On the day of my mother's burial, my brother of eight years and my wife teamed up to kick me out of the company I founded, leaving me penniless. Even my mother's life-saving money was embezzled, and her ventilator was personally unplugged by my wife's signature. I didn't cry or make a fuss; instead, I sold the company's lifeline to a mortal enemy for one yuan, and a notice of copyright infringement sent the two-billion empire crashing into a trading halt and collapse. Money-laundering stakes, surveillance of infidelity, and ironclad proof of ventilator unplugging were presented by me one by one in court. They cursed me as trash, but later begged on their knees for a settlement. I only replied: what I want is not a trading suspension, but bankruptcy.