Chapter 8 — A Dao Didn't Return

When I went to the construction site to carry cement, they also said that if I made a mistake, I would have to bear the consequences. It turned out that these principles only worked for me. “I didn't give it.” The other end of the phone was silent for a moment. Tham Tri quickly got angry and scolded. "Tham Tri Dao, what are you pretending to be?" "Now that you have money, don't you even care about your own younger brother?" "In the past, your parents shouldn't have picked you up! Someone like you should have been wanted since childhood!" Mom quickly told him to shut up. But it was too late. Hearing those words, there was no sadness in my heart. Over the years, it hasn't changed at all. It's just that in the past, there was always someone to deal with the consequences for him. Now it's finally his turn to take responsibility for his life. I hung up the phone and blocked the number. Afterwards, I heard from relatives that my parents had sold the house they lived in for more than ten years, and had to borrow from friends and relatives to reluctantly collect enough money to compensate. The drawer that was always locked was also thrown into the trash pile when they moved house. Inside there was no huge wealth as they imagined. There were only a few expired bank cards and a set of keys that no longer opened any doors. In the end, Tham Tri was still expelled from the school. Tham Di Ninh did not look for me again. Parents moved to a cramped rented house. It is said that sometimes my mother takes out old family photos and sits and looks at them for a long time. It's just that the little person in the photo will never return. A year later, I bought my own house. On the day of handing over the house, the staff asked me: "Whose fingerprint will the door lock record first?" I put my finger on it. The notification sound rang out: 【Successfully recorded.】 I stood in the bright living room, wearing a jade pendant left by my grandmother on my chest. There are no locked drawers here. No one checked to see if I had stolen anything. No one forced me to prove whether I deserved to stay or not. Because everything in this house originally belonged to me. When I was eighteen years old, I thought what I was missing was a key. And twenty-eight-year-old me finally relied on myself to get to a place that would never lock the door on me.