My husband, Arthur, was in a car crash. He was severely injured and on the brink of death. The doctors told me resuscitation efforts would be largely futile and to prepare for the worst. Oh, I was very well prepared. I waved my hand dismissively: "Let's not trouble the hospital any further. Discontinue treatment." They issued the death certificate, canceled his ID, and hauled him off to the crematorium. Six hours later, he was nothing but a pile of ash. I patted the urn. "Arthur, oh Arthur, you truly are a good man!" Filthy rich, dying young, and passing without a will. By law, I get two-thirds of the entire estate. Could there be anyone more considerate than Arthur? 1. My husband, Arthur, died in a car accident, leaving me a massive fortune. Is there anyone more considerate than Arthur? Thinking about how considerate he was, I naturally had to return the favor. So, I called the high-end nursing home where Arthur’s parents were vacationing and instructed the attending physician to run every single top-tier test and administer the most expensive nutritional supplements available. Losing a son is a huge blow. What if the two elderly folks couldn't handle it? I needed to help them fortify their health in advance. And then there was his little mistress. While Arthur was alive, I turned a blind eye. Now that he’s dead, it's time to settle scores and collect debts. I took a moving company straight to her place, waved my hand, and ordered: "Move it all!" The mistress wasn't home, which made things perfectly convenient for me. Everything was sealed up, packed wholesale, and hauled away. By the time we retreated, the only thing left in the apartment besides her personal hygiene items was a bed. I didn't want that; it disgusted me. The haul was truly substantial. I spent an entire night sorting through it, picking out what I wanted and selling the rest for scrap. The old man from the scrap yard had just hauled the junk away when the police showed up at my door. "Chloe Vance? Someone reported you for burglary!" "Officers, I'm innocent! I am a law-abiding citizen!" "We'll see about that. Come with us to the station to answer a few questions." Of course I went. I didn't steal anything, so what was there to be afraid of? When I arrived, the first person I saw was Mia. The moment she saw me, she jumped up and started screaming: "Chloe, you thief! How dare you steal my things!" Watching her jump around so violently while seven months pregnant made me frown. Out of the goodness of my heart, I warned her, "Careful with your movements. If you jump so hard you lose the baby, don't try to pin it on me!" "How dare you curse my baby!" Mia simply wouldn't listen to reason. When I told her to calm down, she actually got more aggressive and even tried to hit me. What could I do? Naturally, I sought help from the police! I quickly ducked behind an officer. "Officer, help! She's trying to use her baby to frame me! You have to be my witnesses! Protect me!" The officers on duty managed to pull Mia away, looking at me with incredibly complicated expressions. I asked, "Are you guys amazed by my exceptional legal awareness? Were you just about to praise me for avoiding being framed? No need for thanks; learning the law is every citizen's duty!" Their expressions grew even more complicated. They said, "Everyone sit down. Let's clarify this theft accusation first." I was led into a small interrogation room. The officer looked stern: "Last night at 8:00 PM, what were you doing at the Grand Horizon Apartments?" "Moving." "Moving? Was it your property to move?!" He slammed the table and threw down a stack of photos. "The homeowner has pressed charges against you! You have some nerve, bringing a moving company with you. Did you think you were filming a movie?!" I guess they had never seen anyone as arrogant as me; they were almost laughing out of sheer frustration. "But the apartment is mine." I started pulling documents out of my bag: "Deed, land use permit, bank transfer receipts, my ID... Take a look, is anything missing?" Now it was the interrogator's turn to be dumbfounded. He checked the documents word by word until he finally confirmed that yes, I was indeed the homeowner. They brought Mia in, along with the property manager, and asked, "What exactly is going on here?" The property manager said, "Ms. Mia is a resident there. I'm certain; I see her all the time." Mia shrieked, "Chloe went to my house and stole my things!" 