Abandoned Daughter’s Revenge Call

Chapter 1 The Phone Call That Broke Five Years of Silence

My mom, who hadn't contacted me in five years, suddenly called.

"Your Older Brother lost all the family money. He's in jail now."

"You need to figure out a way to get him out. After that, I'll come live with you and you'll take care of me in my old age."

"No matter what, the Debt Of Giving Birth And Raising is greater than anything. You can't just abandon me."

I let out a cold laugh.

"You never raised me. Where does any raising debt come from? As for the birth part, when you took every cent of Dad's accident compensation, didn't you say you'd pretend I was never your daughter from then on?"

The voice on the other end sounded the same as I remembered, yet strangely distant now.

My mom was right. The Debt Of Giving Birth And Raising was supposed to be greater than anything.

But any Debt Of Giving Birth And Raising toward me had been buried along with my dad's ashes when I was six.

Dad was a construction worker. He fell from the fifth-floor scaffolding and died on the spot.

The foreman was a decent man. He gathered twenty thousand in compensation and personally brought it to our house.

It was the first time I saw that much money. The red bills piled on the dining table like a small mountain.

Mom held my Older Brother Lin Kai in her arms. There were no tears in her eyes—only greed.

She counted the money over and over. Her fingertips trembled.

Relatives crowded around her, chattering advice. No one glanced at me.

I clutched Dad's only framed black-and-white photo and hid behind the door.

The funeral was rushed.

After the guests left, Mom grabbed Lin Kai, stuffed the last of the household cash into that faded cloth bag, and started packing.

Aunt finally couldn't hold back.

She seized Mom's wrist, voice thick with suppressed fury.

"Sister-in-law, what are you doing? Qiaoqiao is still right here!"

Mom gave her a contemptuous glance and shook her off hard.

"What am I doing? Taking my Lin Kai to live a good life, of course. As for this money pit,"

She jerked her chin toward me with scorn. "Whoever wants her can have her."

Aunt trembled with rage. She pulled me behind her to shield me, eyes bloodshot as she glared at Mom.

"How can you say something like that! Qiaoqiao is your own flesh and blood! Even tigers don't eat their cubs!"

"Your own flesh and blood?" Mom sneered, the sound dripping with disdain.

"If it weren't for giving birth to Lin Kai, I never would've suffered like this! Daughters, daughters—they're just debt collectors! They'll belong to someone else's family sooner or later!"

Aunt seemed stunned by the cruelty. After a long pause, she spoke in an almost pleading tone.

"Even... even if you won't take her with you, at least leave some money for her, right? She's just a child. How is she supposed to survive? You know our family..."

"Money?" Mom laughed as if she'd heard the funniest joke in the world. She clutched the bulging cloth bag to her chest like it was her lifeline.

"I raised her this long without asking her for child support—that's already generous! You're her blood aunt, my husband's only sibling. Can you really bear to watch her end up on the street?"

With that, she dragged Lin Kai away and left without looking back.

My mind went blank. The only instinct left was to run after her, grab the corner of her rough shirt, and cry with all my strength.

"Mom... Mom, look at me..."

She shook me off impatiently. I fell hard onto the cold concrete. The photo frame shattered. Glass sliced across Dad's face in the picture and cut open my palm.

Blood mixed with tears. All I remembered was her ruthless back and the indifferent look Lin Kai gave me when he turned his head.

Aunt's home was small—one room, one hall. The kitchen and bathroom were shared in the hallway with neighbors.

Uncle worked as an electrician in a state-owned factory. Aunt sold vegetables at the market. They had a son two years older than me—Gu Feng.

My arrival made the house even more cramped.

They partitioned a corner of the living room with wooden boards. That tiny space became my room—just big enough for a narrow bed.

That night I lay listening to Aunt and Uncle arguing in hushed voices from the inner room.

"She didn't give a single cent and just dumped the child here? On what grounds! Do they think our home is a charity?"

Uncle's voice held back anger.

"Your brother passed away, but the child's mother is still alive! She took the twenty thousand to enjoy life and threw the burden on us. Where in the world is there such logic!"

Aunt's voice cracked with tears.

"What can I do? That's my own brother! His body isn't even cold yet—how could I push his only daughter out the door? That heartless woman—we can't count on her—but the child is innocent!"

I curled up on the small bed, buried my face in the blanket, and bit my lip so hard I tasted blood.

