On the way back with my parents, there were occasional bird calls, but all I could think of was that scene.

So this is what they call a brick-raising day?

Is this how the most honorable day looks like? I think it's the proudest day for Pillar's parents.

They received their first sum of money.

My father suddenly spoke up ahead, "Did you see the brick-raising water that Pillar's dad wiped? That's some good stuff. It relies on it, batch after batch, especially in the beginning."

My mother responded, "Yes, it's just that he seems a bit off. The Pillar family still doesn't understand the importance, they only know how to raise without providing nourishment. They can't produce many batches of bricks!"

There was a hint of disdain in their voices, which startled me, but my mind was thinking.

Ever since my older brother moved into that partially enclosed dining room, our parents have been constantly bringing in delicious food for him.

Even if we didn't have money, they would go hunting to make a bowl of braised pork for him.

Before, I could only envy why our parents favored my older brother so much.

But now that I've witnessed brick-raising, I realized that this is what my mother called nourishment.

It turns out that when there's profit to be made, every act of kindness towards you is purposeful and must be repaid.

My older brother has been manipulated since he was a few years old.

He lies in bed, unable to move, unable to run or jump, only able to lie in a dark environment.

What will he have to endure now?

I dare not think about it and quickly hide inside the house when we return.

My mother angrily shouts, "What the hell are you doing, you annoying brat! Pour the water for me!"

I don't come out, and she curses and kicks the door as she leaves.

But I didn't expect that day was the beginning of my father's brick-raising.

I heard a scream, it was my older brother's.

Faster than my mind, I rushed out, burst open the door, and saw the scene before me.

My mother held down my brother's hands and feet, while my father peeled off his upper garment and applied something like water on his chest, saying as he applied,

"It's really good stuff, incredibly fragrant. Raise bricks well for me, let's have several batches of bricks!"

My mother nodded, still pressing down on my brother with force.

My brother's face twisted in pain, looking very agonized.

I didn't understand, but within two minutes, I noticed that the chest, which had been wiped with the water, slowly caved in, revealing flesh and blood.

Like sulfuric acid corroding flesh and blood, even though it was transparent, it had an incredibly fragrant scent.

My mother looked up and said, "What are you looking at? Your brother is raising bricks. I've raised him for so many years, and he agreed to it himself. It's just a little hardship."

I stuttered, "Really? He, he looks like he's in pain."

My father interjected, "That's how it goes, you can't have good days without enduring some hardships. I was the same way before."

"Your father, I used to be a well-regarded brick man, that's why I married your mother, right? The good days come later."