Calculated Affection

My father won five million dollars in the lottery. My friend and I were planning to open a shop, just three thousand dollars short. I asked my family for a loan, but they flatly refused.

How old are you? Solve your own problems.

Our money doesnt grow on trees. Why should we let you waste it all?

Left with no choice, I took out a high-interest online loan. Just after the money arrived in my account, my cousin posted a picture of a brand-new Electric Falcon 7 on social media. Thanks to Uncle for the support, I finally got the car Ive been dreaming of.

It was then I realized that because my uncle casually mentioned his son wanted a car, my father had immediately transferred two hundred thousand dollars to him. Hearing that he hadnt even bothered with an IOU, I felt utterly disheartened.

Ten days later, my mother called, immediately launching into a furious tirade. Ethan, its your fathers birthday today. Why arent you coming back to celebrate?

Not even a phone call. What kind of son are you?

Raising a dog would be better than raising you!

I calmly replied: If thats the case, then just pretend you never raised me.

No sooner had I spoken than my mother exploded. Are you even human? Youre making me furious! After twenty years of hard work, I raised such an ungrateful brat!

We gave birth to you, raised you, fed you, clothed you, sent you to college. Now your wings are strong?

How dare you say such things to us?

Her voice was sharp, every word laced with poison. I get it. Its just because we didnt lend you money to open your shop last time, isnt it?

What a joke! With your pathetic self, you think you can start a business?

With that little bit of skill, youll lose everything after three days of enthusiasm!

Three thousand dollars thrown into water would at least make a splash. Given to you? You probably wouldnt even have a whisper left!

She grew more agitated with each insult, her words becoming increasingly hurtful. The money is ours. How we use it is none of your business!

You good-for-nothing, cant earn money so you eye your familys wealth. Have you no shame?

Im telling you, even if this money is thrown away, burned, or donated, its better than you throwing it down the drain!

Youre not cut out for business. Just get a regular job and earn your few thousand dollars.

Your ambition is sky-high, but your fate is thin as paper. Thats exactly what a waste like you is!

I gripped the phone, my fingertips icy, silent. On the other end, I heard her ragged breathing, as if she was about to faint from anger, interspersed with sounds of her slapping her chest and others trying to console her.

After a while, someone else took the phone. Ethan, its your Aunt Lillian.

Dont be angry with your mother. She only means well.

You, son, how could you not come back for your fathers birthday, such an important occasion?

Whats so difficult that a family cant get past it?

Your parents worked hard to raise you. What will relatives and friends think if they knew you were acting like this?

You cant be so selfish

She stood on her moral high ground, rattling off those righteous words like a mantra. I listened quietly until she angrily asked, Why exactly wont you come back? You must have a reason, right?

I took a deep breath. The reason is simple.

My father casually gave you two hundred thousand dollars to buy a car, without even needing an IOU.

But when I needed just three thousand for my startup, he wouldnt lend me a single cent.

Is that reason enough?

The line went silent for a moment. A few seconds later, Aunt Lillians voice became hesitant. Well, this this was your fathers decision. We couldnt really say anything

Besides, that money was a loan to your cousin. Hell pay it back eventually

Pay it back? I interrupted her. Without an IOU, how will he pay it back? Aunt Lillian, honestly, do you even believe what youre saying?

She choked, unable to utter a coherent sentence. At that moment, my mother snatched the phone back, her rage burning even fiercer due to my defiance.

Yes! We gave it to him! So what?

Our money, we can give it to whoever we want!

Were happy to buy your cousin a car! What right do you have to question me? Who do you think you are?

Im telling you, Ethan, with your attitude, youll never get a single cent from us again!

Opening a shop? If you lose money, go sell your blood, sell your kidney!

Just dont come to us!

We raised you for so long, and you havent shown much promise, but youve learned to tally up debts with your family?

Your cousin at least knows gratitude. He often comes back to visit us during holidays.

And you? Havent shown your face in half a year, and the one time you call, its for money!

Do we owe you something?

