We're Done - My Eldest Brother's House Goes to Auction

Chapter 11: My Eldest Brother's House Goes to Auction

On the day of the auction, I went to the scene.

The house was in the old part of the county town.

Sixth floor.

No elevator.

Two bedrooms and one living room.

The court's auction notice was posted beside the entrance to the building.

White paper.

Black words.

A red official seal.

The starting price was 420,000 yuan.

The appraised value was 580,000 yuan.

A crowd had gathered beneath the notice, most of them simply there to watch.

I stood outside the crowd, my right leg resting against the wall, staring at the notice.

It clearly stated:

“Enforced Party: Chen Qiang.”

Three words.

Crystal clear.

This was the house I had bought.

I had paid the 370,000-yuan down payment.

I had paid for it.

The monthly mortgage payments were made using my eldest brother's housing provident fund, but the property fees, utilities, and the renovation costs were all money I had transferred to him.

When the house was being renovated, I was still working on the construction site.

He called and said they were short 50,000 yuan.

I transferred it the very next day.

He said, “Little Brother, once the renovation is finished, I'll leave the larger room for you.”

I said, “No need. As long as there's somewhere to live, it's fine.”

That room they had supposedly saved for me—

I never spent a single night in it.

The auction began at nine.

At eight-thirty, I saw my eldest brother, Chen Qiang, arrive.

He was wearing an old jacket.

His hair was messy.

His beard was unshaven.

His eyes were swollen.

His wife followed behind him, holding their child's hand.

The three of them stood at the entrance to the building, staring at the court's seal on the door without moving.

The child asked, “Dad, can't we go home anymore?”

Chen Qiang crouched down and pulled the child into his arms.

He didn't say anything.

My mother came too.

She walked right past me without noticing me.

She had aged a great deal.

A large portion of her hair had turned white.

Her back was badly hunched.

When she walked, both of her legs angled inward.

She went to Chen Qiang, took the child from him, and gently said,

“It's okay, it's okay. Grandma's here.”

My father didn't come.

I heard his blood pressure had gotten so high that he was hospitalized.

At nine, the judge and court officers arrived.

They tore off the seal, changed the lock, and began taking inventory of the property.

Chen Qiang's family was allowed inside to collect their personal belongings.

They had half an hour.

I waited downstairs.

From upstairs, I could hear his wife's crying and the child's voice shouting,

“My toys!”

My mother stood in the stairwell, holding the child in her arms.

Tears rolled down her face one after another.

More and more people gathered to watch.

Some pointed and whispered.

Some said, “This family didn't pay their debts.”

Some said, “Serves them right.”

Others said, “Poor child.”

I listened.

I said nothing.

Half an hour later, Chen Qiang came downstairs carrying two woven sacks.

His wife carried a cardboard box stuffed with the child's clothes and daily necessities.

The child was crying so hard that their voice had gone hoarse.

My mother came last, carrying a plastic bag filled with pots, bowls, and kitchen utensils.

Chen Qiang stood at the entrance of the building and looked up at the house that had once belonged to him.

Sixth floor.

The windows were open.

The lights inside were off.

He stared for a while.

Then he turned around.

And saw me.

He froze.

The woven sack slipped from his hand and fell to the ground.

“Chen Mo.”

I looked at him.

“Are you satisfied now?”

I didn't answer.

His wife saw me too.

She rushed over and pointed at my face, screaming,

“You ungrateful bastard!”

“You took your brother's house away!”

“You'll get what you deserve!”

A court officer stopped her.

She struggled and continued shouting until her voice cracked.

Chen Qiang grabbed her and pulled her back.

His face changed from pale to red.

From red to gray.

And finally into an expression of despair I had never seen before.

“Chen Mo.”

His voice was hoarse.

“I lived in that house for six years.”

“My child was born there.”

“My parents were supposed to grow old there.”

“With one sentence from you, it's all gone.”

“Big Brother.”

I spoke.

“I paid 370,000 yuan for that house.”

“For six years, I've still been living in a workers' shed.”

He opened his mouth but couldn't say anything.

“Your child was born there. I was happy for you.”

“Mom and Dad lived there. I accepted that.”

“But do you remember what you said to me on the day we bought it?”