2. I curled my lip and sneered. "Mia, you really have some nerve. You were homeless, and Arthur and I took pity on you and let you stay in our apartment. What, does borrowing it make it yours? Check your conscience. You've lived there for years; have you ever paid a single cent in rent?" Mia turned pale and quickly argued, "The apartment isn't mine, but the things inside are! Officer, Chloe stole my things!" "You have the audacity to say that?" Smack. I slapped another stack of receipts onto the table. "Officer, here is the renovation invoice, the furniture purchase orders, and the payment records. You can cross-reference them with the items." After speaking politely to the officers, I turned to Mia: "Before moving, I already threw out all your dirty clothes and smelly socks. Out of all the furniture, appliances, and cabinets I moved, which one has your name on it?" The officer glared at Mia. "You claim she stole your belongings. Make a list of exactly what you lost." Mia grabbed a pen, gritting her teeth, preparing to write. I sneered from the sidelines, "Mia, you haven't worked in four or five years. I'm genuinely curious: as a broke, unemployed woman, what exactly could you have lost of any value?" Mia's face instantly went stark white. She held the pen, but couldn't manage to write a single word. I sat there, perfectly relaxed. Of course I knew what was in that apartment. Six months ago, Arthur had started preparing to divorce me, transferring assets like a rat hoarding food. He funneled a massive amount of cash through several shell accounts, converted it all into gold bars, and locked them in a safe in that apartment. The safe was hidden inside a built-in storage cabinet. I had already found it last night and moved it to a very secure location. I wasn't afraid of Mia writing it down; the problem was, even if she did, who would believe her? A woman who had to beg for a place to live, suddenly possessing a hoard of gold bars? Who did she think she was fooling? In the end, Mia slinked away, claiming she was too flustered seeing the messy room and hadn't realized her personal belongings had already been taken out by me. The police gave Mia a stern lecture. She gritted her teeth, swallowing her anger, unable to say a word. I was also reprimanded for not notifying the resident before moving, causing a misunderstanding and wasting police resources. I immediately apologized profusely and promised it would never happen again. Mia and I walked out of the police station together. I officially gave her notice: "I'm selling that apartment. I'm giving you three days to pack up and get out. Otherwise, start paying rent: $5,000 a month." "Are you trying to rob me?!" Mia exploded in anger. I gave her a side-eye. "The Grand Horizon Apartments. A massive penthouse in a prime location. You think rent there is less than $5,000? Why don't you look it up online?" Mia, of course, knew I was telling the truth. She ground her teeth and hissed, "Chloe, don't get cocky. I'm going to tell Arthur exactly what you did. Just wait until he comes looking for you!" "Oh, really?" I smiled. "You've probably already called him, haven't you? Did he answer?" Mia's expression shifted, her grip tightening on her phone. My smile grew wider. Out of the goodness of my heart, I told her, "No need to keep trying. He won't answer. Right now, he's just a pile of ash." Mia let out a piercing scream. "Chloe, how can you be so vicious?! You're cursing him to die! You two loved each other for so many years; he's your husband!" I covered my ears, frowning deeply. I waited until she finished screaming before speaking: "Oh, so you do know he's my husband. Then why are you getting so worked up? Don't you believe me? Go check the news; there should be reports about the car crash yesterday morning at 10 AM. Also, here's a copy of his cremation receipt. You can go ask the crematorium yourself." 3. I shoved the paper into Mia's hand, decisively got into my car, and drove away. Behind me, I heard Mia's shrill screams, and in the rearview mirror, I saw her clutch her stomach and collapse. I pulled out my phone, intending to dial 911, but then decided against it. We were right outside a police station; someone there would call for her. Who knows, maybe a squad car would take her directly. That would save the cost of an ambulance. I felt incredibly kind, saving precious medical resources. Returning home, I turned off my phone, took a shower, had a wonderful meal, and went to sleep. I was woken up by a call from the complex security guard. "Ms. Vance, there's a couple outside claiming to be your parents-in-law. They want to see you." Through the intercom, I could hear my mother-in-law's furious screaming: "Chloe, you heartless bitch! Arthur had barely died, and you had him cremated! Why wouldn't you let us see him one last time?! You venomous snake, get out here!" I dug at my ear with a finger and said, "Not seeing them." The house I was living in wasn't the one I shared with Arthur; I bought this one myself. The security guards had no idea who Arthur's parents were. I turned off the intercom and checked my phone. Sure enough, there were hundreds of missed calls and texts. I deleted them all with one click and turned the phone off again. The next morning, the police were at my door again. "Someone has accused you of murder. Please come with us." "I'm innocent! I am a law-abiding citizen!" I immediately cried foul again. The officer's eye twitched. "Just come with us to answer some questions first." I obediently went along. I hadn't murdered anyone, so why should I be afraid of answering some questions? When I arrived, the first person I saw was Mia again, sitting