We're Done - Returning Home with a Workplace Injury

Chapter 5: Returning Home with a Workplace Injury

The day I dragged my broken leg home, nobody came to pick me up.

Old Zhou drove me to the entrance of the village, but his van couldn't make it into the narrow alleyways.

I leaned on my crutches, carrying a woven polypropylene sack over my shoulder, and slowly made my way inside, one step at a time.

My right leg was in a cast from my knee to my ankle, a hard, rigid length that made every step feel like I was walking on nails.

The neighbors in the alley saw me. Some nodded. Others pretended not to notice.

By the time I reached the front door, I was soaked from head to toe. I couldn't tell whether it was sweat or whether it had started raining again.

My mother was sitting at the doorway, sorting vegetables.

When she saw me, her hands stopped for a moment, then she continued sorting.

“Back already?”

“Mm.”

“How's your leg?”

“I can walk.”

She didn't ask anything else.

I leaned on my crutches and passed by her into the house.

My father was watching television in the living room. When he saw me, he lowered the volume and said, “You're back,” before continuing to watch.

My eldest brother, Chen Qiang, wasn't there.

Neither was my second brother, Chen Hui.

I asked my mother, “Where are Big Brother and Second Brother?”

“Your eldest brother is at work. Your second brother is at the company.”

“Oh.”

I supported myself against the wall and headed toward the second bedroom.

The door was locked.

I pushed it, but it wouldn't open.

My mother said from behind me, “Your eldest brother's child is staying in there. You sleep in the living room.”

I turned around and looked at her.

She stood at the kitchen entrance, still clutching the unfinished bunch of vegetables in her hand. Her eyes shifted away for a moment, then quickly returned to normal.

I lowered my head and looked at my leg in its cast.

Then I looked at the one-and-a-half-meter-long sofa in the living room.

“Mom, with my leg like this, sleeping on the sofa…”

“Your eldest brother's child is still young. Someone needs to watch over them. Make do for a few days. We'll figure it out after your leg heals.”

Make do.

I'd been making do for ten years.

I said nothing.

I placed the woven sack beside the sofa and sat down with my crutches.

The sofa was too short.

At 178 centimeters tall, I couldn't straighten my leg. The cast pressed against the armrest, making me wince in pain.

My father changed the channel.

Some variety show was playing on television, and waves of laughter filled the room.

That evening, my mother cooked braised ribs.

I hadn't eaten a home-cooked meal in a long time.

When we sat down at the table, my eldest brother, Chen Qiang, came back with his wife and child.

My second brother, Chen Hui, came too.

He drove that BMW and honked twice before parking at the entrance of the alley.

The whole family gathered around the table.

I sat at the farthest edge, with my injured leg sticking out beyond the table.

Chen Hui sat at the head of the table.

My mother served him food.

My father handed him cigarettes.

My eldest brother poured him wine.

The bowl in front of me was empty.

No one had even brought me chopsticks.

“Second Brother,” I said.

“Hmm?”

He picked up a rib without looking at me.

“That 200,000 yuan. Could you pay me back 50,000 first? I injured my leg, and I need to repay the money I borrowed from my coworkers.”

His chopsticks stopped in midair.

The dinner table fell silent for a second.

“What 200,000 yuan?”

Chen Hui put the rib into his mouth and chewed twice.

“Wasn't that money for the family?”

“That was a loan. You said you'd pay me back double.”

“Chen Mo.”

He put down his chopsticks and wiped his mouth with a tissue.

“You're keeping accounts with me now? You've eaten the family's food and drunk the family's water for all these years. What's wrong with spending some money on the family?”

“Besides, you say all this now, but do you have an IOU?”

An IOU.

Again, an IOU.

“I have a recording,” I said.

The dinner table went completely silent.

My mother's hand froze while serving the food.

Ash from my father's cigarette fell onto the table.

My eldest brother lowered his head and continued eating.

Chen Hui stared at me.

The indifference in his eyes turned into something vicious.

“You recorded me?”

