This Time, I Picked Dad

My mom was a university professor. She always said the biggest regret of her life was marrying my dada man who'd blown up as a livestream shopping host.

So materialistic. So tacky.

Eventually, they divorced. In my last life, I chose my momthe one who seemed above it all, who didn't care about money.

What a mistake.

I bought a new dress? "Wasteful." I wanted to grab dinner with friends on the weekend? She slapped me across the face.

When my period came and I wanted decent tampons, I got screamed at.

"You're just like your fatherobsessed with money! You're such a disappointment!"

Later, my uncle's investment failed and he drowned in debt. When he tried to sell me to an underground matchmaking ring for bride money, I begged my mom through tears to save me.

She just frowned. "You won't even help your own uncle? You're as selfish as your father!"

In the end, my uncle sold me to some fifty-year-old bachelor in the mountains. I died falling off a cliff trying to escape.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the moment of their divorcethe moment they asked me to choose.

"So what if I used your money? My brother needs startup capital for his business. I gave him fifty thousand dollars. What's the problem?"

"Money, money, moneythat's all you care about. You spend your days playing a clown on livestream. Have you no shame?"

"Being an influencer isn't impressive! You have zero depth. No wonder your follower count keeps dropping!"

"Let's get divorced. I have nothing left to say to you."

Mom was tearing into Dad.

Dad gripped his phone, knuckles white.

He'd been live streaming until 3 AM last night to clear his inventory. His eyes were bloodshot.

His voice came out hoarse:

"Fine, we'll divorce. But that fifty thousand was my college fund for Emma. You need to get it back."

Mom acted like she'd heard something absurd. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

Then they both turned to look at me.

"Emma, you're old enough now. After we divorce, you decide who you want to live with."

Mom tossed the question at me like it weighed nothing. But Dad's eyes were red-rimmed as he gently touched my head.

"This is Dad's fault. I'm sorry you had to see this. It has nothing to do with you."

Watching this sceneidentical to my last lifemy heart pounded like a drum.

Mom sat primly in a chair surrounded by stacks of old books, her expression arrogant.

Dad anxiously ran his fingers through his hair, dry and brittle from too much dyeing.

In my last life, I thought Mom was calm, wise, cultured.

So I chose her without hesitation.

But after living with her for two years, I understood: Dad's anxiety and frustration? She caused it.

She constantly belittled him.

And her brother? He endlessly demanded money from Dad.

Remembering what happened in my previous life, I threw myself at Dad and grabbed his arm.

"Dad, I'm staying with you."

Dad froze. His eyes instantly grew redder.

Mom just raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a knowing, contemptuous smile.

"Of course. She inherited your inferior genes. Shallow, just like you."

Dad immediately covered my ears with his hands. The gesture was clumsy but careful.

"Since Emma's staying with me, please return that fifty thousand as soon as possible. I'll have a lawyer handle the rest of the assets."

I pulled Dad's hands down and looked up at Mom.

"Someone as above-it-all as yousomeone who treats money like dirtsurely doesn't care about a little cash, right? After all, you have your dignity."

Mom's indifferent expression froze for a second before she recovered her haughty composure.

"Fine. I'll leave with nothing. This house reeks of greed anyway. I should have left long ago."

She stood, took only a few thick books from the shelf, packed them in a faded cloth bag, and took nothing else.

Before leaving, she glanced at melike she was looking at a fallen soul.

"I hope you don't lose yourself in the pursuit of money."

I smiled.

Lose myself?

I hoped that when her brother squeezed every last drop of value from her, she wouldn't regret today's choice.

In my last life, I chose Mom.

Dad left heartbroken, taking almost nothingjust his livestream equipment and a few clothes.

That fifty thousand? Mom transferred it to my uncle that same day.

My uncle opened a "caf"fancy dcor, eighty-eight dollars for a cup of coffee.

It went bankrupt in two months.

After it closed, my uncle's family naturally moved into our placethe run-down house near Mom's university.

At first, they just made Mom give up the master bedroom because my uncle's wife, Patricia, was pregnant and needed quiet.

Then they made me go to the grocery store after school every day, then come home and cook.

I was preparing for my SATs at the time, trying to get into a good college. I was busy.

So I refused to do their chores.

But Mom said: "Family helps each other. Don't be cold like your father."

Gradually, buying new clothes became "wasteful."

Wanting to eat at a restaurant with friends became "consumerism."

I couldn't even buy decent tampons during my period.

Seeing I had zero autonomy, my uncle's family let their son take over my desk.

When I tried to get my desk back to do homework, Mom said:

"Why are you acting just like your father!"

In that moment, I felt frozen to the bone.

I wasn't spending recklessly. I just wanted basic study conditions and a shred of dignity. But in her mouth, that made me selfish.

Meanwhile, my uncle blew through our money, failed at every investment, and ended up buried in debt.

When he hit rock bottom, he listened to some shady broker and tried to "marry" me off to some rich old man in a remote rural area.

I knelt before Mom, crying until I couldn't breathe.

She just frowned: "Your uncle has no other options. If you can help him, that's your value."

In the end, I was tied up and stuffed into a van, sold into the mountains.

