We're Done - My Second Brother's Downfall

Chapter 10: My Second Brother's Downfall

The day the judgment was issued, Chen Hui didn't come.

The court ordered him to repay the 200,000-yuan loan plus interest, and ordered Chen Qiang to return the 370,000 yuan I had paid toward the house.

Two judgments.

Black ink on white paper.

They were given fifteen days to comply.

When the judge struck the gavel, only my mother and father were sitting in the gallery.

My mother was crying so hard that she collapsed against the back of the front-row chair.

My father leaned on his crutch, his face ashen with anger, and didn't say a word.

Chen Qiang sat in the defendant's seat and never looked at me once.

The judge asked whether he intended to appeal.

Trembling, he said, “No appeal.”

His wife cursed under her breath in the gallery and was escorted out by a court officer.

Chen Hui didn't come.

His lawyer appeared on his behalf, expressionless throughout the entire hearing.

When the judge asked whether he would appeal, the lawyer said,

“The defendant reserves the right to appeal.”

Li Zheng came back and told me that Chen Hui's company accounts had already been frozen.

The tax investigation had officially begun.

Mr. Zhao had submitted more than eighty pages of evidence.

Li Zheng said that was more than enough to give him serious trouble.

On the third day after the judgment, Mr. Zhao called me.

“Chen Mo, your second brother has run.”

“Run?”

“The company is closed.”

“The employees haven't been paid.”

“He still owes suppliers money.”

“And nobody can find him.”

“I heard he went to the provincial capital, trying to find someone to get him out.”

“It's useless.”

“The evidence for tax evasion is too solid. Nobody can get him out.”

After hanging up, I slipped my phone into my pocket and stood outside the workers' shed for a while.

Old Zhou was cooking inside.

Oil crackled loudly in the pan.

I pushed open the door.

He turned and looked at me.

“Chen Hui ran.”

Old Zhou scooped the food out of the pan and divided it between two plates.

“Expected.”

“Mr. Zhao said the tax authorities have enough evidence.”

“Enough to get him convicted.”

“That's his problem.”

Old Zhou handed me the chopsticks.

“You just focus on getting your money back.”

On the fifteenth day after the judgment, Chen Hui still hadn't repaid the money.

The court initiated compulsory enforcement.

They seized the BMW registered under his name, his new house in the county town, and the little over 100,000 yuan remaining in his company account.

It was the same with Chen Qiang.

The house entered foreclosure proceedings.

My mother called me more than ten times a day.

At first, she cursed.

She called me an ungrateful bastard.

She said I had destroyed the entire family.

Later, it turned into crying.

She cried and begged me to withdraw the lawsuit.

She said my eldest brother's child had nowhere to live.

She said my second brother was hiding outside and didn't dare come home.

Then she changed tactics and had other people call me.

My eldest brother called.

My sister-in-law called.

My second sister-in-law called too.

I blocked one number after another, and another number would immediately replace it.

I set my phone to block all unknown numbers.

The world became quiet.

Chen Hui showed up on the twenty-third day.

That night, Old Zhou and I were eating in the workers' shed when someone knocked on the door.

Old Zhou went to open it.

The moment the door opened, Chen Hui was standing outside.

He was wearing that same black cashmere coat.

But it was wrinkled now.

The collar was crooked.

There were grease stains on the cuffs.

His hair was a mess.

He hadn't shaved.

His eye sockets were sunken.

There was a smell coming from him—smoke, alcohol, and a sour odor I couldn't quite identify, like he hadn't showered in a long time.

When he saw me, he suddenly dropped to his knees.

“Little Brother, I was wrong.”

He knelt on the concrete floor of the workers' shed.

His knees hit the ground with a dull thud.

Old Zhou stood in the doorway without moving.

He didn't let Chen Hui inside either.

“Little Brother, help me.”

“The tax authorities are going to arrest me. I can't go to prison.”

“Your nephew is still young.”

“Your second sister-in-law wants a divorce.”

“I've lost everything.”

“Help me this once.”

“Talk to Mr. Zhao and get him to withdraw the evidence.”

“Help me just this once, and from now on, I'll do whatever you say.”

He knelt on the ground and looked up at me, his face covered in tears.

That once-pristine cashmere coat hung around him, covered in dust.

I sat at the folding table with a bowl of rice in my hands and looked at him.

I had seen him like this once before.

Five years ago, on the day he borrowed money from me, he had looked at me the exact same way.

His face full of sincerity.

His mouth full of promises.

“Little Brother, don't worry. Count it as a loan. I'll pay you back double.”

Back then, he had knelt on a pile of sand at the construction site.

His shoes were covered in mud.

He had held my hand tightly.

Now he was kneeling again.

The same posture.

The same face.

The same tone of voice.

“Second Brother.”

I put down my bowl.

“Do you remember what you said five years ago when you borrowed the money?”

His crying stopped for a second.

“You said, ‘Count it as a loan. I'll pay you back double.’”

“You said, ‘Once I make it big, you'll be the first person I repay.’”

“You said, ‘Even brothers should keep clear accounts.’”

I stood up and walked over to him.

Then I crouched down so we were face-to-face.

His eyes were red like a rabbit's.

Tears and mucus covered his face.

He reached out to grab my arm.

I shifted backward.

“Brother, you taught me this.”

“Even brothers should keep clear accounts.”

“When you refused to acknowledge the debt back then, you said, ‘Do you have an IOU?’”

“I didn't have one.”