with my parents-in-law—Arthur's parents. The moment his mother saw me, she lunged at me: "Chloe, you venomous snake! You wouldn't even let me see my son one last time! You'll die a horrible death!" Seeing her jumping around so energetically, I felt incredibly gratified. All those expensive nutritional IVs at the nursing home really paid off. Out of the goodness of my heart, I showed my concern: "Mom, jump a little lighter. If your old bones fall apart, don't try to blame it on me." "You killed my son, and now you dare curse me!" Arthur's mother and Mia really were cut from the same cloth. Completely deaf to reason, wailing like banshees as she tried to tackle me. What could I do? Naturally, I sought help from the police! "Officers, help!" I quickly ducked behind a policeman. "She's using her status as my mother-in-law to attack me! This is domestic violence! Domestic violence is illegal! Protect me quickly!" The officers managed to pull Arthur's mother away, giving me that incredibly complicated look again. I asked, "Are you guys impressed by my extensive legal knowledge? I even know about domestic violence! No need for thanks; spreading legal awareness is my civic duty!" Their expressions grew even more complicated. They said, "Everyone sit down. They've accused you of being involved in a murder. Let's clarify the murder allegations first." I was led into the small interrogation room. The interrogator looked stern and tossed a piece of paper onto the table: "Your in-laws provided the accident report for your husband, Arthur. It states the cause of the crash was brake failure. They are accusing you of tampering with the brakes. What do you have to say about this?" "Yes, they're spouting nonsense!" I immediately defended myself, feeling a deep sympathy for the officers: "Officers, my in-laws are elderly and don't understand the law. Did they just come in here causing a scene without a shred of evidence, demanding you lock me up?" The interrogator's expression froze. My sympathy deepened. 4. They glared at me fiercely and continued, "Your mother-in-law claims you were responsible for the maintenance of Arthur's car, taking it in once a month. The last scheduled maintenance date was exactly three days before the crash. Are you saying you didn't notice anything wrong with the brakes?" I looked at them earnestly. "I didn't take it in for maintenance this month. Something came up and delayed me." The interrogator pressed on: "What delayed you? Think carefully before you answer. If you have nothing to hide, why did you have Arthur cremated so quickly? According to our investigation, less than six hours passed between his time of death and cremation!" He stared at me sharply. I had to admit, this was indeed the most suspicious point. If there was no foul play, why did I turn Arthur into a pile of ash so quickly? I looked back at him just as earnestly and asked, "Officer, do you need to pick an auspicious date for a cremation?" A heavy silence filled the air. Only my face radiated pure sincerity. "Answer the question!" one officer played bad cop. "Just answer what's asked. Don't answer a question with a question!" The other officer played good cop: "If you don't explain this clearly, it's going to look very bad for you. It's best if you cooperate and help us clear things up. Didn't you say you're a law-abiding citizen?" I could ignore the other comments, but could I ignore an appeal to my "law-abiding citizen" status? I had to tell the truth. "Because I was sick of him! I supported him when he started with nothing, and now that he's successful, that bastard actually wanted to divorce me! Three days ago, I was about to drive his car to the shop for maintenance, but that bastard came home and picked a massive fight with me, so I didn't go. Now that he's dead, what am I supposed to do, keep his corpse around for the holidays?! If the law allowed it, I'd use his ashes as fertilizer to grow weeds!" The officers scrutinized my face carefully and finally determined I wasn't lying. They had been waiting for me to make excuses; they hadn't expected me to be so blunt. I even offered proof: "Officers, if you don't believe me, go ask our property management. Our complex has security cameras. I even beat Arthur out the door; they all know about it." They brought in my in-laws and Mia. As soon as Mia walked in, she demanded, "Officers, did you find the proof? Chloe murdered Arthur, didn't she?!" An officer glared at her. "What does this have to do with you? What is your relationship to Arthur?" Mia choked, her face flushing bright red. She looked pitifully at Arthur's mother: "Auntie..." "This... this is my goddaughter! Arthur's godsister!" Arthur's mother stubbornly declared. "The law doesn't recognize 'god-relatives.' You have no legal relation to Arthur. Stop trying to insert yourself into every situation." Mia's face turned livid, unable to speak a single word. The police had called the property management to confirm and pulled the security footage. On the day the car was due for maintenance, Arthur had