A hammer.
After a brief moment of confusion, Qin Guan carefully extracted the tool from its hiding place between the drawer and wardrobe—concealed so meticulously that only his violent removal of the drawer had exposed it.
Was this Auntie Feng's doing? Why hide a hammer here?
It was an ordinary claw hammer, neither large nor new. Familiar.
The forked "claw" end—originally two slightly splayed metal prongs resembling goat horns—had been crushed into an "A" shape by tremendous force. Qin Guan recognized this deformed tool. He'd bought it when moving into their new home, handling household repairs alongside Auntie Feng.
He remembered exactly how the claw became misshapen.
This happened less than two years into his marriage, shortly after Xu Ruyi discovered her pregnancy. Her morning sickness was severe—she vomited constantly, unable to keep anything down. Qin Guan doted on her, buying novel snacks daily to tempt her appetite. Even when she craved midnight treats, he'd rise immediately to satisfy her.
Yet despite his efforts, Xu Ruyi kept returning to her parents' home.
She still worked then. Often, Qin Guan would arrive home with armfuls of groceries only to find empty rooms. Xu Ruyi went straight from work to her parents' house, usually taking Auntie Feng. Miraculously, her nausea vanished there, appetite restored.
"See? Same dishes Auntie Feng makes! Must be her mood improving here," his mother-in-law would simper during visits, casting pointed looks at Qin Guan. "You must be extra considerate during her delicate condition."
The insinuations stung. Mood issues? Implying he caused Xu Ruyi's distress? Hadn't he bent over backwards already? Why did they always blame him instead of admitting their daughter's capriciousness?
He swallowed these retorts, opting to avoid future visits through "work emergencies" and "late meetings." Xu Ruyi bought the excuses, even packing him leftovers.
Secretly, Qin Guan reveled in his freedom—indulging carnal desires elsewhere. This hedonistic interlude lasted only a month before interruption.
His mother-in-law required major surgery. As the dutiful son-in-law, Qin Guan attended to her hospitalization and home recovery. Post-discharge, Xu Ruyi practically moved back in, abandoning their home at the slightest pretext.
He tolerated it, playing the filial role—never imagining her mother's impending death. Though chronically ill, the woman could've lived years longer tending her garden. But she insisted on meddling.
The crisis erupted during her convalescence. Qin Guan had just won a challenging case. Driving home that evening, Xu Ruyi called:
"Come to Mom's! She ordered your favorite braised pork knuckle from Sixi Restaurant!"
Qin Guan's mouth watered. Starvation-scarred from childhood, he craved the dish's visceral satisfaction. The gesture reeked of calculation—her father's friend at his firm would've reported the court victory.
He smirked coldly. Their kindness always had strings. Were he unsuccessful, would there be celebratory feasts?
Still, he agreed. Reversing his car to fetch gifts, he spotted a gaunt figure materializing before his bumper—his mother-in-law, supposedly recuperating at home.
No takeout containers in hand. No smile.
"Qin Guan. Upstairs. We need to talk."
Her once-plump frame swam in a beige silk suit. Without awaiting response, she marched toward his building, ignoring the son-in-law who'd brought their family prestige.
Baffled but compliant, Qin Guan parked and followed.
He never anticipated what came next.