Volume One, Chapter 12: If You Don’t Divorce, You’ll Step on Dog Poop

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Rong Shaoqin never expected that his grandmother would actually ask him to divorce Sang Haining. A sudden, sharp pang gripped his chest so fiercely that it stole his breath away. At that very moment, he recalled the conversation he had by the big tree outside the restaurant with his secretary. Abandoning any attempt to explain, he spoke in a low, steady voice, "You favor Haining and think she’s good to me, but you don’t realize she’s just playing along. Divorce is for the best—forced marriages never bear sweet fruit; it’s better to avoid mutual torment."

"What nonsense are you spouting?" Grandma Rong, originally just angry and speaking out of spite, hadn’t expected that after his mistakes, Rong Shaoqin would neither repent nor show remorse but instead turn the blame around and slander her obedient granddaughter-in-law.

Besides, even if it was all an act, Sang Haining had been managing the household diligently. Meanwhile, her grandson was clearly benefiting from her care, yet he spoke such words now.

Fuming, Grandma Rong grabbed a slipper, ready to strike Rong Shaoqin’s head. Luckily, a servant intervened just in time, or his face would have been marked with the imprint of the slipper.

Rong Shaoqin said coolly, "We were forced into this marriage from the start. It’s better to divorce. Once divorced, life will be peaceful."

Grandma Rong’s blood pressure soared with anger. "Fine. That’s your choice. By the day after tomorrow at the latest, you’ll go with Haining to get the divorce papers. If you dare to back out, then… then you’ll step on dog poop when you leave the house and kneel overnight at the ancestral hall."

Being his grandmother, she couldn’t think of a more vicious curse or punishment.

Rong Shaoqin’s heart was clogged with resentment. Thinking that Sang Haining’s kindness was all a façade, he couldn’t help but feel furious. In moments of impulse, people often act irrationally. So he simply stood still, silently digesting the weight pressing upon his heart.

The two of them—one sitting silently on the sofa in anger, the other standing not far off, frowning slightly with a wandering mind.

Suddenly, the vibration of a phone shattered the silence.

Rong Shaoqin took out his phone. It was a message from Sang Haining.

But the sender was not Sang Haining herself.

It was Sang Haining’s friend, Shen Chuyi: “Mr. Rong, I’m Haining’s friend Shen Chuyi. Could you please come to the hospital? Haining has had an accident.”

Rong Shaoqin’s expression changed drastically.

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Just an hour earlier, to celebrate Sang Haining’s birthday, Shen Chuyi had cooked a meal herself—four dishes and a soup.

Sang Haining loved mushrooms.

By coincidence, Shen Chuyi had a friend in Yunnan who had recently sent some mushrooms, and she tried cooking a dish following the recipe.

It was her first time cooking, to be honest, not very tasty, and some parts weren’t fully cooked. But Sang Haining didn’t want to spoil the mood and took a few bites.

Thankfully, the dessert and red wine were delicious, so her palate wasn’t tormented.

Halfway through the meal, Shen Chuyi noticed something was wrong.

Sang Haining suddenly ran to the kitchen, clutching a scallion and calling out to her grandmother, speaking strange and incoherent words.

Shen Chuyi was terrified, her hair standing on end, and she quickly drove Sang Haining to the hospital.

The doctors said Sang Haining had eaten poisonous mushrooms, which caused hallucinations.

Fortunately, she hadn’t eaten much, and the toxicity was mild, so there was no serious danger.

Shen Chuyi sat beside the hospital bed, her eyes downcast. “Haining, I’m sorry. I wanted to cook you a meal myself, but I didn’t expect the mushrooms to be poisonous.”

“You almost turned my birthday into a death day,” Sang Haining said teasingly, not angry.

Feeling guilty, Shen Chuyi said, “I’ll never cook again. Please don’t tell the Rong family it was me who caused your food poisoning. I’m afraid Grandma Rong will find out and come after me.”

Sang Haining certainly wouldn’t tell Grandma Rong. The elderly woman was already old; if she were to find out, it would only cause trouble. That guilt was on her.

“Don’t worry. I won’t say a word,” Sang Haining said, patting Shen Chuyi’s hand.

Shen Chuyi nodded.

As they talked, the hospital room door suddenly swung open.

Turning to see who it was, they found Sang Zhaoting standing there.

Sang Haining’s face instantly turned cold. “What are you doing here?”

The father and daughter met as if they were enemies.

Sang Zhaoting, seeing how pale Sang Haining looked, sneered, “I thought I was mistaken, but it really is you. What, you saw Shaoqin buying a diamond ring for his lover and thought your husband was unreliable, so you got so upset you had to be hospitalized?”

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A few days ago, Sang Zhaoting, as a father, had personally visited Sang Haining, hoping she would support the Sang family’s business.

Unexpectedly, Sang Haining not only refused to help but mocked him coldly and even had the servants chase him away.

He couldn’t swallow that humiliation.

When he saw the trending news about Rong Shaoqin buying a diamond ring for his lover while passing by the hospital, he followed Sang Haining in.

Taking the opportunity, Sang Zhaoting continued his cold taunts. “I told you, your natal family is your true backing. You refused to listen. Now, not only does your husband have a mistress, but you’ve alienated your own family. Let’s see who will stand by you next.”

“Are you even capable of standing by anyone?” Sang Haining sneered. “I bet if Rong Shaoqin coughs once, your back won’t hold, and your knees will hit the floor first.”

Sang Haining was soft-natured and polite to others, but that didn’t mean she was easy to bully. With a scoundrel like Sang Zhaoting for a father, she owed him no courtesy.

Fuming, Sang Zhaoting’s face turned red as he argued back.

As the conflict worsened, Shen Chuyi stood protectively in front of Sang Haining, quietly using Sang Haining’s phone to message Rong Shaoqin.

While waiting for Rong Shaoqin’s response, Sang Zhaoting’s words grew increasingly vile, and Sang Haining, frail in health, was at a disadvantage.

Initially, Shen Chuyi had restrained herself out of respect for Sang Zhaoting’s seniority, but now she couldn’t hold back.

Suddenly sitting up, she pointed at Sang Zhaoting’s nose and scolded, “You abandoned your wife and child, treating them like nothing. You shamelessly use your late wife’s belongings as a pretext to beg Haining for favors. If it were me, I wouldn’t just beat you—I’d tie a rope around your neck and drag you around outside. You wouldn’t even feel wronged.

Who do you think you are, acting all high and mighty just because you’re older? You forget how much your late wife and Haining cared for you, yet you betrayed them so blatantly, bringing a mistress and an illegitimate child into the family. And now you have the nerve to criticize Haining? Do you even know what it means to be unchaste?”

Shen Chuyi’s words were far sharper than Sang Haining’s, firing off like a Gatling gun.

Sang Zhaoting was left sputtering, covered in spit, unable to find a chance to retort.

Just as Shen Chuyi was in full flow, she noticed the doorknob turn.

Then, she collapsed onto the bed, burying her face in Sang Haining’s arm, sobbing, “Poor Haining, on such a happy day as your birthday, you drown your sorrows in drink until you bled from your stomach. Just when things were quiet, this shameless wretch shows up to kick you when you’re down. Why must you suffer so?”

Sang Haining looked bewildered. When had she ever drunk to drown her sorrows, let alone bled from her stomach?

What was going on?

At that moment, the door was suddenly pushed open from outside.

There stood Rong Shaoqin, his tall, upright figure framed by a flood of bright white sunlight, his handsome face unreadable, emotions veiled between anger and sorrow.