I died framed by my own wife.
Lin Xiwei—the nation's most renowned lawyer—had orchestrated my ruin.
She accused me of raping and murdering one of my students, planting false evidence, twisting every fact, all to protect her adopted brother, Shen Wu.
She presented her "truth" to the court with cold precision. Every word, every gesture, drove the knife deeper into my life.
And in one verdict, everything I had built—the years of work, the dreams, the love I gave—crumbled.
Ten years. No parole. I couldn't breathe. Couldn't believe it. All for a crime I didn't commit.
I turned to her, desperate, trembling, and grabbed her by the shoulders. "Why? Why would you do this to me?" I screamed, my voice raw and breaking. "I've never hurt you, never wronged you. I loved you! I would have given you everything! And yet… you destroy me. All for your brother?"
Tears streamed down my face as I shook her, searching for any sign of the woman I once knew. "WHY?!"
Before she could answer, the police seized me, dragging me away. I fought, shouting the same word over and over: Why?
Shen Wu stood there, smirking like a predator. Our eyes locked, and he leaned close, whispering two words that cut through me like glass: "You lost." He waved mockingly and stepped back.
I snapped. Every ounce of restraint shattered. I shoved the officers aside, lunging at him. "You're going to pay for this! I'll make you suffer! I will never forget this pain!"
They yanked me away, and I was dragged from the court, rage and heartbreak burning through me.
Two days later.
I trudged through the prison corridors, handcuffed, bruised, every step a reminder of my helplessness. My eyes met hers through the glass, and disgust twisted in my chest. The woman I loved. The woman I trusted. The woman who destroyed me.
I picked up the phone, my voice icy. "Why are you here? To mock me? To lie again?"
Tears streaked down her face. "I… I didn't mean for this to happen. I promised my father I'd protect Shen Wu. I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you when you get out."
I stared at her, cold fury simmering beneath every word. Then I laughed—harsh, bitter, hollow. "Make it up to me? My life is in ruins. Everything I worked for is gone. How do you plan to repay that?"
She had no answer. Only guilt. Only fear.
I exhaled, slow and deliberate. "I don't care anymore. Draft the divorce papers. I'll sign them. Let's end this. Amicably. You don't have to see me again. Stay far away."
She pressed her hand against the glass, reaching—but I didn't look back.
I turned, my words slicing through the remnants of our past:
"I, Ye Zheng… hate you."
And I walked away. No glance. No hesitation. Just the emptiness she left behind.