He stood up.

The chair scraped backward, its metal legs screeching against the floor tiles.

“Chen Mo, when did you start guarding against me?”

“Second Brother, I just want my money back.”

“Your money?”

He laughed and walked toward me, looking down at me from above.

He was wearing that black cashmere coat, carrying the scent of cologne. His hair was combed perfectly into place.

He raised one finger and poked me in the shoulder again and again.

“When you were fourteen and went out to work, who found you a way in?”

“Old Zhou.”

“And who introduced you to Old Zhou?”

“Me! I did!”

“And now you're keeping accounts with me?”

“That was because I went to find Old Zhou myself—”

“Shut up!”

He shouted.

My mother flinched in fright.

“You were just a middle-school student, with no education and no ability. If I hadn't told you to go work at the construction site back then, would you have what you have today?”

“Now you have food to eat and a place to live. You should be thanking me!”

“And you're still asking me for money?”

“What the hell are you?”

“Second Brother—”

“Don't call me Second Brother!”

“I don't have a heartless little brother like you!”

My father finally spoke.

“Huizi, talk properly…”

“Dad, stay out of this!”

Chen Hui pointed at me.

“He dares to ask me about money today. Tomorrow he'll be asking you for the house! Don't you believe it?”

“Someone like him can never be satisfied!”

Can never be satisfied.

Those three words crashed into my head like a heavy blow.

I looked at my mother.

She lowered her head, twisting her apron in her hands.

I looked at my father.

He turned his face away and took a sip from his wine glass.

I looked at my eldest brother, Chen Qiang.

He finally raised his head and looked at me.

“Mo, your second brother has it hard too. Just let the money go.”

“Big Brother, what about the house…”

“What about the house?”

Chen Hui suddenly turned toward me.

“You want the house too?”

“The house is in Big Brother's name. What does it have to do with you?”

“I paid 370,000 yuan.”

“Do you have any evidence?”

I opened my mouth.

Then closed it.

I did.

I had the bank transfer records.

The remarks.

The screenshots.

But I didn't say any of it.

Because I saw my mother shaking her head.

She looked at me, her lips moving silently.

She was saying—

“Don't say it.”

She was begging me.

She was begging me to swallow this bitterness.

I looked at her.

I looked at her graying hair, her reddened eyes, and her hands twisting the apron.

For this woman, I had quit school.

For this woman, I had carried bricks for ten years.

For this woman, I had sent money home for ten years.

And now she was asking me not to say anything.

“Chen Mo.”

Chen Hui walked to the door and pulled open the apartment door. Cold wind rushed inside.

It was still raining outside.

“Listen carefully. In this family, there is me, and there is no you.”

“If you know what's good for you, get out now.”

“If you don't…”

He picked up my woven sack.

He pulled out the blood-pressure medicine, knee supports, and cotton shoes I'd bought for my parents.

One by one, he threw them outside.

The rain quickly soaked everything.

The box containing the blood-pressure medicine sat in the water, the writing on it becoming blurred.

“Get out.”

I stood up.

The cast on my right leg struck the corner of the coffee table.

Pain flashed white across my vision.

I leaned against the wall and moved toward the door one step at a time.

My mother finally spoke.

“Mo…”

I stopped.

I turned around to look at her.

“Where are you going?”

I looked at her.

There were tears on her face, but she didn't move her feet.

She sat in her chair, clutching her apron, her back bent as though someone had pulled the bones from her body.

“Mom,” I said. “I'm only going to ask you one thing.”

“Am I really your biological son?”

Her face instantly went pale.

White as paper.

Her mouth opened, then closed, then opened again.

My father suddenly stood up.

His crutch fell to the floor.

My eldest brother, Chen Qiang, dropped his chopsticks onto the table.

Chen Hui stood at the doorway, the vicious expression on his face frozen in place.

“What… what did you say?”

My mother's voice trembled uncontrollably.

“Am I really your biological son?”

“Of course you are—”

“Then why?”

I interrupted her.

