Leaving with nothing?
Wang Xiumei's grandparents were so furious they nearly passed out.
They should count themselves lucky if they weren't saddled with some of the family's debts.
And now they wanted to walk away with nothing? What a pipe dream.
But these words came from Wang Jianguo, the village chief.
No matter how resentful Wang Xiumei's grandparents felt, they didn’t dare show it—at least not yet.
"What do you think?"
Wang Jianguo turned to Wang Dazhi and his family of three.
"Agreed."
Wang Dazhi and Sun Fang didn’t hesitate before nodding eagerly.
Wang Jianguo finally felt a bit relieved.
Good. If they were on board, things would be much easier.
He then looked at Wang Xiumei's grandparents.
"Uncle, Aunt, what do you say?"
What did they say?
Of course, they disagreed!
Exchanging a glance, Wang Xiumei's grandparents slapped their thighs and wailed.
"How can this be allowed?"
"We slaved away raising Dazhi, arranged his marriage, and helped raise Xiumei—what sin did we commit to deserve this?"
"Ungrateful child! cough cough..."
Wang Xiumei's grandfather choked on his anger, and Wang Daqiang hurriedly patted his back.
"Third Brother, are you trying to kill our parents with this?"
Wang Jianguo fell silent.
He knew this wouldn’t be resolved easily.
If Wang Dazhi wanted to split from the family, he’d likely be skinned alive first.
Yu Lanhua, however, didn’t share her husband’s patience. She had no fear of these two old schemers.
Hands on her hips, she launched into a tirade.
"From the age of five, Wang Dazhi was out gathering wild vegetables and firewood for your family. When he finally got a couple of years of schooling, you pulled him out, claiming the family needed him to care for the fourth son and work..."
"Everyone in this village knows how much Wang Dazhi has sacrificed for your family. We’ve all seen it."
"And what have you done? Bullying the honest ones just because you’re old?"
"How much have you two actually spent on Wang Dazhi? Compare that to how much money and work points his family has brought in!"
The villagers watching began murmuring and pointing at Wang Xiumei's grandparents.
It was clear—Wang Dazhi’s family had the crowd’s support.
Seeing this, the grandparents dropped the act.
"Fine, want to split? Hand over a hundred—no, a thousand yuan!"
"That’s right. We raised Third Son with blood and sweat. He owes us this debt!"
The crowd fell silent.
Even Wang Jianguo and Yu Lanhua were at a loss.
Shen Nanchu raised an eyebrow.
So, they were using the "debt of upbringing" to extort their own child?
How interesting.
She wondered if they’d done the math properly.
As the saying goes, No kind deed goes unpunished.
But helping others brought its own joy.
Shen Nanchu, confident in her arithmetic, decided to lend a hand.
"Village Chief, Aunt Lanhua, I think they make a fair point."
"If a child wants to leave the family, they should repay the parents for their upbringing."
Wang Jianguo: "..."
Yu Lanhua: "..."
The Wang family: "..."
What kind of twisted logic was this?
Shen Nanchu turned to Wang Xiumei's grandparents.
"Are you sure it’s a thousand yuan?"
"Absolutely. Not a penny less!"
Wang Xiumei's grandmother nodded frantically, afraid the money would vanish.
Good. Clarity was key.
Shen Nanchu then smiled sweetly at Wang Jianguo.
The village chief felt a sudden dread.
Sure enough—
"Chief, weren’t you the Wang Family Village accountant before? Your bookkeeping skills are legendary."
"Why don’t you calculate exactly how much Wang Dazhi cost the family over the years?"
Wang Jianguo immediately grasped her plan.
Brilliant. Only Shen Nanchu could think of this.
"Gladly. Numbers are my specialty."
He grabbed a dry stick from the firewood pile and began scribbling in the dirt.
"Birth to age three—five pounds of grain per month for rice porridge, about one yuan monthly. Twelve yuan a year, thirty-six over three years."
"Ages four to twelve—fifteen pounds of grain monthly, 2.25 yuan. Twenty-seven yuan yearly, 216 over eight years."
"Ages thirteen to eighteen—fifty yuan annually, 300 over six years."
...
"Rounding down, total expenses: 1,125 yuan."
At this figure, greed and regret twisted the grandparents' faces.
They’d lowballed themselves.
Shen Nanchu watched their ugly expressions with disgust.
"Seems the Wang family invested heavily in Wang Dazhi—1,125 yuan, to be exact."
"Debts must be repaid. Wouldn’t you all agree?"
The crowd murmured assent.
Wang Xiumei's grandparents eagerly chimed in:
"Exactly!"
"Pay what you owe!"
Shen Nanchu locked eyes with them.
"And you stand by this principle?"
"Of course!"
"Absolutely!"
They didn’t know why Shen Nanchu was suddenly on their side, but they weren’t complaining.
"Clear accounts make good kin."
Shen Nanchu’s smile turned razor-sharp.
"Chief, now tally how much Wang Dazhi has earned for the family in work points and income."
Wang Jianguo’s stick moved again.
"Ages twelve to eighteen—near-full work points daily, fifty cents per day. 180 yuan yearly, 1,080 over six years."
"Ages eighteen to forty—twenty-two years of full points: 3,960 yuan."
"Plus side income as a carpenter—1,166 jobs over twenty-two years, roughly 2,000 yuan after rounding."
"And Sun Fang and Wang Xiumei’s contributions..."
...
"Total family earnings from Wang Dazhi’s household: 7,040 yuan."
The math was undeniable.
The grandparents spent 1,125 yuan on Wang Dazhi but reaped 7,040 yuan in return—a sixfold profit!
The villagers gasped.
So much for "raising sons for old age support."
Wang Dazhi had been their golden goose.
"Since Wang Dazhi must repay his upbringing costs..."
Shen Nanchu’s voice was honeyed.
"7,040 minus 1,125 leaves 5,915 yuan."
She beamed at the parasites.
"Time to settle the difference."
"Wait, Sister Shen."
Wang Xiumei stepped forward.
"Last month, Grandpa said Second Uncle needed money urgently. Dad cashed in his carpentry earnings early, borrowed from relatives, and gave me 250 yuan to deliver to Second Uncle in the city."
"That should be added back."
"New total: 6,175 yuan."
...
