I realized something was terribly wrong.
Desperate, I threatened to end my life if my mother didn’t tell me the truth. She looked at me coldly and said,
"Julia wants to go abroad, so you should give it to her."
"Your grandfather’s last wish before he died was for me to take good care of your aunt. You know that better than anyone."
"Your aunt has had a hard life. Julia is better than you—why are you so jealous?"
I cried, I begged, I went on a hunger strike, but all I got in return was ridicule colder than winter.
That bank card held every scholarship and paycheck I had saved since high school—250,000 yuan. That was my tuition, my dream, my future.
Yet my mother only scoffed.
"What are you starving for? Your sister is the one who’s nearly starving!"
She stood at the kitchen door, her voice full of impatience.
"Bring out whatever you’ve cooked and let your sister eat first. She’s delicate—she can’t stand being hungry!"
She looked at Julia with nothing but distress.
Sixteen dishes were spread across the table. By the time I finished preparing the last one and placed it down, only scraps remained—some garlic, chili, and watery vegetable soup.
I picked through the leftovers, searching for anything edible.
"Forget it," I told myself.
It had always been like this—before marriage and after.
After eating their fill, my mother reached out and touched Julia’s slightly bulging belly, her eyes full of adoration.
"Oh, Julia, I have a feeling this baby is a boy. Not bad, not bad—much better than your sister."
Julia blushed and tilted her chin slightly, her voice dripping with false humility.
"Aunt, don’t say that. Boys and girls are the same, as long as my husband likes them."
Her husband, the well-dressed and ever-smug son-in-law, chuckled, patting Julia’s hand. "Boys are good, boys are good..."
From the other side of the room, laughter erupted as Nate scrolled through his phone. I turned to look at him.
I had been an outstanding student all my life—top of my class, disciplined, determined. And yet, I ended up married to this town’s infamous good-for-nothing, a man who never even finished junior high.
That year, I should never have married him.
When my dream of studying abroad was crushed, I didn’t give up. I set my sights on becoming a civil servant.
But when the political background check was announced, someone maliciously reported me.
Rumors spread like wildfire. My mother dragged me to my grandfather’s grave, forcing me to kneel.
"Swear!" she demanded. "Swear that you will never take the postgraduate exam, never take the civil service exam, and never bring shame upon me again!"
Later, I secretly moved into a rented apartment to prepare for my postgraduate entrance exam. When my mother found out, she burned all my study materials, nearly setting my room on fire.
Then, my four-year relationship ended.
His parents disapproved of me. My aunt wasted no time, scheming behind my back.
"I've had someone calculate your daughter’s fate," she told my mother. "She’s destined for hardship. Her path is to marry and fulfill her duty as a wife. That’s the only way."
And my mother believed her.
They took my dowry deposit while I was away.
That night, my mother did something she had never done before—she cooked an elaborate meal and shared a few drinks with me, her voice unusually gentle.
"As long as you listen to me, I’ll find you a good husband," she promised.
Naively, I thought she had finally freed herself from my aunt’s control.
I didn’t know then that I was nothing more than bait.
That night, a man entered my room.
That man later became Nate.
—
A sudden commotion jolted me back to the present.
"Oh, baby—"
My daughter was at my aunt’s feet, coughing violently, her tiny face flushed red.
"It’s just a little mustard. Girls can’t be this weak. She’s too delicate!" my aunt scoffed.
I rushed forward, scooping my daughter into my arms. She sobbed, struggling to breathe. I frantically searched for water—there was nothing but wine on the table.
"Aunt! How can a one-year-old eat mustard? She’s just a baby! Do you have any conscience at all?"
My mother’s hand struck my face before I could react.
"Pa—!"
The stinging slap rang through the room.
Her voice was sharp, unforgiving. "You are getting out of control! How dare you speak like that?"
Tears welled in my eyes as I held my daughter close.
"She’s only one! What if she choked?" My voice trembled with rage. "How can you be so heartless?"
