He Kneeled for Divorce, I Signed Without Hesitation

Arthur Vance's family had an ancestral rule: men who were unfaithful would be subjected to family discipline. On their fifth wedding anniversary, Arthur knelt in front of everyone and pleaded, "Violet, let's get a divorce." It was all because his first love, Vivian Lane, had returned from abroad in a miserable state—and had lost her memory. He took off his wedding ring, his eyes full of pain. "Vivian's family fell into decline, and she suffered a mental breakdown and amnesia. She thinks I'm still waiting for her..." I held our son and asked him, "Arthur, between her and me, who do you choose?" He fell silent for a long time before finally speaking. "Vivian has already had a very hard time. Can't you be a little more understanding? Don't force me to make a choice... "How about this? Let's do a fake divorce. You and Leo move out for a while, okay?" Looking out at the falling snow, I remembered the moment he had placed the ring on my finger—that was our beginning. Now, on another snowy day, he was asking for a divorce for someone else. "No need for a fake divorce. I'll grant your wish." I signed the divorce agreement without hesitation. I neatly signed the divorce papers and took my son's hand. "From now on, guard that hard-won reunion of yours. My son and I are done playing along." I had been gone for less than half a day when my mother-in-law called, her voice bursting with anxiety. "Violet! I just saw the paperwork the butler collected. Are you and Arthur getting a divorce?!" Her voice was filled with shock and disbelief. "Is it because of that woman who showed up at the banquet yesterday with a child?" Holding the phone, a wave of sorrow hit me, and my carefully maintained composure almost crumbled. "Mom... some things are better if you ask him yourself." That afternoon, Arthur and I were both summoned back to the Vance Estate. The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife. My father-in-law sat in the main seat, his face grim, gripping a wooden staff. "Arthur, do you still remember our family's ancestral rules?" With reddened eyes, my mother-in-law sat beside me, tightly holding my hand. Arthur's back stiffened slightly, and he subconsciously looked at me. "Dad, Mom, don't misunderstand! Violet and I are only separating temporarily. It's a fake divorce! It's for..." "Stop lying to Mom and Dad. It's a real divorce." I spoke calmly, cutting off his explanation. The living room fell into a sudden silence. Everyone's eyes focused on me. Arthur snapped his head around to look at me, the astonishment in his eyes no longer hidden. He probably never imagined that the woman who had once loved him with all her heart would agree so readily, without a single tear, tantrum, or any willingness to play along with his act. My mother-in-law reacted first. She grabbed a throw pillow nearby and hurled it at Arthur, her voice breaking into tears. "A divorce?! Arthur, have you lost your mind! You're divorcing Violet for a woman who threw you away years ago because you were poor?! Is this how you repay Violet for all the hardships she endured with you? Is this how you treat Leo?!" "Mom, Vivian's life is a mess right now. She has mental health issues and can't handle any stress... She needs me." Arthur tried to explain, but his words sounded hollow and weak. My father-in-law let out a cold, furious laugh. "There are no excuses for this. A real man takes responsibility for his actions. Take him to the ancestral hall!" The butler came forward holding a heavy ebony staff with both hands. The dark wood gleamed, having absorbed the blood and sweat of generations of disobedient sons. Arthur's face turned pale, but he still kept his back straight. He took off his suit jacket, leaving only his white shirt, and fell to his knees on the cold marble floor with a thud. My mother-in-law closed her eyes in disappointment. Whack! The first strike landed, and the dull thud made everyone shudder. Arthur's entire body tensed, and a dark red streak instantly bled through the fabric of his white shirt. Whack! Whack! Whack! The strikes rained down like a heavy downpour, each one cutting through the air with a sharp whistle. He clenched his teeth tightly as the veins on his forehead bulged. Cold sweat drenched his temples, but he refused to make a sound. His shirt was soon soaked in blood, sticking to his torn flesh. The faint scent of copper began to drift through the air. Terrified by the scene, Leo buried himself deeper into my arms. By the hundredth strike, a sharp c***k echoed, and a fine split appeared down the center of the sturdy ebony staff. Gasping for breath, my father-in-law threw the staff aside and pointed out the window toward the snow-covered courtyard, his voice raspy with rage. "Get out! Kneel out there until you come to your senses. Figure out exactly whose husband and whose father you are!" Arthur stumbled to his feet, every step jarring the wounds on his back. Blood trickled down his trousers, leaving a trail of striking red spots on the polished floor. He pushed open the door and knelt straight down in the freezing snow. The white flakes quickly dusted his shoulders, forming a shocking contrast with the searing crimson on his back. His lips turned purple from the cold, and his body shivered in the freezing wind, yet he kept his gaze fixed ahead, as if declaring to himself and the world: "Even if I freeze to death here today... I am going through with this divorce." Bursting into tears, my mother-in-law tried to rush outside, but my father-in-law barked fiercely: "Let him kneel! Let him sober up!" I held Leo and quietly looked at the blurred yet stubborn figure standing in the snow. Once upon a time, he had knelt like this in front of his parents and said he would marry no one but me. Back then, his startup had just failed. He had nothing, and I was the only one who believed in him. He had said, "Violet, when I succeed, I'll give you the best of everything." Snowflakes blurred my vision. It turned out the world he promised was never meant to belong to me alone. I turned away, no longer watching that self-inflicted performance. "Dad, Mom, since the ancestral rule has been carried out, Arthur and I are done," my voice remained calm as I spoke.