I was terrified that if they kept arguing, they'd send me away.

The next morning Aunt got up with eyes swollen like walnuts. She saw I'd already swept the narrow living room spotless.

She paused. The irritation and exhaustion in her eyes eased a little. She seemed about to speak, but in the end just pressed her lips tight and went to the shared kitchen.

Gu Feng came out with his schoolbag, saw me, gave an unhappy grunt, and walked around me.

I knew I'd taken his space.

That corner used to be where he kept his Transformers.

I stood awkwardly.

Uncle came out from the inner room, his face dark and heavy with exhaustion.

He didn't look at me, just went straight to the shared bathroom to wash up.

When he returned I was still standing helplessly in the corner. He paused mid-step, glanced at me with a complicated look.

Without a word, he pulled a warm egg from his pocket—still carrying his body heat—and pressed it into my hand. Then he got on his bicycle and rode to work.

I held the egg. Tears welled up, but I refused to let them fall.

Mom used to say crying was the most useless thing—it only made people hate you more.

But the warmth of that egg made me feel safe for the first time.

At noon Aunt came back from the market to cook.

She moved quickly—stir-fried green pepper potato strips and tomato scrambled eggs.

The golden eggs and bright red tomatoes filled the hallway with fragrance.

She scooped two bowls of rice. One for Gu Feng. One on the table. Then she leaned against the doorframe to eat her own.

I stared at the steaming bowl of white rice on the table. I didn't dare touch it.

Back home Mom always said the good food belonged to my Older Brother. Girls should just eat enough to fill their stomachs—never sit at the table.

I whispered, "Aunt, I'm... not hungry."

Aunt frowned. Her eyes mixed pity with frustration.

"Not hungry? You still have to eat! I have to go back to the stall this afternoon—no time to mind you."

I still didn't move. I went to the small stool in the corner and sat down.

Aunt stared at me for a few seconds. Suddenly she slammed her bowl on the doorframe with a loud clunk.

She strode over, dumped the tiny bit of rice in my bowl, went back to the kitchen, filled a big full bowl, piled two huge scoops of tomato scrambled eggs on top, and shoved it into my hands.

"Sit at the table to eat!" Her voice was loud.

"In my house there aren't so many rules. Meals are eaten at the table. If you dare sit on that little stool again, I'll throw you out the window!"

I was terrified. I carried the bowl—bigger than my face—and trembled as I sat at the table.

The rice soaked with sweet-and-sour tomato juice tasted so good I wanted to cry.

I knew the harsh words hid a clumsy kind of acceptance.

I shoveled huge mouthfuls into my mouth. Tears fell into the bowl anyway—plink, plink.

Gu Feng slammed his chopsticks down beside me.

"What are you crying for? We give you food and you cry—like someone bullied you!"

I shook my head quickly, sobbing.

"I'm sorry... I... I'm just happy. The eggs are really good."

Gu Feng went quiet.

Aunt snapped at him.

"Eat your food and shut your mouth!"

Then she added another big pile of potato strips to my bowl.

I lived at Aunt's house for a week, always careful, walking on eggshells.

I no longer had the meal ticket I could rely on for peaceful sleep. I knew I was pure burden here.

I worked hard—swept floors, wiped tables, learned to wash my own little socks—just to seem less troublesome.

One evening after I finished wiping the table, Aunt called me over.

Her eyes fell on my old shoes—the glue had come apart, toes splitting open to show gray socks.

"Take those broken shoes off," she said.

They were the shoes Dad bought me while he was still alive.

I shrank my feet back in embarrassment.

Aunt didn't say another word. She pulled me up and took me downstairs.

I asked in panic, "Aunt, where are we going?"

She didn't answer—just walked ahead with her head down.

At the small goods market on the street she stopped at a shoe stall, picked the most ordinary white canvas shoes, and asked for my size.

She squatted down. Her rough hands held my foot and slipped the new shoes on.

Perfect fit—not too big, not too small.

She haggled with the boss over two yuan for a long time.

On the way back our shadows stretched long under the streetlights.

Aunt suddenly spoke.

"From now on, if anyone bullies you outside, tell Gu Feng. Let him stand up for you. If even Gu Feng can't handle it, come back and tell me. I'll grab a kitchen knife and fight them myself!"

Tears surged again, but I held them back hard.

I looked down at the brand-new white sneakers glowing under the dim yellow light.

Those shoes felt like something solid under me at last.