I sat in the living room of my new house, sipping hot tea, looking out the gate where workers were finishing the fence. My mind replayed the past five years – every broken promise, every slight, every dollar I spent that was never credited.

The news of my ex-father-in-law being invited to work spread faster than the news of my building a new house. It turned out that the complaint came from Mr. Tu himself – the neighbor right next to my ex-wife’s parents’ house. Mr. Tu had a disputed piece of land, and during the investigation, he discovered signs of falsified documents and red books related to many households, including the land that my ex-wife’s family had “drawn up” to lure me into building a house.

The trap I almost fell into, now became the evidence forcing them into a difficult position.

The next day, I received a call from an investigator. He asked me if I was willing to provide documents, messages, and recordings related to my ex-wife’s family repeatedly forcing me to build a house on land that was not transferred to my name. I just smiled:

– I have saved them all for a long time, you can come and get them.

That evening, I rummaged through the safe and took out a thick file, including:

• The message asked me to “invest” in building a house.

• Bill of materials and labor.

• Photos of family meetings discussing land.

• Recording of the argument when I asked to transfer the land title.

Each piece of paper was like a sharp knife, cutting through all their deceitful arguments.

A week later, while I was at work, I met some of my ex-wife’s relatives. They no longer looked aggressive, but instead looked evasive.

— About the other day… please forgive me, everyone is just angry for a moment, — one person muttered.

I just smiled and replied briefly:
— I have long since forgotten, but the law has not.

My wedding with my new wife was neat but warm. She – An – was completely different from what I had endured. She didn’t care how much money I had, she only cared about how I lived. And most importantly, her family valued me as their own son, not as a money printing machine.

As my husband and I stood on the balcony of our new home, looking out into the distance at the tiled roof of my ex-wife’s parents’ house, lost in the trees, I felt a sense of relief.

I went from being looked down upon and taken advantage of to standing up for myself, regaining justice and rebuilding my life.

And I know, this story will be whispered about all over the neighborhood, but this time, I don’t care anymore. Because I won – not by rumors, but by the truth and my own freedom.