Chapter 3

What truly made up my mind, made me unwilling to stay a single second longer, was my father's illness.

His leg had been saved by the surgery, but it left him with lasting complications, and he needed to take an imported anti-rejection drug long-term. That drug was very expensive, more than five thousand a month, and it wasn't covered by insurance.

For the past three years, apart from the fixed "living allowance" Lorraine gave me, I'd had no income at all. Out of that allowance, on top of daily expenses, I lived as frugally as I could and quietly set aside two thousand every month. Combined with what my mother earned from odd jobs, it was barely enough to cover my father's medication.

Two months before the agreement was set to expire, my mother called, her voice frantic. "Son, your father's leg has been hurting badly lately. The doctor examined him and said the old medicine has stopped working, that he needs to switch to one that's more effective but also more expensive—twelve thousand a month."

Twelve thousand a month. That's nearly a hundred and fifty thousand a year.

The figure was like a mountain, crushing down until I couldn't breathe.

The money I'd saved, plus the five hundred thousand Lorraine would give me when the agreement ended, seemed like a lot, but to cover my father's medication for the rest of his life, it was nowhere near enough.

For the first time, I brought something up with Lorraine myself.

That evening, for once she had no business engagements and was eating at home. I set the soup in front of her, hesitated a long time, and finally forced the words out. "Lorraine, I... I want to talk something over with you."

She stirred the soup with her spoon, not even looking up. "Go ahead."

"My father's condition... he needs to change medications, and it's very expensive. I was wondering if... could I get an advance on part of the remaining payment under our agreement?" The words came out utterly humble, and I felt like a beggar.

She finally raised her head, a hint of scrutiny in her eyes. "An advance? How much?"

"Two hundred thousand—no, a hundred and fifty thousand would be enough." I said it quickly. "I'll write you an IOU, and when the agreement expires, deduct it from the five hundred thousand."

Lorraine set down her spoon, leaned back in her chair, and crossed her arms—a textbook negotiating stance.

"Colin, the agreement we made back then was written very clearly. The final payment is settled in one lump sum after the term ends. There are still two months to go, and you want me to advance it to you?"

"My dad's situation is urgent—"

"That's your problem, not mine." She cut me off coldly. "I'm only responsible for fulfilling the contract. I'm under no obligation to cover your family's extra circumstances. Ours is a contractual relationship, not poverty relief."

My heart sank to the very bottom.

"But... over these three years, has everything I've done for you really been nothing but a cold contract?" I couldn't help asking. "I took care of your daily life, and when you were sick—"

"That's your job." She interrupted again, a trace of impatience in her voice. "Every single thing you've done is already included in that money. You think it's not enough?"

I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug deep into my flesh.

"Lorraine, just... just consider it me begging you—lend it to me, all right? I promise I'll pay it back."

She was silent for a moment, as if thinking it over.

Just when I thought she was about to give in, her phone rang. She glanced at the caller ID, and her expression softened instantly. It was her younger brother, Clifford.

"Hey, Clifford? ...What? You've got your eye on a sports car? ...Eight hundred thousand? You just got your license—driving a car that nice is too showy... All right, all right, stop whining, your sister will buy it for you. We'll go pick it up tomorrow, call it a graduation present."

After she hung up, the smile still lingered on her face.

An eight-hundred-thousand sports car, and she'd agreed without blinking an eye.

And me—all I wanted was an advance on money that was already mine, to save my father's life, and she'd humiliated me like this.

She shot me a glance, as if only now remembering I was still there.

"If there's nothing else, go on out. Don't spoil my mood while I'm eating." She picked up her spoon again, as if the conversation just now had been nothing more than a trivial little interlude.

I stood there, not moving.

In that moment, I heard something inside me shatter completely. It was my dignity, my illusions, and the last shred of the unrealistic hope I'd held out for her.

I said nothing, and quietly withdrew from the dining room.

That night I called my mother. I said, "Mom, leave the money to me. I'll figure it out. Tell Dad not to worry."

After I hung up, I opened my phone and started searching online for any kind of day-pay work. Food delivery, driving for a ride-hailing app, moving jobs... as long as the money came fast, I was willing to do it, no matter how hard or exhausting.

I couldn't count on anyone anymore.