“But I had a recording.”

“Back then, when you said that 200,000 yuan was money I'd given to the family, I accepted what you said.”

“Now the court has ruled.”

“And you're still refusing to acknowledge it.”

“Brother, tell me.”

“Which of the things you said was ever true?”

He opened his mouth.

No words came out.

“The day you drove me out, the rain was heavy.”

“You threw my blood-pressure medicine into the water.”

“You threw my knee supports into the mud.”

“You threw my cotton shoes into the rain.”

“You told me to get out.”

“You said that in this family, there was you, but not me.”

“Brother, I left today.”

“And now you're asking me to come back.”

“Tell me.”

“Which of your words am I supposed to listen to?”

He knelt on the ground, his shoulders shaking.

He cried.

Loudly.

Desperately.

In the past, whenever he cried, my heart would soften.

When we were children and he failed an exam and our father hit him, he cried, and I begged Dad to stop.

Later, when his business failed, he cried, and I sent him money.

Now he was crying again.

There wasn't the slightest ripple in my heart.

“Brother, the 200,000 yuan, plus interest, has been awarded by the court.”

“When are you going to repay it?”

He suddenly raised his head, his face filled with disbelief.

“Chen Mo!”

“I'm already like this, and you're still asking me for money?”

“The court ordered it.”

“I'm your second brother!”

“You taught me.”

“Even brothers should keep clear accounts.”

He stood up.

He had knelt for too long.

His knees wouldn't straighten properly, and he staggered twice.

The look in his eyes changed.

From pleading to resentment.

From resentment to something twisted and vicious.

“Chen Mo, don't push me.”

“I'm not pushing you.”

“The court has ruled.”

“Just comply with the judgment.”

“I have nothing left!”

“No house.”

“No car.”

“No company.”

“What more do you want from me?”

“Pay back my 200,000 yuan.”

I looked at him.

“And Old Zhou's 100,000.”

“That 100,000 was money I borrowed from him and gave to you to start your business.”

“His son is getting married.”

“He's been waiting five years for that money.”

Chen Hui stared at me, his chest heaving.

Suddenly, he laughed.

That laugh sounded worse than crying.

“Fine.”

“Very good.”

“Chen Mo, just wait.”

He turned and walked outside.

When he reached the door, Old Zhou blocked him.

Old Zhou was half a head shorter than Chen Hui, but his shoulders were broad.

Standing in the doorway, he looked like a wall.

“Chen Hui.”

Chen Hui stopped.

“Where were you when your brother broke his leg?”

Chen Hui said nothing.

“While your brother was lying in the hospital, your mother called and asked him for money to help your company.”

“Your brother transferred his last 30,000 yuan to you.”

“Do you remember?”

Chen Hui's shoulders shrank slightly.

“That 30,000, together with the 200,000 from before, makes 230,000.”

“When are you going to repay it?”

“Brother Zhou…”

“Don't call me Brother Zhou.”

“I don't know you.”

Old Zhou opened the door.

“Get out.”

Chen Hui left.

His back disappeared into the darkness outside the workers' shed.

His coat fluttered twice in the wind, like a deflated balloon.

I stood at the doorway, watching him walk away until his shadow completely disappeared beneath the streetlight.

Old Zhou patted me on the shoulder.

“Eat.”

I returned to the table and picked up the bowl of noodles that had already gone cold.

I took a bite.

It was salty.

I didn't know whether the food was too salty or whether my mouth was salty.

The next day, Mr. Zhao called again.

“Chen Mo, Chen Hui turned himself in.”

“When?”

“Last night.”

“He went to the tax bureau and confessed.”

“He admitted all the tax evasion.”

“I heard he went to everyone he could think of looking for help.”

“Nobody helped him.”

“Your second sister-in-law took the child back to her parents' home.”

“Your eldest brother can't even save himself.”

“And your mother…”

“Your mother knelt outside Mr. Zhao's home all night begging him.”

“He never opened the door.”

I held the phone and said nothing.

“Chen Mo, have you gone soft?”

“No.”

“Good.”

“Someone like him isn't worth it.”

I hung up.

I stood outside the workers' shed.

Dawn had come.

Far away, the tower cranes at the construction site began to turn.

The sun rose between the gaps in the buildings and shone onto my face.

It was warm.

I touched my pocket.

The adoption certificate was still there.

A thin sheet of paper.

The folds were almost torn through.

But the words were still there.

“Hard fate. Brings misfortune upon his father.”

I folded the paper carefully and put it back in my pocket.

Then I turned and went into the workers' shed.

I reheated the leftover food from last night and cooked two bowls of noodles.

Old Zhou woke up when he smelled the food.

He rubbed his eyes and sat down at the table.

“Chen Hui turned himself in.”

“Mm.”

“You're not happy?”

“There's nothing to be happy or unhappy about.”

I pushed his bowl toward him.

“He turned himself in.”

“That's his own problem.”

Old Zhou lowered his head and ate.

Halfway through the meal, he raised his head.

“Mo.”

“Hmm?”

“You've changed.”

“For better or worse?”

Old Zhou thought about it.

“You've become tougher.”

I finished every last strand of noodles in my bowl and put down my chopsticks.

“Brother Zhou, being tough is good.”

“I've been soft for ten years.”

“Anyone could step on me.”

Outside the window, the tower crane turned another corner, carrying a bundle of steel bars slowly upward.

The sunlight struck them, bright enough to hurt the eyes.

ns216.73.216.62da2

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