My parents' pension was a little over ten thousand yuan a month, and every time it hit the account, they transferred it to my sister right on schedule.

There were two seconds of silence on the other end, then my mom’s voice shot up all at once. “What do you mean by that?

That’s your dad!” “Your sister’s been strapped for cash lately. She just changed houses, and her kid’s about to be born.

We don’t want to add to her burden.” “So you want to add to mine?” I cut her off, my fingers tightening around the phone without me even noticing. “Mom, you and Dad get a little over 10,000 yuan in pension every month.

That’s plenty in a small county town. How you spend your money is none of my business. You gave it to my sister for fifteen years, and I never made a peep.

Now Dad needs surgery, and you turn around and ask me for 50,000. Isn’t that math off?” “What do you mean off or not off!” My mom sounded flustered. “He’s your own father!

Your sister’s situation isn’t good.

As her older brother, can’t you help out a little?” “Her situation isn’t good?” I couldn’t help laughing. “Mom, that new place she changed into is 140 square meters.

Who paid the down payment? Her husband’s 200,000yuan car—who bought that? You transfer your pension to her on time every month.

That’s 120,000 yuan a year, 1.8 million over fifteen years.” “You...” My mom choked on her words.

A few seconds later, her voice softened again, carrying a hint of begging. “Kevin, listen to Mom. Your sister really has it hard.

The mortgage is a huge pressure, and your brotherinlaw’s job isn’t stable. As parents, we have to think for them.” “Did you ever think for me?” I asked.

There was silence on the phone again. I heard my dad muttering something on the side. I couldn’t make it out, but my mom quickly said again, “Kevin, how can you be this petty?

We’re family. Why are you separating yours and mine?

Your dad raised you to this age, and now that he’s sick, isn’t it only right that you pitch in?” “Only right.” I repeated those three words and suddenly felt exhausted. “Mom, the money for your old age got transferred to my sister every month on time.

That was only right. Now Dad’s sick, and the first people you think of are me. That’s only right too. Then what about my sister?

What’s she supposed to do?” “Of course she’ll take care of it!

She just doesn’t have money right now...” “Doesn’t have money.” I laughed again. “Mom, do you even believe that?” My mom was probably so choked up she couldn’t say anything.

After a few seconds, her tone turned hard again. “Kevin, what kind of attitude is that? I’m your mother.

Your dad is lying in the hospital waiting for surgery, and this is how you talk to us?” I didn’t say anything. “Fine, fine, I’m not talking to you anymore!” My mom got anxious. “Are you transferring it or not?” “No.” The moment I heard myself say those two words, my voice was calm in a way that felt unfamiliar.

There was a second of silence on the other end, then my mom’s shrill voice exploded. “Kevin! That’s your dad!

Do you even have a conscience?!” “Mom,” I said, “when you gave all the money to my sister back then, wasn’t it already agreed that she’d take care of you in old age?”

After that, I hung up. My fingers were still wrapped around the phone, my knuckles a little white. I stood in the kitchen. Outside the window, the sky had already gone dark.

There was still a halfcut pile of vegetables on the stove, the knife resting on the cutting board, and a bag of green peppers torn open beside it.

I looked down at those green peppers and stared for a long time. My phone buzzed again.

I thought it was my mom calling back, but when I looked down, it was a WeChat message from my wife: “Working overtime. I’ll be back late.

You eat first.” I replied with a simple okay. Then I set the phone face down on the counter and kept cutting the vegetables. At 6:30, the doorbell rang.

I was sitting at the dining table with two sets of bowls and chopsticks in front of me. The food had already gone cold. Wendy changed her shoes and came in.

When she saw me, she froze for a second. “Why aren’t you eating?” “Waiting for you.” She walked over and sat across from me, but she didn’t pick up her chopsticks.

Instead, she looked at me with a complicated expression. “Kevin, your mom called me.” My hand, holding the bowl, paused for a moment, then slowly lowered it. “What did she say?” “She said your dad needs surgery and asked me to transfer 50,000 yuan.” Wendy looked at me. “I told her all the money at home is under your control, so I can’t make that decision.

I told her to talk to you directly.” I stared at her and suddenly felt a little angry. “Why would she call you?

When we got married, they wanted that 180,000 yuan dowry, and we agreed that no matter what happened after that, they wouldn’t come looking for us.

Now look at this—they turn around and call you instead?” Wendy didn’t say anything. She reached over and covered the back of my hand with hers.

Her hand was warm, a sharp contrast to my cold fingers. “Don’t be mad,” she said softly. “I know you don’t want to give it. Then don’t give it.

I already told them on the phone that the money is under your control, and I’m not getting involved.” I looked at her, and that anger in me slowly drained away, turning into an unspeakable kind of grievance. “Wendy,” I said, my voice a little hoarse. “It’s not that I’m fixated on the 50,000.

I just...” “I know.” She cut me off. “I know.” When we were dating, the first time I took her back to my hometown, my mom didn’t even cook a meal.

