My father-in-law, Rick, woke from his afternoon nap. I brought him a freshly brewed tonic broth. “Dad, give this a try. I made it especially for you.” I was about to turn back to the kitchen when Rick suddenly slammed the bowl onto the table with a crash. The scalding hot broth splashed all over my hand, but he just pointed at the bowl and spat, “The number of berries in here is odd! Odd numbers bring bad luck, you wicked woman! Are you trying to curse me to an early grave?” “I watched you put them in! Don’t even try to deny it!” “Son, listen to your dad. Divorce her! Our family has no room for such a vicious woman!” I looked at my husband, Brandon. Not only did he not stand up for me, but he frowned in disgust. “Then let’s get divorced. Marrying you was the worst luck imaginable.” Suddenly, a system notification popped up before my eyes: [Filial Duty Audit System detected divorce intent. Calculating in-marriage filial duty contributions…] My hand was bright red and throbbing with a fiery pain. Brandon’s words, though, burned even hotter than the scalding broth. Three years of marriage, and I’d spun around this family like a top, waiting on my in-laws, supporting my husband. And all I got in return was “the worst luck imaginable.” My father-in-law, Rick, was still stirring the pot. “See? She’s not even apologizing! This kind of woman should just get lost!” I was trembling with rage, a knot of fury tightening in my chest, making it impossible to breathe. Just then, those cold, blue lines of text slowly unfolded before my eyes. [Contributions being calculated…] [During your marriage, you provided Filial Duty Contributions to your father-in-law, Rick, a total of 2,358 times, equivalent to $1,179,000 USD.] [During your marriage, you provided Filial Duty Contributions to your mother-in-law, Carol, a total of 3,102 times, equivalent to $1,551,000 USD.] [Your support and contributions to your husband, Brandon, are not included in Filial Duty Contributions and have been automatically converted to marital assets, to be divided separately upon divorce.] [Total Filial Duty Debt: $2,730,000 USD.] [Please select settlement mode: A. Private Settlement B. Public Settlement (requires a $100,000 activation fee)] I froze. What was this? A hallucination? I blinked, but the lines of text remained clearly suspended in mid-air, visible only to me. Two million seven hundred thirty thousand dollars. Had my three years of effort truly been worth so much? Brandon saw me standing there, speechless, and grew even more impatient. “Eleanor, are you mute? Tomorrow, we’re going to the lawyer’s office to file. The house and cars were bought by my parents, so you won’t get a single cent. Now get out!” Rick crossed his arms, a smug look on his face. “Hear that? Our family isn’t a charity.” I looked at their tag-teaming faces, and the last shred of warmth in my heart flickered out. I took a deep breath and lightly tapped a finger in the air. I chose A. Private Settlement. I wanted to see the expressions on their faces when this bill landed squarely in front of them. Almost simultaneously, Brandon’s and Rick’s phones rang sharply. They impatiently pulled out their phones. The next second, their expressions froze. Brandon’s eyes widened, his mouth agape enough to fit an egg. “W-what is this thing?” He shoved his phone screen in my face. It was an official text message from a Bank Notary Office. [To Mr. Brandon Chen and Mr. Richard Chen: Pursuant to the In-Marriage Filial Duty Audit Agreement, you collectively owe Ms. Eleanor Lin $2,730,000 USD. Please settle this amount within 72 hours, or forced enforcement procedures will be initiated.] Rick snatched the phone, squinting to read, his presbyopic eyes repeatedly confirming the long string of zeroes. “Two million seven hundred thirty thousand? Is she crazy? This must be a scam text!” Brandon also snapped out of it, glaring at me fiercely. “Eleanor, is this your doing? Did you hire someone to fake this to extort money? I’m telling you, no way!” As he spoke, he lunged to grab my phone. I stepped back, watching him coldly. “Whether it’s a scam or not, you both know deep down.” “How many times did I cook tonic broth for your dad, how many times did I rush him to the ER in the middle of the night, how many times did I act as your mom’s personal shopper and ATM on her shopping sprees? You may deny these, but the system won’t.” Rick’s face flushed crimson with anger. He pointed a finger at my nose and yelled, “You ungrateful wretch! We’ve wasted three years feeding you! Every cent you spent came from our family!” Just then, the door opened. My mother-in-law, Carol, walked in, laden with shopping bags. “What’s all the shouting about? I could hear you all the way downstairs.” The moment she entered, she saw our tense standoff and immediately pointed her accusations at me. “It’s you again, you jinx! Always making my old man angry?” Brandon looked like he’d found a savior and quickly handed her his phone. “Mom, look! Eleanor’s gone crazy. She hired someone to send scam texts, claiming we owe her over two million dollars!” Carol took the phone, glanced at it, and scoffed. “Two point seven million? Why doesn’t she just rob a bank?” She tossed the phone onto the coffee table and walked up to me, her eyes filled with scorn and calculation. “Eleanor, I know you don’t want a divorce, and you’re trying to use these cheap tricks to cling on.” “Let me tell you something straight: a divorce is happening. I’ll be generous and give you fifty thousand dollars as compensation for your three years of hard work.” She paused, her tone dripping with condescension. “Take the money and leave gracefully. Don’t play these ridiculous games that make everyone laugh at you.”
