
