She told me to take Wendy out to eat.

When we were leaving, my mom held Wendy’s hand and kept talking around the edges about how “our family doesn’t have much, and Kevin’s younger sister is still small.

We’ll have to rely on you two to help out later.” I was standing there, wishing I could find a crack in the floor to crawl into.

When we got married, they asked for 180,000 yuan as the dowry, saying they’d keep that money for old age and wouldn’t drag us down later.

I knew that money would definitely end up going to my sister, but I didn’t say anything. Fine, give it to her. I’ll treat it as repayment for raising me.

When we bought the house, I was short 80,000 yuan for the down payment. I borrowed from every friend I had and still never asked them for help.

Back then I worked overtime until late every night, and Wendy kept me company without a single complaint. She knew I couldn’t bring myself to ask.

For that half a year when I maxed out my credit cards, I gritted my teeth and paid off the debt, living day by day, counting the days.

Then I suddenly said, “I’m sorry.” She blinked. “Sorry for what?” “For making you go through all this with me.”

I lowered my head and stared at the dishes on the table. “My parents are like that, my sister is like that. Every time something happens, they come looking for me.

You never should’ve had to deal with all this.” She stood up, came around to my side, and sat down beside me, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. “Kevin, do you remember what I told you on our wedding day?” I shook my head. “I said, starting today, we’re family.” She turned her face to look at me. “Your business is my business.

Your family is my family. I don’t think this is suffering, and you shouldn’t think of it that way either.” I leaned against her shoulder and said nothing.

That was when my phone rang. I picked it up and glanced at it. It was a WeChat message from Grace. “Brother, Mom said you were arguing with her on the phone?

You know Dad needs surgery, right? I just bought a house, and I really don’t have money. I’m pregnant too, and expenses at home are huge. Just cover it for now.

Once I have money, I’ll pay you back.” I stared at the message, reading it word by word. “Once I have money, I’ll pay you back.” I’d heard that line for thirty years.

When we were kids, she broke my workbook and made me take the blame, then said she’d buy me a new one later.

Later, she stole the pocket money I’d saved up and said she’d pay me back later. She had never paid me back once.

I was about to reply when she sent another message. “Also, Brother, Dad’s already on his way to you by bus. Aren’t your hospitals better there?

Mom said Dad should have the surgery over there, and it’ll be more convenient for you to take care of him. He’ll arrive tomorrow morning, so get ready.” I froze.

The next second, I called her directly.

It rang for a long time before she finally picked up, sounding lazy and unconcerned. “Hello, Brother?” “Grace, what do you mean by this?” My voice tightened. “Mom and Dad are coming to my place?

Did you even ask me?” “I’m telling you now, aren’t I?” Her tone was light and careless. “Mom said the hospitals over there are better, so Dad should have surgery there.

It’s for his own good. Besides, you’re closer, so it’s more convenient for you to take care of him.

Ben and I both can’t get away, and I’m pregnant.” “Can’t get away?” I was almost laughing from anger. “Grace, Mom and Dad transfer money to you on time every month, and now that Dad’s sick, you’re telling me you can’t get away?” “Brother, that’s just mean.” Her tone hardened too. “That money was given to me voluntarily by Mom and Dad.

I didn’t ask for it. Besides, I’m strapped for cash right now.

If I had money, wouldn’t I give it?” “Strapped for cash.” I repeated those three words, my voice turning cold. “Who paid the down payment on your new place? Who bought your car?

Who paid for all those designer things your husband has? When it was time to buy stuff, you weren’t strapped for cash.

Now that Dad’s sick, suddenly you are?” There was a twosecond silence on the other end, then her voice turned impatient. “Enough, I’m not arguing with you.

Mom and Dad already bought tickets. They’ll get there tomorrow morning. Go pick them up. That’s it.” “Grace!”

She had already hung up. I stood in the living room clutching my phone, my whole body shaking.

Wendy walked over and steadied my shoulder. “What is it?” “They...” I took a deep breath and forced myself to calm down. “Mom and Dad already bought tickets.

They’re coming tomorrow morning and want me to pick them up. They want me to take care of Dad’s surgery.” Wendy frowned, but she didn’t say anything.

I threw my phone onto the sofa, completely drained. “Wendy,” I said hoarsely, “I’m really done with this.” She didn’t say anything. She just pulled me into her arms.

Leaning against her, I suddenly thought of a lot of things. I thought of when I was little and there was something tasty at home.

My mom would say to let my sister pick first because she was younger.

Then when my sister grew up, my mom still said to let her pick first because she was a girl and needed to be spoiled. I thought of the year I took the college entrance exam.

I got into a university in the provincial capital, and my mom said not to go. The family couldn’t afford it.

She wanted my sister to go to a normal university and study education instead, because the tuition was lower.

I said I’d work parttime myself to pay the tuition, and she didn’t stop me again—but she didn’t give me a single cent either.

For four years of college, I worked parttime for four years and never went home during summer or winter break.

