They Wanted My Daughter to Be Their Monkey, So I Ruined Them All.

My cousin, Ivy, is thirty, but every holiday season, she's still made to perform for our older relatives in ridiculous costumes.

I've told Ivy more than once, You're thirty, you're an adult. You don't have to act like a kid and do everything the elders say.

But every time, Ivy never dared to defy them.

Until this year, when she prepared another monkey costume for a performance.

I originally planned to just let it go.

But then she directly put the monkey costume on my six-year-old daughter, Lily.

"This year, it's our little Lily's turn to show respect to the elders!"

I stared, aghast, at my cousin, who was acting like a minion serving her masters by dragging others down, and at all the smug-faced elders in the room.

A wave of sorrow and anger washed over me.

Without hesitation, I ripped the monkey costume off Lily, took her hand, and walked out.

"A room full of people, hundreds of years old combined, and you still love watching others act like monkeys."

"Whoever wants to play the monkey can do it. But my daughter and I are done with it."

The faces of everyone in the room immediately darkened.

My uncle, Michael, slammed his hand on the table. "What kind of attitude is that?! It's the holidays, you have no respect!"

I looked at him, speaking calmly and clearly, "If your 'respect' means preying on children for your amusement, then I'm sorry, but I have my own rules."

With that, I led Lily out the door.

Lily's small hand was clenched tightly in mine; I could feel her unease.

Since my parents passed away, I rarely brought Lily home for the holidays.

Maintaining superficial contact all these years was purely out of respect for my parents, to save them face.

And also to inquire about Lily's kindergarten enrollment.

But if they thought they could use that to control me, they were gravely mistaken.

Just as we reached the doorstep, Ivy ran after us.

She grabbed my arm. "Sarah, don't be like this. It's the holidays, let's not make everyone unhappy."

Her tone was gentle, but I could see calculation in her eyes.

I knew her too well.

Thirty years old and still clinging to mommy's apron strings? All because Uncle Michael promised her an old house, right?

"Sarah..."

I cut her off directly. "Ivy, if you want that old house, if you want to play dumb and be a 'filial' daughter, that's your business."

"Even if you're fifty and still haven't cut the cord, I won't care. But you're dragging my six-year-old daughter into this? Are you seriously acting like a minion now, trying to find new victims?"

Hearing "cut the cord" and "minion," Ivy's face flushed instantly.

I couldn't be bothered to waste any more words on her. I picked up Lily and headed for her car seat in the back.

But Ivy quickly followed, her voice rising, sharp and shrill. "What are you trying to prove, acting so high and mighty? You only came back because you're hoping Uncle Michael will help your daughter get into that elite elementary school, right?! Now you're pretending to be some independent modern woman!"

I buckled Lily into her seat, gently stroked her head, and prepared to drive off.

I was truly too lazy to argue with someone so foolish.

But Ivy wouldn't give up. She still clung to my car window, gritting her teeth. "Sarah! For that school spot, I don't believe you won't back down!"

I glanced at her in the rearview mirror, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. "Family help is just a backup plan. If I really want my daughter to get in, I can just buy her a spot."

"I don't need to be like you, thirty years old, and can't fight for anything yourself except acting like a monkey."

Ivy's face turned from green to white; she was clearly deeply stung.

"What's so great about you?! You just married a good husband, your parents died early and left you an inheritance. You just got lucky with where you were born!"

I stepped on the gas, and before the window fully closed, I threw her a final line. "If you can't stand me, you can go get yourself a better life, then. It's not too late to try again."

The window closed.

In the rearview mirror, Ivy stood frozen. Then she suddenly squatted down, covering her face and weeping.

Lily, in the backseat, peered through the window at her aunt getting smaller in the distance.

She quietly asked me, "Mommy, Aunt Ivy is crying. Aren't we going to help her?"

I took a deep breath, offering Lily a gentle smile through the rearview mirror. "Honey, she's not crying because she's sad. She's crying because her designated victim was gone. And that victim was supposed to be us."

Lily nodded, seeming to understand and not understand at the same time. "Then, Mommy, we won't be a designated victim."