If I had known you were this kind of person, I should have aborted you when I was pregnant!

I listened, and a sudden urge to laugh welled up. When her shouting finally paused, I spoke softly: Youre right.

Its your money. Give it to whoever you want.

I truly have no right to question it.

I paused, feeling my throat tighten, but I pressed on. Since thats the case, from now on, pretend you never had me.

Ill disappear quietly. I wont ask you for another cent, and I wont bother you again.

A few seconds later, my mothers furious scream came through the phone. I didnt listen further and hung up.

The world was finally quiet.

I stared at my phone screen. The three thousand dollars from the online loan had been deposited. The interest was high, and the repayment schedule was suffocating. Originally, this should have been a warm start, backed by my parents support. Now, it was just a debt.

I opened my cousins social media. The post showing off his Electric Falcon 7 was still there. In the photo, he sat in the brand-new drivers seat, hands on the steering wheel, a radiant smile on his face. Below it was a string of likes and congratulations, my parents accounts prominently featured. They had even commented things like, Family doesnt need formalities, and Our nephew is so accomplished. How ironic.

From childhood, my parents were always exceptionally strict with me. No noise while eating, perfect posture, always in the top ten academically. As for pocket money? Non-existent. Theyd say, What does a child need money for? Just focus on your studies. But whenever my cousin, Leo, came to visit, my father would always smile and pull a few bills from his wallet, tucking them into Leos hand. Here, Leo, buy something nice. Then hed turn to me and say, Youre the older brother, you should defer to your younger cousin. I was eight then, Leo was six.

In sixth grade, I saved up three months worth of discarded items to sell, just enough to get twenty dollars to buy a set of encyclopedias. My mother found out, confiscated the money, and lectured me. Whats the use of reading these frivolous books? You should be doing more math problems with that time. The next day, I saw Leo playing wildly with a new remote-control car in the living room. That car cost exactly twenty dollars.

In middle school, the school organized a field trip to the Ocean Park, costing one hundred and fifty dollars. I cautiously asked my parents. My father didnt even look up. Whats so great about that place? Its a waste of money. Stay home and study on the weekend. I locked myself in my room until I heard laughter from the living room. My uncles family had arrived, and my father excitedly announced that he would take Leo to the Ocean Park next week. Dont worry about the expensive tickets, your Uncle will take you. Well play all we want! Later, I cried under my blanket. That was the first time I wondered if I was truly their biological child. But the next day, my mother earnestly told me, We are strict with you because we have high expectations for you.

Your cousins family isnt well off. We should help them when we can.

Youre the older brother, you need to be sensible. Her words were so sincere, her eyes so earnest, that my doubts felt like a sin.

Throughout my three years of high school, my monthly allowance was fifty dollars. At school, that money was barely enough for the cheapest cafeteria meals, and I often went hungry. I dared not participate in any activities that required money. Even sending a greeting card for a classmates birthday was something I hesitated over for a long time. Once, my father visited me at school and happened to see me eating plain rice with free seaweed soup in the cafeteria. He frowned. Why are you eating so poorly? This is when youre growing. You need balanced nutrition. I thought he pitied me, that he would give me more money. Instead, he turned around and said, But its good to be tough. It builds character. A few days later, I heard Leo had enrolled in piano lessons, tuition costing four hundred and eighty dollars. My father sponsored two-thirds of it.

I went to college out of state, thinking I could finally breathe. But my living expenses were still tight, eighty dollars a month. After paying for phone and internet, there was barely enough left for food. My roommates would gather for meals, go to the movies, shop, all happily. I could only find excuses to stay in the library. Once, I couldnt refuse, bit the bullet and went, then ate instant noodles for half a month afterward.

During winter break of my sophomore year, I was going to the bathroom at night and overheard a conversation from my parents bedroom. Honey, is Ethans allowance too little? Prices have gone up. My father frowned. Too little? Whats too little? Boys need to be raised tough. By the way, Leo said yesterday he wanted a new phone. I took three hundred from your account. My mother chuckled softly. Thats fine. The boy is so sweet. He even said hed take care of us when he earns money.

