Chapter 4

Grandpa, it turned out, hated noise and was always sleepy. He forbade Mom and Dad from playing melodramatic novels aloud over the house speakers.

That was one of my parents’ few pleasures—a crushing blow they could hardly put into words.

All they could do was mutter behind his back:

“What’s noisy about it? It’s not like we’re putting on an opera.”

But the trouble wasn’t over yet.

After the high-school entrance exam results came out, my aunt suddenly brought my cousin over for a visit.

Mom and Dad thought she’d finally gotten through her difficulties and had come to repay the money she’d borrowed. They were delighted.

Then my aunt pushed my cousin in front of me.

“Aitu, I heard you came first in the whole school. Congratulations! Since you’re free this summer, why don’t you tutor your cousin?”

“She’s about to take the middle-school entrance exam. Getting her into the city’s No. 1 school shouldn’t be hard for you, right? We’ll be counting on you for the next few months!”

Dad shot to his feet. “No way! I just signed her up for summer camp. When she gets back, she has piano, painting, and swimming lessons. She won’t have time!”

“Brother!” My aunt planted her hands on her hips, furious. “Do you lie without even blinking? Can she really learn all those things by herself? What’s wrong with spending ten days or half a month helping your cousin? She’s family!”

“You can’t raise Aitu into someone with no sisterly affection. What good are excellent grades if she turns out like that?”

My paternal grandfather had died young, and my grandmother passed away when Dad was in middle school. My aunt and Dad had grown up relying on each other.

They were very close.

Dad valued family ties and had always indulged her. Yet now he lost his temper, ignoring everything else, and told her she was living in a dream.

While they were still arguing, Mom’s phone rang.

It was Grandma.

“Meiha, is Aitu home?”

“Mom, what is it this time?”

“Well, I know a furniture-store owner. He’s a good man, makes several million a year. I thought, why let a good match go to someone else? Aitu…”

“Have you lost your mind? How old is Aitu?” Mom cut her off, on the verge of collapse.

“She’s not that young! By Chinese age reckoning, she’s sixteen or seventeen. In another two years she could be holding a baby. You were around that age when you went on blind dates, weren’t you? If you could do it, why can’t she?!”

“Don’t hesitate. Mr. Fan is waiting. I’ve already taken his money. Tell her to go meet him…”

Just as everything had turned into a pot of chaos, Grandpa came out, leaning on his cane.

“What are you all making such a racket about? Can’t a person sleep?”

“AAAAAA!”

Mom and Dad suddenly let out piercing screams.

Then they flipped the table with a crash, sending bottles and dishes shattering across the floor.

“You really think we’re villains, huh? Get out! All of you, get out! Nobody gets to live in peace!”

7

Sometimes a person’s awakening really does happen in an instant.

I watched Mom—the woman who, only two months earlier, had meekly yielded to my grandparents—decisively hang up and grind her teeth as she dragged Grandpa toward the door.

“I bought you a bus ticket. You’re going home today. When I got married, you couldn’t even give me a dowry, but now that you need someone to look after you, you remember you have a daughter? And you’ve taken over a whole study, too—shameless!”

Dad didn’t just chase my aunt and cousin out with a broom. He also reached into her pocket and pulled out a few red bills.

“Here’s three hundred yuan. You still owe our family forty-nine thousand eight hundred. Go tell your husband to stop hiding like a turtle and pay the whole debt next time—or I’ll see him in court!”

My aunt was so angry she burst into tears.

“Brother, have you forgotten what Mom said before she died? How can you treat me like this?”

“You still dare bring up Mom? Did I quit school to raise you or not? Did I tell you to study hard or not? Did I tell you to find a proper job or not? Didn’t I tell you ages ago to divorce that useless man?!”

Dad swung the broom as he spoke.

“Out, out, out! Stop coming here to make me angry!”

The door slammed shut at last.

The familiar quiet returned to our home.

But this time, it was the peace we had all been longing for.

Mom and Dad leaned against each other, exhausted. I fanned them for a long time before they came around.

“Lin Tao… you really kicked your sister out?”

Dad gave a bitter smile. “If she’d only borrowed money, fine. But she dared set her sights on our precious girl.”

“That’s right.” Mom sighed. “I could put up with the other things, but how could she let our daughter be dragged off to a blind date at fifteen or sixteen, just like I was? And it’s not as though he’s some childhood sweetheart from a well-matched family.”

I couldn’t help wrapping my arms around them and burying my face between them.

Mom awkwardly rubbed her eyes. “People are strange. I used to love those feel-good stories where someone rises to the top and the relatives who mistreated the parents regret it and come crying, begging them to come back. Ha! They’re so satisfying to read, but when you’re living it, you realize it’s nothing like that.”

“People who play favorites don’t know how to regret anything,” Dad said with a nod. “They just think they haven’t exploited you enough.”

“So movies and real life really are two different things. I always thought I might be some lost young master from a wealthy family, but when I opened my eyes, I still had vegetables to wash and chop.”

“I’m not reading that stuff anymore. It’s all fake anyway, and reading too much just makes you mad…”

He stopped midsentence. Another sound came from the room.