"That's right, we absolutely won't."

By the time we got home, darkness had completely fallen.

My husband was back in his hometown for the holidays, so it was just Lily and me at home.

The house felt empty, but free of the fake and ridiculous family drama, which brought me a sense of peace.

After tucking Lily into bed, a flurry of abusive messages from relatives popped up on my phone.

I scrolled through them emotionlessly, but then a new message caught my eye.

It was from Principal Davies of the elite elementary school.

"Lily's Mom, Happy Holidays."

"I'm so sorry to bother you, but I need to inform you about something. Our Lily's admission assessment wasn't approved. You might want to look into other schools."

I stared at the screen. It was the evening of New Year's Day, nine o'clock.

The principal of an elementary school personally messaging me during the holidays to reject my daughter's admission.

There's no such thing as coincidence in this world.

My mind flashed with the smug faces of Uncle Michael and Aunt Brenda, and Ivy's shouting.

So, this was their plan.

To use what I cared about most to force me to humble myself.

I gave a cold laugh. They had definitely messed with the wrong person.

To avoid misdirected retaliation, I politely replied to Principal Davies, "May I ask, specifically, what aspect of Lily's application wasn't approved?"

He quickly replied, "Lily's Mom, our elite elementary school values not only a child's inherent qualities but also places great importance on evaluating the family environment."

"After our background check on your family elders, we found that there might be some disharmony and lack of filial piety within your family. Therefore, overall, it's deemed not very suitable."

Reading those lines, I almost laughed in anger.

It was them, all right, using the excuse of family disharmony.

So, "disharmony and lack of filial piety" meant that Lily and I didn't perform monkey tricks for a bunch of old geezers on New Year's Day, like Ivy did?

Were we supposed to be obedient, act like clowns, and maybe even bow down to them?

I took a deep breath and immediately called Ethan.

I recounted everything that happened tonight, word for word.

On the other end of the line, Ethan's breathing noticeably deepened. "They're using Lily's admission to threaten you?"

His voice dropped, but his tone was resolute. "Honey, you don't have to worry about this. I'll handle Lily's admission."

"Elite elementary school, right? Perfect. Our group has a major cooperation project with the city council recently. First thing tomorrow morning, I'll have my assistant contact the director.

"I want to see who dares to block my daughter, Lily's, admission review when all her paperwork is in order."

My heart settled quite a bit, but I still cautioned, "Don't be too impulsive. We have the moral high ground, so just follow proper procedures."

"Don't worry, your husband here is the most reasonable man. But if someone isn't reasonable, then I'll make sure they know what they're up against."

After hanging up, I felt much more at ease.

But then, group messages started popping up again.

I opened the "Happy Family" SnapChat group, and it was already in an uproar.

Ivy was wailing and crying, sending many photos of her torn clothes and scarf.

"I know Sarah doesn't like me, but during the holidays, to lay hands on me in front of a child, how can I bear it..."

She was acting so sincerely, crying real tears.

Uncle Michael directly tagged me, cursing me for having no upbringing.

Aunt Brenda also complained tearfully, demanding I apologize.

I looked at the family of drama queens, at their familiar tactics and accusations.

I typed out a reply and sent it, "She was clinging to my car window and wouldn't let go, she ripped her own clothes. What does that have to do with me?"

After my reply, the accusations in the group became even more intense.

They even started to escalate, cursing my deceased parents for not raising me properly.

I clenched my fists, then sent one last reply, "Is your 'upbringing' conspiring with outsiders to use a child's school admission to force a junior to bow down? Fine, then I'll find some 'outsiders' to judge fairly as well."

After sending it, without waiting for their reactions, I directly left the group.

Once the world was quiet again, I immediately opened my phone's photo album and found all those videos accumulated over the years.

They were videos of Ivy, over the years, wearing ridiculous floral jackets and various weird costumes, wiggling her butt and making the elders clap and laugh.

And also the chat logs from the family group just now.

I bundled them all up and sent them to the most popular local news expos account.

