Visiting My Daughter at My Ex-Husband’s House, I Saw Her Stepmom Giving Her Chicken Feet—and I Handed Over All My Assets to Her

My daughter’s stepmother is a gentle, polite preschool teacher with a kind heart.

My ex-husband and I have been divorced for over six years. Back then, he was constantly away on business trips, while I, after giving birth, became even more consumed by work. I was busy all day, and at night I had to entertain clients—often coming home drunk. The household chores and childcare were left entirely to my in-laws.

Then, my father suddenly suffered a stroke. I spent a huge amount of money trying to treat him. But my husband didn’t want to share much of the cost; I had to borrow most of it from friends. From that point on, our marriage began to crack. I let everything slide—my business failed, and I suffered heavy losses.

Eventually, my husband asked for a divorce, accusing me of neglecting our family. After the separation, he kept the house while I left with our daughter and 400 million VND in cash. At that time, he was just a regular bank employee, while I was about to start my own business.

I borrowed more money to open a furniture export company. From handling orders, negotiations, and marketing to customer service—everything was done by me alone. The first few years were extremely tough, but for the sake of my daughter, I never allowed myself to give up.

A few years later, the company grew steadily. I hired more than ten employees, and my monthly income reached into the billions of dong.

My ex-husband eventually remarried. I had met his new wife before—she was a gentle, soft-spoken, and well-mannered preschool teacher. During holidays and special occasions, he would always bring our daughter over to their home for meals. Every time she returned, I would ask:

“How does your stepmom treat you?”

She would always smile brightly:

“Stepmom tells me the story of Little Red Riding Hood—and she even acts like a bunny, Mom!”

Hearing her stories made me feel both relieved and a little heartbroken. My daughter really adored that “pretty auntie.”

Because of work, I often stayed up late and had irregular meals. Last year, I was diagnosed with late-stage cervical cancer. The doctor said I had only about one or two years left to live.

At that moment, the first person I thought of was my daughter. My parents were already old, and I had no siblings. If I died, who would take care of her?

I decided to keep my illness a secret—I didn’t want anyone to worry about me or pity me. I lied to my ex-husband, telling him that I was about to remarry and wouldn’t have time to care for our daughter, and asked him to take her in for a while. He was a little upset but eventually agreed.

And just like that, my daughter moved in with her father and stepmother. On weekends, she still came to visit me. Six months passed, and she kept telling me how kind her stepmom was, and that her grandparents still loved her just like before.
Even so, I still couldn’t fully rest easy.

One time, I visited my daughter at my ex-husband’s house. It was a weekend, and my former mother-in-law had prepared a table full of delicious food. I saw her pick up the biggest chicken drumstick and place it into the new daughter-in-law’s bowl. But instead of eating it, she gently moved it to my bowl, then placed a chicken foot into my daughter’s bowl.

I was stunned. I didn’t expect her to know that I loved drumsticks and offered me the best piece. She also clearly knew my daughter loved gnawing on chicken feet and had even prepared a separate dipping sauce—exactly the kind my daughter liked.

After the meal, my daughter and I went into a room to talk in private. She told me that the next day, her school was taking the students on a field trip. Her stepmother had prepared everything carefully for her—clothes, milk, wet wipes, motion sickness medicine, and even mosquito repellent.

My daughter also told me that whenever her stepmom went shopping, she always bought toys for her. She even offered to pay for my daughter to attend English lessons at a high-quality language center. Hearing all these little details left me speechless—each one showed me just how sincerely she loved my daughter.

And because of that, I finally felt at peace entrusting my child to my ex-husband’s new wife.

A few months later, I underwent surgery and was bedridden, my frail body reduced to nothing but skin and bones. Tubes were inserted all over my body, and only my elderly parents stayed by my side, taking care of me.

At that time, I still couldn’t bring myself to tell my daughter the truth. But I knew—her stepmother was a good woman, someone I could trust to continue loving and caring for her in my place.

In my final days, I quietly prepared my will. I sold my company and left the majority of my assets to my daughter’s stepmother. The rest I set aside for my parents, to support them in their old age.

Only after everything was arranged did they find out I was sick. My daughter’s stepmother came to the hospital with my ex-husband and my daughter. When she saw me lying motionless in bed, she burst into tears. Holding my hand tightly, she choked out:

“Sis, please don’t worry. Even if I have my own child one day, I will still take care of Vy as if she were my own.”

My ex-husband looked at me and nodded.
I smiled. With those words, my heart was finally at peace.

Now, I will try to cherish the days I have left—surrounded by the people I love most in this life.