【In a dark underground bar, the woman placed a contract on the table and smiled without a trace of warmth…】

“Hey, Dad.” I handed him my phone. “That urban supernatural novel you were following updated.”

“Right, right, right! This one! The author finally filled in the plot hole after eight hundred years!”

Dad sprang up from the floor, shifted into a more comfortable position, and sighed in relief.

“Wife, I think I’ve come back to life.”

8

After that uproar, our home finally became truly quiet.

Our reputation was in tatters, too.

Mom and Dad didn’t care. They simply left that murky family group chat and spent their days in our own three-person chat.

Every so often, they shared the melodramatic web novels they were following.

I’d even figured out their tastes: Mom liked wealthy-family romances where the male lead chased his wife after she ran off with their child; Dad liked mindless power-up-and-beat-the-monster stories.

Either way, they were much happier than before.

It really proved the saying: as long as you have no moral scruples, morality can never hold you hostage!

When school started, I entered high school. Mom and Dad agonized over which school to enroll me in.

While running their breakfast shop, they’d heard from their customers that the city’s best educational resources no longer belonged to No. 1 High. A private school that had opened a few years earlier was now the place to be.

It was wealthy, had recruited plenty of excellent teachers and students, and its university admission rate had even surpassed No. 1 High’s that year.

Of course, sending me there would double both tuition and living expenses.

They still hadn’t recovered all the money they’d lent my relatives, and the shop rent had gone up. Every night, they pored over the accounts and sighed.

While Mom was washing her face, I tugged at Dad’s sleeve.

“It’s okay. I’m used to No. 1 High, and expensive doesn’t always mean better.”

“You silly girl.” Dad tapped my head. “There’s a reason it costs more. I watched their promotional video. They have a badminton hall, a heated swimming pool, fancy dormitories, counseling rooms… The place looks like a castle. Who wouldn’t want to live there?”

“Mom and I both know you’re a light sleeper. You never slept well in those eight-person dorm rooms, but you didn’t want us to worry, so you never said anything. Every time you came home, you had dark circles like a panda.”

“Now we can afford to give you a better education. Why should you keep putting up with that? Besides, maybe you’ll meet seven or eight domineering CEOs there and cure your mother’s obsession.”

“Dad!”

He automatically clamped his mouth shut. I lowered my head and leaned against the wall.

“But… you and Mom are so good to me. I really feel pressured.”

I was afraid of becoming a burden to them.

I was also afraid I wouldn’t live up to their expectations.

But Dad just laughed. “What pressure? You’re my daughter. Everything in this house—including the money—is yours to begin with.”

Then he sighed. “Your mother’s had such a hard life. She was only eighteen or nineteen when she got together with me, and I was too useless to give her a rich and comfortable life.”

“So I think our daughter shouldn’t have to suffer like that. You’re a girl; we should raise you with a little refinement, so that one day, if you meet someone who treats you a bit better, you’ll go trotting after them.”

“If we don’t, your mother will never forgive me. She’ll burn all my books.”

I laughed so hard I nearly snorted a snot bubble.

“But Dad… I’m not as smart as the people in those novels. What if I don’t get into Tsinghua or Peking University?”

“Then you go to another school. What’s there to be afraid of? Just don’t end up like me, living off your parents after graduation.”

“What if I never meet a domineering CEO?”

“Then make the person you like marry into our family! We can afford to support them.”

“What if I don’t like boys?”

“Then…”

Dad froze, took half a step backward, and turned to shout:

“Something’s wrong, wife—”

“I’m kidding, Dad!”

He immediately settled down.

9

My teenage years passed in a flash.

Life at that private school was peaceful and smooth. I received a substantial scholarship, so I didn’t add to the family’s financial burden.

Later, I didn’t get into Tsinghua or Peking University—I missed by a dozen points or so—but I still went to Beijing.

Mom and Dad threw a special party to celebrate my college admission.

This time, they invited only the regulars from around the breakfast shop and a few close neighbors.

They had watched me grow up, and many of them were already crying by the time I went onstage to speak.

“Aitu, make sure you’re good to your parents in the future. They haven’t had it easy.”

Auntie Wang from the tailor shop wiped her tears as she spoke. “Your parents are the hardest workers on this whole street. Out of 365 days in a year, they must work at least 360.”

“Every winter, your mother’s hands crack and go numb from soaking them in cold water. She won’t even heat water for herself. Once your dad fell while buying supplies in the rain and was bedridden for days, unable to move, but he told us not to tell you because he was afraid you’d lose focus.”

“That’s right,” an elderly neighbor chimed in. “Whenever we talk to your parents, they always mention you. They say they need to earn more so you can go to a good school, move to a big city, and marry someone…”

“All right, all right!” Dad hurriedly cut him off. “It’s a happy occasion. Let’s not talk about all that and make the kid feel choked up.”

“Come on, let’s drink! Let’s celebrate my daughter getting into college and starting a new chapter in her life!”

I raised my glass with them. I wanted to smile, but my vision had grown blurry.