The name "Lin Zhiwan" on the divorce agreement wasn't signed by her.
The day she was thrown out with nothing, it rained all over the city. She didn't cry or make a scene. She did just one thing: carried every document in the house away and went through them, box by box.
She had thought that after seven years of marriage, she was a wife who wanted no money. But those papers told her that every account she had handled and every form she had signed was still there. She checked the Shen family's building materials business, finance office, and old account books, line by line. Some of the handwriting wasn't hers.
She began going from one place to another, asking questions. Who signed? Who handled it? What exactly happened that winter?
The Shen family began to make moves, too. Legal notices, records reviews, people sent to deliver messages. One after another, they came down on her.
She didn't look back, and she didn't ask for more. She only wanted to settle the accounts from these past few years.
As for Shen Zhi, when would he finally understand that the day she walked out, she had no intention of coming back?
