In the 90s, you could acquire max-level skills every 14 days.

Zhang Defa didn't dare to look up.

He slowly walked to the door, took out a box of cigarettes and matches from under the shoe cabinet, and squatted down on the porch in front of his house.

It took three matches to light.

He took a deep breath, and smoke billowed from his nostrils, dispersing into a cloud under the dim hallway lights.

Li Guilan followed to the door, her voice even louder than before.

"What are you squatting there for? Why are you smoking?! Say something, Zhang Defa!"

"I've done the math! It's over eight thousand yuan!"

Her voice became shrill, and she poked at the air with her fingers.

"Over eight thousand yuan! That's enough to save up for half a house for our family. We've been working long enough to buy a house!"

"You tell me every day—'Save money, save money for the kids' future education and marriage.' I believed you! I saved! I tried to stretch every penny to its limit!"

"They won't even let you order a proper meat dish at the cafeteria! It's just sweet potatoes and pickled vegetables every day! You say you like this?! You like it my ass! You're just saving it to send back to Baoding!"

Li Guilan's tears finally fell.

"Zhang Defa, how many years have you been lying to me?"

Zhang Defa squatted on the threshold, a cigarette between his fingers, without saying a word.

It's not that I don't want to talk about it, it's that I can't.

Zhang Yong picked up the stack of remittance slips on the table and flipped through them one by one.

The handwriting in the remarks column is quite ugly; it's all Zhang Defa's handwriting.

"The old house is leaking."

"The young lady broke her leg."

"My second brother's family bought fertilizer."

"My eldest brother's eldest son is getting married."

"The fifth one ran away, let's look for him again."

Zhang Yong put the stub back on the table without saying a word.

He knew in his heart that his father had acted dishonestly.

He had seen too many of these kinds of things online in his past life. When he entered a certain forum, all he saw were posts like: "What should I do if I'm being exploited by my family of origin?"

Terms like "brother-supporting demon" and "family bloodsuckers" are already overused in 2026. The comments under every post are the same—run away, sever ties with them, ignore them, don't be a sucker.

But what's the point of putting on a hat?

A clean break on the keyboard is not so easy in reality; life isn't a wish-fulfillment story.

Besides, this is 90 years ago.

Dinner was still cooked by Li Guilan.

Stir-fried cabbage with vinegar, pickled radish strips, and corn porridge.

There was no meat and no eggs.

Li Guilan placed the dishes on the table without saying a word. After setting the bowls and chopsticks, she sat down, ate a couple of mouthfuls of porridge, and then put them down again.

Zhang Defa sat at the table, the bowl in front of him untouched.

Zhang Yong placed a piece of pickled radish into his father's bowl.

"Dad, time to eat."

Zhang Defa glanced at him, picked up his bowl, and chewed a piece of radish.

Zhang Yong then put another piece of cabbage into Li Guilan's bowl.

"Mom, you eat too."

Li Guilan didn't touch her chopsticks. It made sense; Zhang Yong had brought back several hundred yuan a while ago, and Li Guilan felt that good days had finally arrived.

She had calculated that with Yongzi's earning speed, plus the savings she and her husband had accumulated over the years, she could easily make a fortune.

Not only are they not worried about tuition fees, but with their years of service, the elderly couple can easily upgrade to a larger apartment by purchasing a few more items from their workplace and have a new set of wardrobes made.

Once Yongzi marries and enters the family, my mission in this life will be complete.

Zhang Yong put down his bowl.

"Dad, please explain the situation back home to Mom and me clearly. Tell us everything at once."

Zhang Defa stopped chewing on the radish strips.

"Your mother and I aren't blaming you," Zhang Yong said calmly. "But we can't continue being so muddle-headed."

Zhang Defa remained silent for a long time.

So long that Li Guilan thought he was going to keep quiet again.

Then he spoke.

I have eight siblings.

Li Guilan raised her eyelids. Over the years, he rarely brought up his hometown. She knew that her parents-in-law had passed away long ago and that he had several siblings, but Zhang Defa never went into detail about how many they were or what they did.

"Including me, there are six survivors."

"The remaining brothers are my eldest brother, Zhang Dewang; my second brother, Zhang Dequan; my younger sister, Zhang Cuifen; and my fourth brother, Zhang Deming."

"The youngest, the fifth. Zhang Desheng. Thirty."

Zhang Defa paused for a moment.

"Last month, Desheng called. He said that his previous girlfriend left him because he was poor. He asked someone to introduce him to another woman, but her family wanted a dowry of 500 yuan. He didn't have the money, so he asked if I could help him out. I gave him 200 yuan first."

"I gave."

Li Guilan slammed her chopsticks on the table.

"Getting a wife in the village doesn't cost that much! Do you think I don't know? This is just a roundabout way of asking you for money!"

Her voice suddenly rose to a high pitch, and tears followed.

"You're not the boss, why are you bothering with this? The money's already been given! Where's the IOU? Did they even write a single IOU?! Fifth Brother's wife ran away because she was poor—you gave him two hundred—can he even afford it?!"

"Yongzi's eighteen! In two more years, he should be getting married and buying a house!"

She wiped her face with the back of her hand, crying so hard she couldn't lift her head, her tears falling into the porridge and creating a small crater.

"What are you going to do with my daughter and me, Zhang Defa!"

Zhang Defa lowered his head, his rough hands rubbing the fabric of his trousers above his knees.

After rubbing for a while, he finally said something in a low voice.

"I don't want to give it either."

"But as soon as they call, they start crying and making a scene. Sometimes when I go back to my hometown, they tell the villagers that I, Zhang Defa, am living a life of luxury in Beijing and don't care about my hometown. If I don't give them what they want, they'll cause trouble at the factory."

"They think that since I work as a laborer in Beijing and get paid every day, I should be in charge of them."

"I'm the third child, with younger brothers and sisters. After our parents passed away, I was the one who took care of them. My father held my hand before he passed away and said, 'You've made it out here, you have to take care of the family.'"

His voice grew softer and softer.

"They said they would pay it back."

The living room fell silent.

The ceiling fan creaked and groaned as it turned, a small piece of newspaper stuck to the blades, swaying slightly with each rotation.

Zhang Yong recalled a video he had seen in his past life.

A middle-aged man stood in front of a tall building in the village and said, "I've worked outside for twenty years and built three houses for my hometown, but not a single one of them is mine."

The comment section is filled with tens of thousands of messages, all criticizing the family of origin and the man's lack of ambition.

But in that video, the man's eyes no longer held any resentment, only resignation.

He looks exactly like Zhang Defa in front of me.

"Dad." Zhang Yong's voice was calm, as if he were talking about something that had nothing to do with him.

"I understand you."

"So, the debt collector we just took to the police station, the IOU he had was genuine?"

"Although the handwriting isn't very neat, it is indeed my uncle's handwriting. I know you noticed, but you just didn't dare to say it."

"Dad, about 70% of these IOUs were sent to my uncle, right? Tell me, my uncle lives in the countryside of Baoding. He owns land, houses, children, and with your subsidies, why would he need to borrow money from loan sharks?"

"You're always thinking about subsidizing them, but do you even know where that money goes?"

Zhang Defa hurriedly raised his head.

"Now the debt collectors have come to our house. Do you think our family will have any good days ahead?"

"We chased them away today, but what will we do if my mom is home alone next time?"

Zhang Yong raised his eyes, his tone calm.

"Dad, Mom, from now on, I'll manage all the money in the house."

"I'll handle the matter in Baoding."

......