I stood outside the door, my hands and feet freezing.

After graduating from college, I struggled to find a job. I called home, cautiously asking if they could help me look for any opportunities. My father was blunt: We dont have those connections. You need to make your own way.

Also, we wont spend another cent on you. Youre twenty-two; its time to be independent.

That month, I lived in a partitioned room in a slum, eating two steamed buns a day. I submitted hundreds of resumes, received only three interview invitations, all of which failed. At my lowest point, I had only seven dollars and thirty cents left in my bank account.

Just as I was at my wits end, my cousins social media updated. He had landed a job at a local state-owned enterprise, with excellent benefits. In the photo, he wore a brand-new suit, with an impressive office building in the background. My parents were the first to comment below:

Our nephew is amazing!

Keep up the good work. Auntie is proud of you!

I later learned that my father had pulled several strings to get him that position. He had an old classmate who was a manager there. My father treated him to three dinners, gave him two good cartons of cigarettes and a large cash gift, just to get my cousin in.

I asked my mother why. She replied casually, Your cousin doesnt have as good an education as you. If we dont help him, who will?

Youre a graduate from a top university. Do you still need someone to worry about you?

Every single incident, taken individually, could be given a righteous excuse by them. To toughen me up, to help relatives, to make me independent, to be fair These justifications, strung together, formed the fabric of my life for over twenty years.

Putting down my phone, I started packing. This tiny apartment, less than ten square meters, was my only refuge after graduation. A bed, a simple wardrobe, a secondhand deskthat was all my worldly possessions. As I cleaned out the desk drawer, I found an old tin box. Opening it, I found a few odds and ends: an elementary school award certificate for good citizenship, a middle school math competition certificate, a photocopy of my university acceptance letter, and a few crumpled family photos.

The newest family photo was taken two springs ago. I stood at the very edge, my expression stiff. My cousin stood between my parents, smiling brightly. My fathers hand rested on my cousins shoulder, and my mother had her arm around him. Anyone who didnt know us would think they were the biological father and son.

I stared at the photo for a long time, then tore it in half, then into shreds, and threw it into the trash.

The next day, I went to work as usual. During my lunch break, I received a call from an unknown number. Ethan, its me, your Uncle James. I paused. Can I help you?

What did you mean by that yesterday? What do you mean, pretend you never had me?

Do you know how furious your mother is right now? Her blood pressure is through the roof!

I coldly replied, Then you should take her to the hospital, not call me.

You! Uncle James choked. How did you become like this? Do you know how hard your parents worked to raise you?

Is it just because we didnt lend you money? Does it have to escalate to this?

Its not just about the money, but it doesnt matter anymore.

Is there anything else? I need to rest.

Wait! Uncle James quickly said, Theres something I need to clarify. About your cousins car that money, your father offered to give it. We didnt ask for it!

And we will definitely pay it back, were just a bit tight on cash right now

Uncle James, I interrupted him. Whether you pay it back or not is between you and my father. It has nothing to do with me.

Im still taking my nap. Hanging up.

Ethan! Ethan!

I hung up the phone and blocked the number.

During a break at work that afternoon, I secretly searched for commercial rental information, contacting several real estate agents. After work, I looked at two places, neither ideal. Either the rent was too high, or the location wasnt good. That night, I returned to my apartment and made a bowl of instant noodles. As I was eating, there was a knock at the door. I opened it to find my parents, along with a few relatives. Uncle James, Aunt Lillian, and a distant aunt.

They squeezed into the narrow apartment, all looking grim. Ethan, youve really grown up, havent you?! My mother spoke first, her voice sharp and piercing. Saying such outrageous things on the phone, and even cutting ties with us? Who taught you that?!

Exactly, its utterly disgraceful. Aunt Lillian folded her arms, her eyes sweeping around the room, her lips pursed. Your parents worked so hard to come here, and youre making your elders stand?