Chapter 12 — My Husband Brought His Ex Home

She lunged and missed, my father stepping firmly in front of me to shield my body.

What more could you possibly want from us?

Han Hao stared fixedly at the young woman, his voice trembling uncontrollably. What on earth did my father tell you to look for?

Fang Xiao Hui wept softly, shaking her head in despair. Hao, I truly had no idea. Your uncle told me to come and retrieve it. He said the card belonged to your family and that Zhi Xia had hidden it away.

I let out a cold, bitter laugh. I hid something belonging to your family? Hidden inside the private drawer of my own master bedroom?

Han Hao’s face drained of all color. He spun around and marched toward the entrance, reaching for the door handle. Before he could turn it, the property manager stepped forward to block his path.

Mr. Han, Ms. Xu has formally requested a temporary suspension of door-opening privileges for anyone who is not the registered homeowner. You are not permitted to enter at this time.

Han Hao snapped his head back, glaring at me with a desperate fury. Xu Zhi Xia, you are going to deny me entry to my own home?

I looked him straight in the eye. From the very moment you allowed Fang Xiao Hui to rifle through my bedside table, you forfeited any right to ever step foot in here again.

The whites of his eyes were completely bloodshot. I had nothing to do with this, I swear I didn't even know.

I fired back without hesitation. Then how did your father know precisely what was hidden inside my bedside drawer?

My question struck like a physical blow, leaving him utterly speechless. I pulled the keys from my pocket and unlocked the door. My father immediately reached out to steady my arm.

I am coming inside with you.

The property manager offered his assistance as well. Ms. Xu, I can record the entire inspection on video for your protection.

I nodded in acknowledgment. The moment the heavy oak door swung open, the pungent smell of an unfamiliar, cheap perfume still lingered heavily in the air. The living room was in utter disarray, looking as though it had been ransacked by intruders. The greasy dishes Chu Lan Chi had left behind before departing still sat upon the dining table, a thick layer of congealed oil hardening over the surface. I paid them no mind. I walked straight toward the master bedroom.

The second drawer of the bedside table had been pulled halfway out. My personal document folder, old photo albums, and several of my bank passbooks were strewn haphazardly about. I knelt down onto the floor, carefully picking up each item one by one. Finally, my fingers brushed against a cold, hard object hidden beneath the velvet lining at the very bottom.

It was a solid black bank card. It certainly did not belong to me. A small slip of white paper was taped neatly to the back, bearing three handwritten characters: Han De Hai.

My father’s expression turned utterly grim, the veins in his temples throbbing. The property manager kept his phone raised, recording every detail, his voice tightening with tension.

Ms. Xu, should this card be handed over to the police immediately?

Yes, hand it over, I replied.

Standing by the threshold, Han Hao caught sight of the black card, and his face turned whiter than a sheet of blank paper. How could this possibly be here?

I turned my gaze toward him. That is precisely what I would like to know. Why is your father’s bank card hidden away inside the furniture of my bedroom?

He stood frozen, completely devoid of an answer. Suddenly, Fang Xiao Hui began to wail loudly from the hallway outside. I honestly had no idea about any of this! Uncle only said that if I retrieved the card for him, he would give me one hundred thousand and make sure I left the city right away.

One hundred thousand. The moment those words escaped her lips, Han Hao whipped his head around. Xiao Hui, what did you just say?

Realizing there was no longer any way to conceal the truth, Fang Xiao Hui simply wept even harder, burying her face in her hands. Hao, I had no alternative. When I returned from abroad, I was drowning in a sea of debt. Your aunt told me your family had a spacious home and that I could stay here. Your uncle promised that as long as I obediently followed his instructions, your family would take care of me in the future. I genuinely believed that Zhi Xia would eventually come around and accept me.

Listening to her made my stomach churn violently. Accept her. They had actually, truly believed that I would graciously welcome a woman who dragged luggage and paraded a dog into my house, bearing the undeniable status of her former lover.

The police arrived swiftly. This time, the officer from earlier was accompanied by two additional colleagues. The bank card, the incriminating text messages on Fang Xiao Hui’s phone, and the clear signs of forced searching inside the apartment were all carefully documented and logged into evidence.

Han De Hai was quickly summoned back upstairs. Even as he crossed the threshold, he was still shouting curses at the top of his lungs. Xu Zhi Xia, just how much longer do you intend to make a scene?

Yet the moment his eyes landed upon the black bank card resting on the table, his tirade cut off instantly, plunging the room into a dead silence.

The police officer stepped forward, holding up the card. Is this yours?

Han De Hai’s eyes darted nervously around the room. It is mine. What of it? I left it at my son’s home, surely that is not a crime.

This is my home, I interrupted coldly. Furthermore, the place where you stored it was the bedside table inside my personal master bedroom.

Han De Hai stiffened his neck, stubbornly arguing his case. I am an old man, I simply placed it there by mistake out of sheer habit.

The officer stared at him with sharp, unyielding eyes. Then why did you instruct Miss Fang to come here in the middle of the night to retrieve it? And why did you specifically warn her that Miss Xu must not find out about it?

The flesh around Han De Hai’s jaw twitched violently. Before he could formulate a response, Han Hao suddenly blurted out a question that cut through the tension.

Father, what money is actually kept on that card?

Han De Hai glared daggers at him. Shut your foolish mouth!

Yet Han Hao looked as though those words had dealt him a crushing, irreversible blow. He lunged forward, snatching the bank card from the table with trembling fingers. Is this the demolition compensation money that Mother mentioned?

My heart skipped a beat. Demolition compensation.

At that exact fraction of a second, the color drained completely from Han De Hai’s face, leaving it the shade of ash.