Editing the video to be released tomorrow, when my phone rings.

It's my cousin who rarely contacts me. The voice on the other end is noisy:

"Yanyan, look at you, you're so busy that you didn't even personally come back for your wedding banquet. Congratulations!"

I feel a bit confused: "Huh?"

Most of the blessings from elders are self-talk. She continues:

"You don't need to feel embarrassed about this. The wedding banquet your mother prepared for you in our hometown is grand, with twenty or thirty tables. It's a pity that we didn't see you and your husband, but we, your relatives, are relieved as long as we know you're doing well."

I hang up the phone in a state of confusion and call my mother directly:

"Mom, Cousin said you arranged a wedding banquet for me at home, but I didn't get married. What's going on?"

The noise on the other end of the phone decreases significantly, probably because she found a quieter place. She lowers her voice and explains:

"You've been dating that boyfriend of yours for six or seven years, and you still don't plan to get married. I think the two of you probably won't last. I've been urging you to get married for years, but there hasn't been any progress. So I decided to hold a wedding banquet in advance to collect the betrothal gifts. Isn't this reasonable?"

I feel a surge of anger rising in me, stunned by her audacity.

She continues to justify herself, "Remember, from now on, you will be considered a married person in our hometown. Don't let slip of the tongue spoil it for me."

I incredulously ask, "You're asking me to pretend to get married in our hometown just for some betrothal gifts?"

Her voice becomes sharp, "What do you mean 'just for some betrothal gifts'? Relatives know that you married a wealthy man, and they gave a lot. It adds up to hundreds of thousands! If you want to hold a wedding in the future, just say you got a divorce and are remarrying. It's not a big deal."

"I'm not talking to you anymore. Our relatives are waiting for me to give a speech. Today, without you, I'm the center of attention."

After she hangs up, my head throbs with anger. I kick the table in frustration, forgetting that I'm only wearing slippers, and I hold my foot in pain, tears welling up.

I wipe my teary eyes and look at the computer screen. The video being edited freezes on one frame.

Under the brilliant sunlight, I'm dressed in top designer clothes, holding a luxury handbag, slightly tilting my head and smiling with curved eyebrows. The flowers around me pale in comparison. It was taken a few days ago in the famous Sunrise Garden in City B.

But the confrontation with my mother just now made me feel like I'm back in my childhood.

We weren't lacking money at home, but we always sacrificed dignity and respect for the sake of money.

Back then, I really wanted to go to the central park. My mother finally agreed a few days before my birthday. The night before we left, I carefully selected my favorite drinks and snacks and put them in a small backpack.

Early the next morning, I put on the most beautiful hairpins and hair bands, and wore new clothes to go out with my mother.

Even though the sleeves of the new clothes were too long, it didn't dampen my excitement. I had already gotten used to the fact that in adults' eyes, clothes that can be worn for a few more years are more cost-effective than briefly fitting ones.

The queue to enter the park was getting shorter and shorter. I was excited and bouncing around, and my mother whispered to me:

"We only bought one ticket, so later on, follow behind that aunty in front of us and sneak in. Crouch down a bit, the ticket checker will see you're small and won't make it difficult for you."

I tightened the straps of my backpack and vigorously shook my head, almost begging, "Mom, please buy another ticket. I can get in with a half-price ticket."

She started to get impatient, "We've been waiting in line for so long. You insisted on coming, so why don't you want to go in now?"

After saying that, she pushed me forward, and it was the aunty's turn to show the ticket.

The unfamiliar aunty was surprised by my proximity, and then she seemed to understand something. She slightly quickened her pace, and I reluctantly followed behind.

I kept my head low and crouched, the ticket checker's gaze scanning me.

Her seemingly gentle gaze felt as heavy as a thousand pounds, forcing me to bow my back. In the end, she showed mercy and let the ticket evader pass.

I successfully entered the park, feeling a sourness in my nose and tears welling up in my eyes.

I wanted to ask my mother if she felt embarrassed about evading the ticket, so she pretended not to know me and let me follow the stranger into the park.

I wanted to ask her why she thought it was my responsibility to do something embarrassing.

But in the end, I didn't say anything.

I took off the pretty hairpin and regretted wearing new clothes. The snacks and drinks tasted like wax.

The long-awaited scenery became a desolate sight, and I just hoped that as an intruder, I could quickly leave the park.

My mother couldn't understand my urgency, and her face turned gloomy, "You were the one who wanted to come, and now you're complaining about leaving. No one will indulge your bad habits. We've already spent the ticket money, so you have to spend enough time here."

I cried as I walked around for a few hours. That was the first and last time I went to that park.

I snap back to reality and stand up to check my luxury handbags and clothes in the cloakroom.

The inferiority bred from poverty requires multiplied money to break free.

I spend almost obsessively, trying to dispel the allure of the unattainable in my youth.

Looking at my reflection in the full-length mirror, I take a deep breath and tell myself:

【Zhou Yang, it's not like before. What your mother does is her own business. You are far away from her now and live a decent and dignified life.】