“You said, ‘Little Brother, Mom and Dad will use the master bedroom, and you'll use the second bedroom.’”

“When did you ever let me live there?”

“When you changed the locks, did you ever think of me?”

“When you made me sleep on the sofa, did you ever think of me?”

“When your wife pointed at my face and called me an ungrateful bastard, did you say a single word?”

Chen Qiang lowered his head and looked at the woven sack on the ground.

Half the clothes had spilled out.

The child's stuffed toy had rolled to the roadside and was covered in mud.

“Chen Mo…”

He raised his head.

His eyes were red.

“I'm sorry.”

I looked at him.

He had said those words.

For the first time.

Before this, it had always been Chen Hui doing the talking while he hid behind him and said nothing.

He had always acted like the honest, harmless one.

The kind of person who never offended anyone.

But he had lived in my house.

Driven a car bought with my money.

When his wife insulted me, he never stopped her.

He wouldn't let me touch his child.

Through his silence, he had chosen a side.

He had stood with them.

Opposite me.

“Big Brother.”

“‘I'm sorry’ isn't worth 370,000 yuan.”

His tears fell.

His wife stopped cursing.

She crouched on the ground, holding their child and crying.

My mother came over and took the child from her, patting them gently.

Her eyes were full of tears as she looked at me.

Her lips moved, but no words came out.

The auction began.

Dozens of people raised their bidding signs.

420,000 yuan.

450,000.

480,000.

Finally—

510,000 yuan.

The gavel fell.

The buyer was a man in his forties.

He wore a jacket and carried a document bag.

Without any expression, he signed the paperwork.

Chen Qiang stood beside him, watching.

His fingers were tightly wrapped around the strap of the woven sack.

His knuckles had turned white.

The court settled the payment.

After the bank mortgage was deducted, the remaining amount was transferred to my account.

370,000 yuan, plus interest, plus litigation fees, plus legal fees.

A total of 413,000 yuan.

When the deposit notification arrived, I was standing outside a small convenience store by the roadside.

I looked at the message.

Then slipped my phone back into my pocket.

Chen Qiang's family left.

They carried their woven sacks and cardboard boxes as they walked out of the alley.

My mother carried the child behind them.

My father was still in the hospital, waiting for her to bring him food.

When Chen Qiang reached the entrance to the alley, he looked back at the building.

Sixth floor.

The windows were closed.

The lights were off.

He stood there for a few seconds.

Then he turned around and left.

The crowd dispersed.

The alley became empty.

I stood at the auction site, staring at the brand-new lock and the court's seal on the entrance.

The sunlight reflected off them, so bright it hurt my eyes.

So this was the ending.

The house was gone.

The money had come back.

I had gotten what was mine.

But I didn't feel happy.

I took out my phone and found the family photograph.

Five people.

I was standing on the far right, wearing old clothes, smiling stiffly.

That photo had been stored on my phone for ten years.

It had been transferred from my first phone to the one I had now.

I looked at it for a long time.

Then I deleted it.

“Brother Zhou.”

I called him.

“Judgment came down?”

“Mm.”

“The house was auctioned?”

“510,000 yuan.”

“Did the money arrive?”

“It did.”

“413,000.”

“Good. I'm waiting for you at the workers' shed.”

“Brother Zhou.”

“Hmm?”

“I want to buy a house.”

There was silence on the other end for a few seconds.

“Then buy one.”

“It's your own money.”

“Buy wherever you want.”

“Put my own name on it.”

“Of course. Put your own name on it.”

I hung up.

I stood at the entrance of the alley, watching people come and go.

Some were carrying groceries home.

Some were picking up their children from school.

Some were hurrying off to work.

They all had homes of their own.

Soon, I would have one too.

My own house.

My own name.

I wouldn't have to sleep on a sofa anymore.

I wouldn't have to sleep in a workers' shed.

I wouldn't have to ask anyone for permission.

I took out the adoption certificate and looked at it once.

Then I put it back in my pocket.

I turned around and walked out of the alley.

My right leg still had a slight limp.

But I walked much more steadily than I had six years ago.

Behind me, the court's seal fluttered slightly in the wind, making a faint sound.

I didn't look back.

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