indeed come home and fought with me. Dozens of people saw me throwing things at him to chase him out. "The fact that the car wasn't maintained was caused by your son's own actions. While the cremation was swift, all procedures were entirely legal. Reporting to the police is your right, but filing false accusations without any evidence is a crime, and the law will hold you accountable. Understood?" Arthur's mother didn't care what the police said. Hearing that I wasn't responsible, she tried to lunge at me again. "Chloe, you monster! You wouldn't even let me see my son one last time!" Practice makes perfect; I swiftly ducked behind an officer again. "Mom, let's get things straight. It's not that I wouldn't let you see him. Arthur fell from a cliff over a hundred feet high. He was smashed to a bloody pulp. I almost threw up looking at it. Could I let you see that? What if you had a heart attack from the shock? Then our family would have to plan two funerals! I was doing it for your own good!" "You dare curse me to die!" Arthur's mother and Mia really must be biological mother and daughter; they even used the exact same phrases. While blocking Arthur's mother, the officer on duty glared at me. "Can you stop talking?" Absolutely! I clamped my mouth shut, demonstrating my unwavering cooperation with law enforcement. 5. Arthur's mother kept causing a scene until the police finally threatened to arrest her for disturbing the peace. Only then did she stop. When we walked out of the station, she was still glaring at me. I ignored her and turned to Mia: "Did you move out yet? I'm putting the house on the market." "Chloe, you're too cruel!" Mia immediately turned to Arthur's mother to cry. Arthur's mother didn't know what was going on. After listening to Mia's tearful explanation, she put her hands on her hips and screamed at me, "What right do you have to kick Mia out?! That's my son's house, and I say she can live there!" "That's your son's and my house. Now that your son is dead, it's considered his estate. I own two-thirds, and you and Dad combined only own one-third. How about I section off the bathroom and the balcony for her to live in?" I enthusiastically explained, "Mia, you know that house. The balcony is a 270-degree wrap-around panoramic style. It's definitely big enough to account for one-third of the square footage. I'll even throw in the bathroom for free." Arthur's mother looked like she was about to pass out from anger, pointing a bony, trembling finger at me for a long time without speaking. I couldn't be bothered being polite to this old hag. I bypassed her and issued my final ultimatum to Mia: "Tomorrow is the last day. If you don't move out, I'm changing the locks. If you can't get your stuff out then, that's your problem!" "Auntie, what am I going to do?! I'm heavily pregnant..." Mia cried, looking truly pathetic. Arthur's mother's face turned purple with rage. She grabbed Mia's hand to comfort her: "Don't worry! With your condition, it's not suitable for you to live just anywhere. Come live with me at the nursing home! There will be people to take care of you there!" Like a show of force, she grabbed Mia's hand and strutted past me arrogantly. Mia even looked back to shoot me a smug look. I hopped into my car, a massive grin spreading across my face. Perfect! Brilliant! That nursing home was far from cheap. I genuinely hoped they'd stay there forever. I called the attending physician at the nursing home: "My in-laws brought someone new, a pregnant woman. She's very precious. You must take excellent care of her. Run whatever tests you want, and give her the absolute best food and amenities!" Back home, I hired an at-home beautician for a luxurious spa treatment, drank some wine, ate a steak, and got my beauty sleep. In passing, I also mailed them the legal breakdown of the estate division. Early the next morning, I was woken up by a letter from a lawyer: "Ms. Chloe Vance, regarding the legal division of Mr. Arthur Sterling's estate, Ms. Mia asserts that the child in her womb is also entitled to a share. Ms. Mia has filed a lawsuit with the court. Please appear in court on time." Hey, court appearances! I survived a murder accusation; am I supposed to be scared of splitting some cash? I arrived at court perfectly on time. Mia, showing off her pregnant belly, proclaimed: "The baby in my stomach is Arthur's flesh and blood. He deserves a share of the estate." Me: "Really? I don't believe it." "Why wouldn't you believe it?! This is Arthur's child in my stomach!" "Show the proof," I smiled brightly. "Ever heard of a paternity test? Produce one, and I guarantee you won't be shorted a single cent." Mia's face instantly turned livid, her voice cracking: "How dare you say that! You burned Arthur into a pile of ash! Where am I supposed to get a paternity test now?!" I dragged out my response, "Oh... so you don't have one." I turned to the judge, looking utterly sincere: "Your Honor, she doesn't have a paternity test. On what grounds is she filing this lawsuit?" The judge frowned deeply. "Are you just making a mockery of this court?" Mia quickly said, "I have other proof! Arthur's parents can testify!" Arthur's mother immediately chimed in: "My son Arthur and Mia were together! I know this child is my eldest grandson!" I sighed helplessly. "Mom, please learn some basic legal facts. Without a paternity test, no one can prove a son is his father's son. Except for Arthur himself, no one else's testimony matters." 