A case Between bride own relatives

"A case Between bride own relatives"

Before the baby was even a month old, my niece, carrying her baby, went to get a divorce: "As soon as my family arrived, her mother-in-law stopped arguing."

My niece gave birth just 23 days ago.

While others are resting in bed during their postpartum period, she grabbed her little one and rushed to the Civil Affairs Bureau to get a divorce.

The clerk was very direct: "You can't get a divorce here while breastfeeding unless you file a lawsuit in court."

My niece didn't cry or argue after hearing this.

She immediately hailed a taxi at the entrance and went straight to the court.

At the court, the procedures were straightforward: registration, scheduling, mediation.

She only said one thing:

"No mediation, I'm definitely getting a divorce."

The court said she needed to file a lawsuit and have a complaint.

My niece, carrying her baby, walked out of the courthouse, found a lawyer, and wrote the complaint on the spot.

She went back inside to submit it.

Hearing this, I could only think of four words: "So ruthless." She went back to her in-laws' house to pack her things and the baby's.

But as soon as she reached the door, her mother-in-law slammed it shut, refusing to let her in.

Throughout the door, she yelled:

"If you want a divorce, you're no longer our family member. Don't come in again!"

The niece had nothing on her; the baby bottle and diapers were all inside.

She didn't plead, she didn't cry.

Standing at the door, she clearly stated:

"You can refuse to open the door."

"Either I call the police."

"Or I kick the door down right now."

"I'll give you one minute."

Seeing she wasn't joking, her mother-in-law panicked.

She immediately called my sister, telling her to come and "take this shameful woman away."

As soon as my sister gave the signal, several of us relatives immediately got to work.

No reasoning, no arguing.

We rented a van and rushed to her mother-in-law's house.

Upon arriving at the door, we only asked our niece one question:

"Which ones do you want to take?"

She pointed, and we carried them.

First, we moved all the baby stuff, her clothes, and her ID.

Then we moved the larger items: the refrigerator, washing machine, and air conditioner.

Upon reaching this point, her mother-in-law finally sat down and yelled:

"Don't move them! Don't move them!"

Our niece ended it with a single sentence:

"These are my mother's dowry."

"Even if I take them back and sell them as scrap metal, I won't leave them for you."

We didn't argue with her.

We continued moving.

She didn't leave a single one of her small items—pots, bowls, bedding, baby supplies.

Because we know very well: once you've crossed that threshold, you can't let anyone use "your things are still there" to blackmail you back.

My niece is an only child.

Her father passed away ten years ago, leaving my sister to raise her alone.

The first time she brought this man home, we elders already sensed something was wrong: he was unreliable, and his family situation was complicated—her mother was a widow, and my sister, who refused to marry and moved out, lived there permanently.

They were dirt poor when they got married; the dowry was only 11,000.

My sister, feeling sorry for her daughter, actually gave her extra money: a complete set of furniture and appliances, plus a cash dowry of 200,000.

The first few months after the wedding were alright.

Then the man said he wanted to start a business, asking for 100,000 right away.

He was always saying he was "busy," never coming home, telling her to wait and count the money.

My niece naively believed it.

Until around the time she gave birth, someone secretly told her:

He wasn't busy; he was having an affair and "living separately."

My niece started paying attention and slowly gathered evidence.

When the truth came out, the scumbag could still say:

"Just playing around."

Those three words are enough to condemn him to death.

So some people say our family is heartless, that we shouldn't have been so ruthless, that we should have tried to reconcile.

I just want to ask: A woman, not even finished her postpartum confinement period, is holding her baby and going to court to file a lawsuit—

What kind of situation would drive her to do that?

It's not that we're heartless.

We know that with this kind of person, if you soften your stance, he'll drag you down for life.

If you back down, it becomes "enduring for the baby."

She endured until she couldn't endure it anymore.

When my niece came out, her face was pale, but her back was straight.

At that moment, I felt:

She wasn't acting impulsively.

She had come to her senses.

What do you think?

Faced with such a man and his family, is it heartless for the bride's family to take everything away?

Or is this truly protecting their daughter and grandchild?