Chapter 10

He seized her hand and tried to force it into the ink pad.

In the struggle, she fell from the bed, split her forehead, and broke her right leg.

When police arrived, she lay on the floor. He was still cursing.

This time, she made no excuses for him.

She caught an officer’s sleeve and said only:

“Arrest him.”

Mom was taken to hospital and needed immediate surgery.

Unable to contact anyone else who could sign, the hospital notified me.

When I hurried over, she was already in the preoperative room.

Seeing me, she burst into tears and reached out.

I stood beside her, hesitated a few seconds, then took her hand.

Not because I forgave her.

Only because I didn’t want to become like her and my brother.

After the surgery, her first words on waking were an admission.

“I was wrong.”

I poured water and didn’t reply.

Getting no response, she tried to sit up.

The movement pulled at her wound. She gasped with pain but ignored it, asking urgently:

“If I’d given you one house at the start, would you have taken me home?”

I set the glass beside the bed.

“No.”

She froze.

“Why?”

“Because you don’t regret hurting me.”

I looked at her.

“You regret betting everything on your son and losing.”

Her lips moved.

The hope in her eyes faded little by little.

The room was quiet for a long time.

Then she suddenly slapped herself hard.

Before the second slap, I caught her wrist.

“Stop performing.”

Her hand stopped in the air.

She shook her head urgently.

“I’m not. I really know I was wrong.”

“Then will you publicly admit the accusations were false?”

She became still.

I held her gaze.

“Will you tell everyone that he took the assets, and you deliberately slandered me to protect him?”

She was silent a long time.

At last, she nodded.

An aide set up the phone.

Mom admitted that both houses, eight hundred thousand in savings, and the shop had gone to her son.

She admitted I had never taken her pension money.

She admitted the slanderous videos were meant to force me to take her in and hide his abandonment.

Near the end, she choked several times.

“I wronged my daughter.”

“She was always the one who cared for me.”

“But I wanted to preserve my son’s good name, so I ruined hers.”

After the video was posted, Chen Zheng returned to work.

The school publicly apologized to our son and dealt with the students who led the bullying.

Relatives who had cursed me came to the hospital.

They cried around her bed, praised her for finally seeing sense, then urged me to take her home because she had admitted her mistakes.

I brought out a blank care-duty roster.

“If you all feel so sorry for her, take turns caring for her for a month.”

The room immediately fell silent.

Those wiping tears hurried to find excuses.

Young children at home.
Too much work.
Some didn’t even say goodbye before leaving.

Mom watched their retreating backs and said nothing for a long time.

At last, she understood that spoken devotion was the cheapest thing of all.

The day before discharge, she asked the aide to help her out of bed.

Her right leg couldn’t bend. Each step brought sweat to her forehead.

Before I could react, she dropped to her knees.

“My daughter, I beg you.”

She clung to the bedrail and refused the aide’s help.

“Take me home.”

Everyone looked at me.

In my previous life, she had knelt outside our door like this, forcing me to sell our son’s house to repay my brother’s debts.

I had thought she did it out of love for him.

Now I understood. Kneeling was another way to force me to yield.

I called a nurse and helped her back into bed.

She panted, hope returning.

“You agree?”

“No.”

She stopped.

After a stunned moment, she broke down completely.

“I admitted I was wrong!”

“I even knelt to you. What more do you want?”

I gave the discharge papers to the aide.

“Admitting your mistakes is what you should do.”

“It isn’t a bargaining chip for forgiveness.”

She gripped the sheet.

I carefully explained the arrangements.

“I’ll pay my required share. When a family member needs to sign, I’ll come.”

“But I won’t quit my job to serve you. I won’t make my husband and son suffer for your choices again.”

Her lips trembled.

Finally, she forced out:

“But I’m your mother.”

At the door, I turned to look at her.