“Why is the house in Big Brother's name?”

“Why won't Second Brother repay the money?”

“Why did nobody care when my leg was broken?”

“Why has there never been a place for me in this family?”

My mother covered her mouth.

Tears fell onto the table one after another.

She didn't speak.

She couldn't.

“Say it!”

“You…”

She finally spoke.

Her voice seeped out between her fingers, muffled and broken.

“You're not… You weren't born to me…”

The air froze.

My father's crutch lay on the floor.

He didn't pick it up.

My eldest brother, Chen Qiang, stood up as if he wanted to say something, then sat back down.

Chen Hui remained at the doorway.

The expression on his face changed from viciousness to shock, then into a strange calm.

It was as if he had known all along.

“You were adopted.”

My mother finally lowered her hand, her face covered in tears.

“Your biological parents didn't want you, so we brought you home.”

“We raised you for fourteen years. You dropped out of school and went to work. I thought you were repaying the favor.”

“But you…”

“Why did you keep accounts?”

“Why did you record our conversations?”

“Don't you think you owe us anything?”

Owe you?

I stood at the doorway.

Rain blew in from outside and struck my back.

Water seeped into the cast on my right leg, making it heavy and cold.

I lowered my head and looked at the blood-pressure medicine, knee supports, and cotton shoes scattered across the ground.

I had bought every one of them with the money I'd earned through blood and sweat at construction sites.

I had chosen every item myself.

“So.”

My voice was calm.

So calm that even I was surprised.

“Every cent I spent on you was something I was supposed to do.”

“Because you raised me for fourteen years.”

“Then what about after I turned fourteen?”

“The money I sent home?”

“The house I bought?”

“The 200,000 yuan I lent out?”

“Was that all repayment too?”

“How much longer am I supposed to repay you?”

“For the rest of my life?”

Nobody answered.

My mother was crying.

My father lowered his head.

My eldest brother said nothing.

My second brother stood at the doorway, staring coldly at me as though I were a stranger.

I bent down and picked up the blood-pressure medicine, knee supports, and cotton shoes one by one.

The medicine box was soaked through.

The knee supports were covered in mud.

The cotton shoes were misshapen from the rain.

I gathered them into my arms, turned around, and walked out the door.

“Chen Mo.”

Chen Hui's voice came from behind me.

“Once you leave, don't come back.”

I didn't turn around.

The rain was heavy.

The streetlights in the alley flickered on and off.

The drains were clogged, and the water had risen above my ankles.

I hugged those things to my chest and limped forward with my crutches, one step at a time.

Water seeped into my cast.

My right leg hurt until it went completely numb.

Cold wind poured into me from every direction, but I couldn't feel the cold.

There was only one image in my mind.

The words my mother had just said:

“You weren't born to me.”

So that's how it was.

All along, the 370,000 yuan, the 200,000 yuan, every single cent I'd sent home for ten years—

It had all been my one-sided devotion.

They had raised me for fourteen years.

I had spent ten years paying them back.

I had paid until now.

And all I had left was one sentence:

“Get out.”

I walked to the old pagoda tree at the entrance of the village and stopped.

I took out my phone.

The screen was cracked, but it still worked.

I opened my photo album.

I found the copy of the property certificate.

Then the 370,000-yuan transfer record.

Then the recorded phone call with Chen Hui.

I called Old Zhou.

“Brother Zhou.”

“Mm.”

“I've left.”

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

“Where are you going?”

“I don't know.”

“Come to my place.”

Old Zhou's voice was steady.

“You still have those recordings and transfer records?”

“Yes.”

“Tomorrow I'll take you to see a lawyer.”

“Okay.”

After hanging up, I placed the pile of rain-soaked things I was carrying beneath the old pagoda tree.

Blood-pressure medicine.

Knee supports.

Cotton shoes.

I arranged them neatly.

Then I turned around.

With my back facing the home where I had lived for fourteen years, I limped into the rain one step at a time.

Behind me, the lights went out one by one.

I never looked back.

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