Chapter 5

“To Xiaoyu! You promised to spend it on her. If you break your word, compensate her!”

“Supporting her education was helping a relative, not a loan.”

“Just wait. I’ll get a lawyer and sue!”

She hung up.

My daughter came out of the kitchen.

“Grandma’s suing you again?”

“She says she will.”

“Then let’s organize the evidence.”

She brought the already sorted folders to the table.

Each was labeled: school, medical care, clothes, travel, transfers.

“The family group screenshots are here, too.”

“She and Grandma wrote the eight-thousand demand themselves. The dates and amounts are clear.”

I stroked her head.

“You don’t have to carry this for me.”

“I’m not carrying it for you. I’m a daughter of this family, too. I don’t want them to keep making you the villain.”

The next morning, I visited the local legal-aid counter.

After examining the statements and bills, the worker asked, “Was there a written agreement that you would pay eight thousand a month after she became an adult?”

“No.”

“Any acknowledgment of debt?”

“No.”

“Then list the facts of her residence, the purposes of the payments, and the amount being demanded separately.”

“They may make a claim. But they can’t simply turn educational expenses you voluntarily paid into a debt.”

I nodded and submitted the documents.

When I returned, Lei sat in the living room.

His phone lit up with a string of his mother’s voice messages.

“Even if she sues, you don’t have to make this so big.”

“Am I making it big, or did they turn eight thousand into a family rule first?”

“Xiaoyu’s struggling.”

“Then she can apply for student loans, live in a dormitory, or tutor. She has plenty of options. Treating my money as her fixed salary isn’t one.”

He lowered his head.

“Mom says if you make up that money, everything can go back to how it was.”

“How was it?”

He said nothing.

Looking at the man I’d lived with for more than ten years, I suddenly understood.

His so-called mediation meant using my endurance as the solution.

“Lei, when they actually send documents, we’ll follow the process. If you’re willing to testify, tell what you know. If not, stop asking me for money on their behalf.”

He looked up, as though he wanted to explain.

In the end, he only said, “I understand.”

The day before the thirtieth, my mother-in-law had someone deliver a supposed lawyer’s letter.

Its heading read:

“Notice Regarding Reimbursement of Zhou Xiaoyu’s Five Years of Maintenance and Educational Expenses.”

No law firm’s seal. Only printed threats.

I scanned it, saved a copy, and sent it to legal aid.

The reply: the document was not properly constituted. Don’t argue for now. Deal with the residence issue on the agreed date.

I put down my phone.

Outside, the sky darkened.

Tomorrow, Xiaoyu had to move out.

But I knew she wouldn’t leave quietly.

On the morning of the thirtieth, my mother-in-law brought her and two relatives to the local mediation office.

They claimed they wanted to clarify family finances. In fact, they began by portraying me as cruel.

My mother-in-law cried the moment she entered.

“She has money to send her daughter to university but won’t give her husband’s sister food! How did our family end up with someone like her?”

Xiaoyu sat beside her, clutching the invalid letter.

“I only want eight thousand a month.”

“If she refuses, she must return everything spent on me over the last five years in one payment.”

The mediator looked at her.

“What is the basis for eight thousand?”

She pointed at Lei.

“My brother agreed.”

He sat at the outer edge, his shoulders stiff.

“Is there a written agreement?” the mediator asked.

He lowered his head.

“No.”

“Transfer records showing regular monthly payments?”

“No.”

My mother-in-law grew agitated.

“Must every word within a family be written down?”

I pushed forward the first folder.

“Then record what actually happened. For five years, either my husband or I paid Xiaoyu’s expenses.”

The mediator turned to the last page.

“More than two hundred thousand, excluding daily meals.”

The relatives began murmuring.

My mother-in-law gritted her teeth.

“She volunteered! She can’t use it to claim credit!”

“I’m not.”

“I’m refusing to let past care become a compulsory obligation to pay for the next four years.”