6. Arthur's mother was completely lost by my "father and son" talk, unable to process it immediately. Then, Arthur's father spoke up. "You just want a paternity test, right? We have one!" Saying that, he submitted a document. As the judge reviewed the report, Arthur's father proudly stated: "This is the genetic testing between myself and the child in Mia's womb. It proves we are biologically related. I only have one son, Arthur. The child in Mia's womb must be my son's flesh and blood." The judge, who had been reading, put the report down upon hearing this. "Evidence is invalid." Arthur's father's temper flared, and he started yelling: "Why isn't it valid?! We did the paternity test! It clearly states the child and I share a bloodline..." "Dad, please calm down~" I helped the judge maintain order: "As I just said, it's a paternity test. Do you know what paternity means? It means father and son. Unless it's Arthur's own test, no one else's is valid. Furthermore..." I smiled. "Are you absolutely certain Arthur is your only son?" Arthur's father was stunned by my question. I directly slapped a massive stack of documents in front of the judge. While the judge reviewed them, I explained with a distressed expression. "You shouldn't air dirty laundry in public, and originally, I didn't want to say anything. But my father-in-law forced my hand. My in-laws actually had a decent relationship, but that was before their son got rich. Once my father-in-law started getting money from Arthur, he got involved in quite a few scandals. He was rumored to be involved with the older ladies from the plaza dancing group, and our whole family once caught him in the act in an apartment. I even had to bail him out of the police station once. The charge was solicitation, you know what I mean... If you look closely, the bail receipt is in that pile..." Arthur's father's face had long since turned purple, swelling up like a bruised liver. I asked him with utmost sincerity, "Dad, are you really sure you didn't leave Arthur a half-brother running around somewhere..." "You're talking nonsense! I was always very careful!" "Oh..." I nodded understandingly, completely unfazed. But my mother-in-law lost her mind. "You shameless old goat!" She lunged at my father-in-law and started beating him. "When did you get arrested?! I didn't even know! You actually did something so shameless!" The experienced judge, thoroughly annoyed by the chaos in the courtroom, had to call the bailiffs to get the situation under control. Arthur's father, humiliated and furious but forced to suppress his anger, reasoned with Arthur's mother: "We can talk about this when we get home! Aren't we trying to fight for our grandson's inheritance right now?!" Arthur's mother snapped back to reality, realizing she had almost ruined their case. The judge sternly gave them a legal lecture—explaining the burden of proof, the evidentiary value of documents, etc., etc. It all boiled down to one sentence: without Arthur's paternity test, no matter how much they talked, they couldn't prove the child in Mia's stomach was Arthur's. Arthur's mother's face turned ashen. Then, Mia suddenly ran over, aggressively rubbed her eyes to simulate crying, and wailed at me: "Chloe, I know Arthur and I wronged you. But he's passed away. The child in my stomach is his final bloodline. After being married for so long, do you really have the heart to leave nothing for his only flesh and blood?" Mia was still somewhat clever. She knew that as long as I admitted it, the judge wouldn't interfere. I said, "Oh, how pitiful~" Her eyes, along with those of Arthur's parents, instantly lit up as they stared at me collectively. I said, "I don't believe it." Leaving the courthouse that day was a bit dicey; all three of them tried to attack me. But courthouses have bailiffs, don't they? A place of law and order—why would I be scared? Back home, I continued eating and drinking well, and even found time to go on a vacation. As soon as I got back, the court came knocking again. "Are you Chloe Vance? Your parents-in-law are suing you for concealing your husband's estate. They have submitted a complaint to the court. Please appear in court on time." Hey, court appearances! I'd already done it once. First time strangers, second time friends. What was there to fear? When the day arrived, I showed up perfectly on time. My in-laws had wised up this time and hired a lawyer. What a coincidence, so did I. We're dividing assets; how could I not hire a lawyer? Even if I scored a perfect 100% on my SAT math, I couldn't calculate that much money!
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