Su Qiao's gaze was sharp, and she wasn't afraid in the slightest. "I'm being sharp-tongued?"
"You're capable of doing such despicable things, yet I'm not even allowed to say a few words?"
"Put your hand over your conscience and ask yourself: was it really an amicable breakup?"
The first thirty thousand yuan was considered payment for supporting him through college and covering his parents' medical treatment and medicine. The other thirty thousand was divorce compensation.
Was thirty thousand yuan enough to cover their daughter's child support until she turned eighteen?
Did this man really have no idea what he'd done?
This man was truly a complete scumbag.
Given the circumstances back then, what could a woman with no money, power, special skills, or much education do?
Once her husband had fallen out of love, he wouldn't care whether she lived or died. He certainly wouldn't give her any living expenses, so she could only rely on herself to support the family.
Perhaps her husband would even use violence, emotional abuse, or similar methods to pressure her every day, causing her tremendous mental stress, or even threaten her with their two children.
And that wealthy mistress from a powerful family would have countless ways to deal with an uneducated, penniless country woman who had never seen much of the world.
In such circumstances, what else could she do?
Surely she couldn't abandon her two children and fight them to the death?
If that was considered an amicable breakup, then there truly wouldn't be any situation in this world that didn't count as one.
If you really had the ability, you could throw her a few million yuan, or compensate her with several houses—at the very least, ensure that she and the children could live out the rest of their lives securely.