Fifty thousand dollars. To dismiss a housekeeper who had served their entire family for three years. I looked at Carol’s mouth, painted with exquisite lipstick, and felt nothing but profound irony. “What if I don’t?” I asked. Carol’s face instantly darkened. “Ungrateful.” She turned to Brandon: “Son, don’t waste your breath on her. She just wants more money. I’ve seen plenty of women like her. Ignore her for a few days, and she’ll cave.” Rick chimed in, “Exactly! Don’t bother with her! Let’s see what tricks she can pull!” The three of them reached a consensus, completely ignoring me and the audit text, and began watching TV as if I were invisible. The noisy chatter of the TV show mingled with the burning pain on the back of my hand. Oppression, rage, humiliation. I clenched my fists, turned, and went back to my room, slamming the door shut. I stared at the system panel before me. The line “Total Filial Duty Debt: $2,730,000 USD” was my only leverage. I couldn’t just let this go. I clicked on the system and found that besides the settlement modes, there was also an “Information Inquiry” function, which required a $1,000 system credit fee. I didn’t hesitate to pay. [Information Inquiry function activated. Please enter the content you wish to inquire about.] I tentatively typed in “Mother-in-law Carol, health supplements.” I remembered last month, I had spent twenty thousand dollars to get premium quality health supplements for Rick’s health. But he only took them once, claiming they tasted weird, and Carol packed the rest away. The next second, a string of information popped up on the system interface. [Query Results:] [Date: Xth of X month. Event: You purchased premium health supplements valued at $20,000 USD.] [Fund Flow Tracking:] [X+1th of X month, Carol contacted second-hand supplement resale dealer “Mike’s Resale” via SnapChat, selling the supplements for $8,000 USD.] Attached were clear screenshots of their SnapChat conversation. Carol: “Mike, got another batch of good stuff. Premium grade, and that idiot daughter-in-law bought it.” Mike’s Resale: “Carol, you’re amazing! Same price as before?” Carol: “Yep, just transfer the money directly to my card.” My heart sank a little further. Following this was the bank transfer record. $8,000, not a cent missing. But that wasn’t all. The system continued to display. [X+1th of X month, 3:30 PM, Carol transferred $8,000 USD to bank account ending in XXXX. Recipient: Tiffany Chen.] [Memo: Tiffany, a little spending money from your aunt. Buy whatever you like.] Tiffany Chen. Brandon’s cousin, Carol’s niece. The princess who was doted on by the entire family, who would order me around every time she visited, while my in-laws and Brandon would only tell me to “be more accommodating” to my “sister.” My $20,000 act of filial devotion was sold by my mother-in-law for $8,000, which then became her niece’s spending money. I felt a chill run from the soles of my feet straight to the top of my head. I continued to enter keywords. “Mother-in-law Carol, high-end organic supplements.” “Father-in-law Rick, massage chair.” “Brandon, startup fund.” One by one, shocking query results appeared. The $8,000 high-end organic supplements I bought were exchanged by her for $3,000 worth of cheap alternatives, with the difference going into Tiffany’s pocket. The $30,000 full-feature massage chair I bought for Rick was deemed too space-consuming by him and sold to a neighbor for $10,000. That money went to Brandon for “business expenses.” The most ridiculous part was that I had given Brandon my emergency savings that my parents had given me, $200,000, to support his “startup.” The system showed that the money was transferred to a gambling website account that very day and lost completely. But Brandon had told me it was an investment failure, a total loss. He had even held me, swearing, “Don’t worry, darling. When I get back on my feet, I’ll make sure you live a good life.” A good life? My efforts, my sacrifices, my heartfelt devotion – in their eyes, I was nothing more than an ATM to be freely used, a recycling station for resources. And all the value harvested flowed to the people they truly cared about. Me, I was nothing. I leaned against the cold wall and laughed. I laughed until tears streamed down my face. Eleanor, Eleanor, you’re truly the biggest fool.