I thought of how, after graduation, I sent money home every month, and my mom said my sister needed to buy a house, so I should send more. I sent it.

Later, when my sister got married, my mom said the dowry wasn’t enough and I should chip in more. I chipped in.

Then later, when I was getting married, my mom said the dowry the bride’s family gave couldn’t be short by even a cent—180,000 yuan.

I asked her what they were keeping that money for. She said, “Your sister still has to have children later.” 180,000 yuan. I gave it. I told myself it was repayment for raising me.

But now? Now Dad was sick, and they came looking for me.

Now my mom called to curse me for having no conscience, and my sister sent me a WeChat message telling me to go pick them up.

Then what did the last thirty years of my life even amount to? “Kevin.” Wendy’s voice pulled me back from my memories. “What are you going to do?” I looked up at her. “I don’t want to pick them up, and I don’t want to take care of him.” She nodded. “Then don’t.” “But they’re already on the way.” “So what?” She looked at me. “That’s their business.

Whether you pick them up or not is your business. Kevin, you have the right to say no.” I froze, then slowly smiled. Yeah. I had the right to say no.

But it felt like I’d never said it before. From childhood to now, I’d gotten used to obeying. My parents told me to give way to my sister, so I gave way.

They told me to do more work, so I did more.

They told me to send money home, so I sent it. “Wendy, let’s go to your parents’ place.” She blinked. “Now?” “Now.” “If my parents come and I don’t pick them up, they’ll definitely come looking for us.

I don’t want to wait for them at home. Let’s stay at your parents’ place for a few days and come back after they leave.”

Wendy looked at me, a little surprised, but that quickly turned into a smile. “Okay,” she said. “Let’s go.” We packed a few things, changed clothes, and headed out.

On the way downstairs, my phone rang again. I looked. It was my mom calling. I didn’t answer. She called again. Still didn’t answer.

The third time she called, I just turned the phone off.

Once we were in the car, Wendy started the engine and slowly drove out of the neighborhood. “What are you thinking about?” Wendy asked.

I turned to look at her. “I’m thinking maybe I’m being too heartless.” She laughed a little. “What do you think?” “I don’t know.” I was being honest. “I just know that if I pick them up, take care of him, and pay for everything, I’ll feel even worse.” “Then that’s right.

If something makes you feel bad, don’t do it.” An hour and a half later, we got to the inlaws' place. “Why are you coming over so late?” Wendy’s mom stood up and looked us over. “What happened?” “Nothing.

We just wanted to come stay for a couple of days.” Wendy’s mom looked at her, then at me.

She probably sensed something, but she didn’t ask. “Have you eaten?” “I’ll heat something up for you.” “We already ate,” Wendy said, stopping her. “Mom, don’t fuss.

We can handle it ourselves.” Wendy’s mom nodded, then looked at me again, like she wanted to say something but held back in the end. The next morning, I woke up early.

When I opened my eyes, the sky was only just beginning to brighten. Wendy was still asleep. I got out of bed quietly, went to the bathroom, and washed up.

When I came out, Wendy’s mom was already busy in the kitchen. “You’re up?” She turned and looked at me. “Hungry?

The porridge will be ready soon.” “Thanks, Mom.” I walked over and stood beside her as she stirfried the vegetables. “Kevin,” she said suddenly, “did you have a fight with your parents’ side?” I froze, not knowing how to answer.

She turned the heat down and faced me. “That child Wendy has never liked talking much since she was little. She keeps everything bottled up inside.

But the way she looks at you, Mom can tell she really cares about you. Whatever’s going on between you two, don’t hide it.” I lowered my head, silent for a few seconds, then spoke.

I told her everything that happened yesterday, word for word. By the end, my voice was trembling a little. “Mom, I’m not being unfilial, I just...” Wendy’s mom didn’t say anything.

She just walked over and hugged me. “Silly boy,” she said gently, patting my back. “You’ve already been more than filial enough.” My nose burned, and I almost cried. “Mom knows you’ve been wronged.” She let go and looked at me. “Your parents are biased.

That’s their business. You’ve done everything you should do, and even things you shouldn’t have had to do. Now that you don’t want to do it anymore, then don’t.

Mom’s here.” I looked at her and suddenly didn’t know what to say. My parents raised me for thirty years and never once said something like that to me.

After breakfast, I turned my phone back on. The second it powered up, messages flooded in. My mom had called more than a dozen times and sent a flood of WeChat messages.

Without exception, every single one was accusing me of being unfilial. Grace had also sent a few messages, each one sharper than the last.

The latest, sent ten minutes ago, said: “Brother, you’re really something.

Turning off your phone and hiding out—aren’t you afraid of breaking Mom and Dad’s hearts?” I looked at those messages and smiled a little.

A little after ten in the morning, my mom called again. This time I answered. “Hello.” “Kevin!” Her voice was frantic and angry again. “Where are you?!

Your dad’s already at the hospital. Where the hell are you?!”