Chapter 1 — The Price of Contempt

Just because of a country accent... my husband wants to kick my mother out of the house. The next morning, I let the whole family know who was the "hometown" person. My mother came from the countryside to help me take care of my child. That day, taking her grandchild for a walk in the area, she conveniently greeted neighbors in the local language. At night, my husband stood in front of the room door, his face black as ink:

"Can't you control your mother? Don't you feel humiliated by talking like that? The neighbors thought we hired a nanny from the countryside."

I thought my mother-in-law would help me with a few words. After all, she helped babysit me for free for two years. Unexpectedly, her mother-in-law was scrolling through her phone and let out a nonchalant sentence:

"If your mother can't fix it, then don't go out in the neighborhood anymore. Otherwise people will laugh."

I don't argue. Not noisy either. The next morning, I directly transferred my child's household registration to my mother's name. That "countryside" that they criticized... five years ago was cleared up. The school district where they spent money and had connections still couldn't get in... Just my mother's house was enough. After the mother-in-law finished saying that, her head still did not lift up, her fingers continued to scroll on the phone screen. My mother stood in the middle of the living room, holding my son - Tieu Nien, who was only one and a half years old. She bowed her head, not daring to say a word. Tieu Nien raised her chubby little hand, grabbed the faded red string around her neck, and chuckled. My mother quickly comforted her child, her voice lowered very low. But the last sound still unconsciously carries a country accent. Phuong Vien Chau immediately frowned and raised her hand to point at my mother.

"Okay, don't say that kind of thing in front of your child anymore. I don't want Tieu Nien to go to school and speak with a country accent."

My mother moved her lips slightly, then swallowed again, just gently patting Tieu Nien's back. The room was silent for a few seconds. At this moment, the mother-in-law put down the phone, stood up from the sofa, her tone seemed devoted.

“An Ninh, don't blame me for speaking frankly.”

“Your mother is kind enough to help take care of you, and our family is grateful.”

"But look, where is our area? Vien Chau's colleagues, its leaders, all live around here."

"Your mother dresses like that, talks like that, and even takes her for a walk in the neighborhood... what will people think of our house?"

I looked at my mother-in-law. I used my salary to buy the purple cashmere coat she was wearing last month. As for the gray cotton shirt on my mother's body, she brought it from the countryside. It's not that my mother regrets money. It's that she feels like going to someone's house to help take care of the child, and dressing too nicely is not appropriate. When I first came up, I used to buy new clothes for her. She received it, but never wore it. Just store it at the bottom of the cabinet in the storage room, folded neatly. At that time I thought she was frugal. Now I understand, she was afraid that dressing better... would make people even more uncomfortable. Phuong Vien Chau saw that I didn't say anything, thinking I had tacitly agreed, her voice also softened.

“I'm not aiming at your mother either.”

“It's just that what happened today... really made me feel awkward.”

"Do you know who is next door? It's the deputy chief of my department."

"Today his wife saw my mother squatting next to the flower bed talking in the local language. She turned around and posted to the residents' group: 'Since when does our area have another maid with a country accent? Who rents the house?'"

“When I saw that message, I just wanted to find a hole to hide in.”

After speaking, he gave me the phone. On the screen, the chat in the resident group clearly visible. Below are some people following along:

"Is that building 15? I see an old lady pushing a baby stroller."

"Probably Mr. Phuong's house, he hired a nanny in the countryside."

Phuong Vien Chau pulled out his phone and typed a few words in the input box. I glanced at:

“That's my mother-in-law, not the nanny.”

He looked at that text for two seconds. Then one by one... erased. I looked at those text messages, my fingertips numb. The "Nanny of General Phuong's house" they talk about... is my mother. My biological mother. A sixty-year-old woman, in order to help me take care of my children, left everything in the countryside and came to this city. She is not a nanny. She is Tieu Nien's grandmother. I'm the person who gets up every morning at five to make milk. As someone who wakes up three or four times a night, he works harder than anyone else. But in the eyes of the whole building, she was just a "maid with a country accent". As for my husband, it's not like he doesn't know that's wrong. He typed that sentence... then deleted it again. Because, for him, defending my mother... is not worth saving face. What's the funniest thing? The first time Phuong Vien Chau came to my house. My mother rolled noodles for him to eat herself, talking in a countryside accent while doing so. He ate three bowls in a row, giving him a thumbs up:

“Auntie, your voice sounds so familiar, just like my grandmother in the past.”

My mother was happy for a whole week. Everyone I met said I had found a good son-in-law, without criticism. At that time, he found my mother's country accent warm. What about now? It's still the same voice... Again, it becomes "disgraceful" and "homely" in his mouth. The person who changed… Not my mother. That night, I didn't sleep well. At three o'clock in the morning, Tieu Nien burst into tears. As soon as I turned over, I heard a soft noise from the storage room. My mother is already awake. The room is less than five square meters and has no windows. Summer is as hot as an oven, winter is cold to the bone. Next to the wall is a folding bed, next to a stack of old cardboard boxes and miscellaneous items that my mother-in-law no longer uses. My mother slept there for two years. The house is three rooms and a living room. The main room is for me and Phuong Vien Chau, the second room is for my mother-in-law, the remaining room is for Phuong Vien San. Phuong Vien San is Phuong Vien Chau's younger sister. She doesn't have a stable job in the city, but comes home at least ten days a month. The title means "returning to the maternal home". Phuong Vien Chau says:

"Your sister comes home sometimes, so maybe she doesn't have a place to sleep."

The mother-in-law also chimed in:

"Vien San is having a hard time outside. If you have a place to live, you can rest assured."

So that fifteen square meter room was kept for Phuong Vien San. Even though she's not there, the room is still locked. When my mother arrived, there was no room left. I once suggested letting my mother stay in that room. Phuong Vien Chau immediately refused:

"You want my sister to go home and sleep on the sofa? Can you hear me?"

The mother-in-law spoke even more firmly:

“Your mother won't be here long, just be patient.”

It's been two years. She worked hard to stay in this house for two years. The next day, I went to work as usual. At noon, Phuong Vien San suddenly sent a message to the family group.

"Brother, I'm taking Han Triet home for dinner today. Please tell my sister-in-law first."

Han Triet is her new boyfriend. I heard that he works at an investment company and his conditions are not bad. Phuong Vien Chau immediately replied:

“Okay, let mom prepare some dishes.”

Then he privately texted me:

“Tonight, Vien San brought her boyfriend home to eat, she said Talk to your mother and tell her not to go out."

“Don't do it like last time, you'll lose face.”

I stared at the sentence “don't go out”.