The next morning, I calmly packed my suitcase. As I wheeled my luggage out of the room, the Chen family was sitting at the dining table, eating the bagels and drinking the coffee I’d prepared last night. They didn’t even glance at me. Carol spoke in a passive-aggressive tone, “Oh, so you’ve come to your senses? Ready to get lost?” Brandon took a sip of his coffee and snorted, “Good, she knows her place.” I ignored them and walked straight to the door to change my shoes. Seeing my silence, Carol assumed I’d caved, and a hint of smugness entered her voice. “Eleanor, that fifty thousand dollars? You’ll get it after you sign the divorce papers. Don’t try any tricks, or you won’t get a single cent.” My back to them, I quietly hummed in acknowledgment. This response completely put them at ease. Carol even feigned concern, “After you leave, find a decent job. Don’t always think about shady ways to make money.” I finished changing my shoes, opened the door, and looked back at them one last time. The three of them were sitting together, seemingly happy, as if they were about to get rid of a huge problem. Their faces held undisguised relief and pleasure. I smiled, then closed the door. Goodbye, my foolish three years of youth. I didn’t go back to my parents’ house. Instead, I used the last bit of money in my account to rent a small studio apartment near my company. After settling in, the first thing I did was send Brandon a message. “A divorce is fine. I’ll leave with nothing. But I have one condition.” Brandon replied almost instantly, his tone wary. “What condition? I’m telling you, no money!” “Don’t worry, it’s not about money.” I typed, “Tomorrow is your company’s Family Day, right? I want to come and see it, since I won’t have another chance. Think of it as a final farewell.” Brandon’s company held an annual Family Day event, inviting employees’ families. It was an important occasion to showcase the company’s humanistic care and employees’ family happiness. He was always concerned about appearances. In previous years, he would force me to dress up and play the loving wife in front of his colleagues. Sure enough, he hesitated. If I caused a scene today, and he showed up alone tomorrow, his colleagues would question him, and he’d lose face. If I cooperated with him for this last act and we parted ways amicably, it would be the best outcome for him. A few minutes later, he replied. “Fine. But remember this: don’t try anything funny, or I’ll make you regret it!” “Don’t worry.” I put away my phone and looked out the window. The calm before the storm. Brandon, Carol, Rick, and Tiffany. What you owe me, I will collect, every single cent, with interest. And this Family Day is the first stage I’ve meticulously prepared for all of you. I opened the system panel, looking at the “B. Public Settlement (requires a $100,000 activation fee)” option. The money in my account wasn’t enough. But I knew it would be soon. I clicked on “Information Inquiry” and typed “Brandon, secret stash.” The system quickly provided results. A bank account I’d never heard of, with $153,000 quietly sitting in it. His secret savings. The system even thoughtfully added a small line of text. [These funds in this account are marital assets.] I smiled. Perfect. The activation fee for the public settlement. I had it. Brandon’s company’s Family Day was held on a massive lawn. The sun was shining, and balloons, streamers, and laughter filled the air.
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