With the caption, "Feudal elders force junior to act like a fool every year for 'filial piety,' threatening a child's future if they don't comply."

"Videos and chat logs as proof, asking for exposure."

I tapped my finger, and it was sent successfully.

The next day, the second day of the holidays.

Lily and I woke up naturally, watched TV together, and did crafts.

With no fake relatives and no drama, the house was filled with joyous laughter.

Around noon, my phone started vibrating like crazy.

Notifications from various social media apps rang like mad.

I tapped on the notifications and saw a trending topic at the top of Ins's local feed:

"Thirty-Year-Old Daughter Forced to Act Like Monkey for Elders' Filial Piety"

I clicked on it, and the pinned post was the full video and long screenshot of the chat logs from the news expos account.

In the video, Ivy, wearing that ridiculous floral cotton jacket and monkey costume, twisted and contorted amidst the elders' laughter.

Scene after scene, like loud slaps, landed squarely on Ivy and those old folks' faces.

The comment section was even wilder:

"It's 2026, and we still have these feudal relics? Seriously laughable. How empty must a house full of old people be to need to humiliate juniors for validation?"

"Sucking the life out of juniors, trampling on their dignityis that what these people want?"

"That woman is also a minion. She's been kneeling for so long, now she wants to drag others down too, disgusting!"

"Am I the only one who noticed the six-year-old girl? If her mom wasn't tough, she would have been the next one forced to wear the monkey costume!"

As the trending topic's popularity exploded, insiders also started to come forward with information.

"This family's surname is Davies, locally known as a supposedly refined and educated background. But their ancestral home was strictly passed down only to male heirs. The daughter in the video probably wants to fight for the family property so badly it's driven her crazy."

The netizens went even wilder.

"Monkey family," "patriarchal," and other keywords were repeatedly mentioned, spreading like a virus.

The family's good name, which they had boasted about for decades in the local area, was completely ruined within a few hours.

My phone started being bombarded by unknown numbers.

I randomly answered one, and it was Ivy's hysterical wailing.

"Sarah! Are you crazy?! My reputation is utterly ruined because of you, take the video down right now! Hurry!"

"Now all the netizens are calling me a joke, saying such awful things, it's all your fault! All your fault!"

I listened to her screaming calmly.

Only when she was tired of cursing did I speak, calmly. "Ivy, you wore the outlandish costumes yourself, you agreed to let them film the video yourself, and you willingly performed. What does that have to do with me?"

She immediately acted as if she'd been wronged, crying even harder. "But I was forced! You think I wanted to?!"

"So, you came to force my daughter?"

Without waiting for her to wail again, I hung up.

Looking at the torrent of abusive messages flooding my appsthings like calling me an unfilial descendant, saying I'd ruined the family.

Some even threatened that my daughter and I would die horrible deaths.

My heart remained unmoved. I sent one unified reply, "When you put that monkey costume on my daughter, you should have known this day would come. If you touch my daughter again, I'll show you what hell on earth truly means."

Then, I blocked every number and account I could.

The world was quiet once more.

Over the next two days, Lily and I waited for Ethan to come home, enjoying the most peaceful New Year we'd ever had.

However, early on the morning of the fourth day of the holidays, Lily and I were woken by a rough banging and smashing sound.

I comforted Lily, then peered through the peephole.

Uncle Michael and Ivy stood outside, looking furious and menacing. "Sarah, you get your ass out here! You've gone too far, you have to take that video down today! Otherwise, I'll smash this damn door down!"

Behind him was a dark mass of relatives.

"Sarah! You ungrateful wretch! How can you still hide like a coward after airing such dirty laundry?"

Ivy also cried out, "Cousin, how could you ruin me! Are you satisfied now that you've ruined the whole family?!"

Then she theatrically slumped to the ground. "You take the video down right now, or I'll die right here at your door!"

I watched her exaggerated performance, and the last shred of pity in my heart dissolved.

She had been completely assimilated by the elders, willingly becoming part of this rotten system, even trying to drag my daughter into it.

But since this was her choice, she shouldn't blame me for showing no mercy when I dealt with her.