The night I tried to escape, it was pouring rain. The road was slippery. I missed my footing and fell off the cliff.

---

Dad really was an influencerthe insanely lucky kind.

He used to be an ordinary office worker. After getting laid off, he tried making funny short videos. Somehow, a "immersive supermarket free sample tasting" video went viral.

Then he started livestream selling and made some money.

Mom was an associate professor of English Literature. Deep down, she looked down on Dad's jobthought he was playing a clown on screen. Embarrassing.

After Dad made money, the first thing he wanted was to move out of our old house. Mom refused.

Dad wanted to sign me up for a good dance class. Mom objectedshe said the costumes were too sexy, that it was dancing to please men.

I knew Dad was under a lot of pressure with his livestreams. The industry was cutthroat. He never went to college, so he had to rack his brain to entertain his followers just to keep them.

But competition was fierce, and his numbers really were declining.

After Mom left, I went to clean her room.

The irony.

On her desk sat a luxury fountain penseveral thousand dollars for just one.

Her closet held several dresses made of expensive fabric.

In her vanity drawer: unopened high-end perfume.

She was the one who loved luxury goods, yet she constantly called Dad tacky and me vain.

This time, without Dad's financial support, I wanted to see how she'd maintain that elegance and superiority.

Just as I was thinking this, someone pounded loudly on my door.

I went downstairs. My uncle had already barged in, pointing at Dad's face and cursing.

"That fifty thousand was a gift from my sister! She already wrote up a gift agreement! Now, right when my caf just went undermy hardest timeyou want the money back? Are you even human?"

"Your daughter doesn't need fifty thousand for college! What's the point of her reading so many books? She's just going to get married anyway!"

His shameless attitudeexactly the same as my last life.

The difference was, this time, Dad stood straight in front of me.

Dad wasn't tall, but standing in front of me now, he was like a wall. He shouted at my uncle:

"Your business failedwhat does that have to do with me? That money was for my daughter's education. I'm divorcing your sister. I have no obligation to help you anymore."

At the word "divorce," a calculating gleam flashed in my uncle's eyes.

"Divorce? Grace never mentioned that to me. If you're getting divorced, you'll have to split assets, right? This house, the car, the savings... my sister gets at least half!"

Dad laughed in disbelief.

I stepped forward with a smile.

"Uncle, didn't you check with Mom before coming? She said she won't take a single penny after the divorce. Mom's a professor. She doesn't care about money."

My uncle's eyes went wide.

"What? Has Grace lost her mind?!"

Dad pushed my uncle toward the door:

"You want money? Tell Grace to come talk to me herself."

I smirked. I wanted to see if Mom could stay so proud when facing her greedy brother.

We waited two days. Nothing from Mom.

But things on Dad's end got worse.

His livestream numbers kept dropping. Several brand partners wanted to terminate their contracts. Between the penalties and his previous investments, he was deep in debt.

He couldn't sleep at night. He'd stand on the balcony chain-smoking, jumping every time his phone rang.

It hurt to watch. I spoke up:

"Dad, let's get that fifty thousand back. We can pay off some of the debt."

Dad shook his head, voice hoarse: "That was for you... Dad's useless."

"Dad," I looked him in the eye, "I believe in you. You built everything from nothing before. You can do it again. Let's get through this first. For college, I can earn scholarships or work part-time."

Dad's eyes reddened. He rubbed my head hard.

"I thought... you'd be embarrassed by me. That you'd leave with your mom."

"Silly girl."

In my last life with Mom, I didn't lack much materially, but my heart died.

This life with Dad might be hard for now, but my heart was warm.

"Dad, we need to get that money fast. Someone like Uncle will just throw it away."

With my insistence, Dad finally sent Mom a formal message demanding the fifty thousand back.

Mom replied with one line: "How vulgar."

Then she blocked him.

Looks like we'd need another approach.

I had Dad pull the transfer records and my uncle's so-called gift agreement.

Full of holes, as expected. Mom had only verbally agreed. The transfer was labeled loan.The gift document my uncle typed up didn't even have a fingerprint.

We consulted a lawyer. He said we could absolutely sue to recover the money.

Dad hesitated"They're still family"but I had the lawyer send a formal demand letter immediately.

The effect was instant.

The next day, my uncle showed up downstairs, furious, but too scared to come up. He just stood there cursing at the street.

"David! Are you even human? Suing your own brother-in-law over some money?"

"My sister really hit rock bottom marrying you! And your ungrateful daughter is a totally a bitch."

Dad wanted to go down and confront him. I held him back, grabbed my phone, opened the camera, and walked to the balcony.

"Uncle, got the lawyer's letter? That fifty thousand was for my educationwe have the transfer records to prove it. Either pay up, or we'll see you in court. If you keep yelling and disturbing the neighbors, I'll call the cops for noise disturbance."

You you

My uncle pointed at me, his finger shaking, but no words came out.

After a long moment, he finally snapped,

Just you wait!

Then he turned and hurried out, looking completely humiliated.

Dad looked at me with a complicated expressionsurprise and guilt mixed together.

"Emma, you shouldn't have to deal with this..."

"Dad, we're family." I linked my arm through his. "We'll get through this together."