I used to think that even if my parents were not good to me, they would still be good to outsiders.

He Xiaoman does not belong to our small family of three, so I never thought my parents would do anything to her.

Now they have moved He Xiaoman out of her original family and are using her as a negative example to warn me. They are showing me that if I end up like He Xiaoman, I will meet the same fate, abandoned by my parents.

They ruthlessly expose He Xiaoman's scars, cold-blooded and heartless, all for the sake of making me see.

Our home is in the suburbs, within a small ecosystem centered around an old machinery factory.

The people living here are more or less connected by some family or friend relationships, passed down from the older generation to the next, and the one after that.

This small ecosystem cannot tolerate any outsiders, the inherent exclusivity is deeply ingrained and repulsive.

He Xiaoman has a bad reputation here. The idle aunties at the entrance of our neighborhood gossip about He Xiaoman's parents divorcing because she was disobedient.

They also talk about how she moved to this city alone because her parents didn't want her, and no one besides giving her money wanted to take care of her.

They say she is an unwanted child.

And at this moment, facing my father's fierce face and my mother's submissive demeanor towards my father.

I suddenly feel that maybe being an unwanted child isn't so bad after all.

There seems to be an immense gap between my parents and me, an invisible but ever-present gap that manifests in every interaction we have.

I meet my parents' gaze and say calmly, "Fifty thousand, right? With fifty thousand, you will never bother me again in your lifetime, right?"

"You can have the money, but every fifty thousand must be clearly accounted for. Write down everything I spend it on, what I use it for."

My father, with red eyes, shouts, "You! You have no shame!"

"Zhang Yuanyuan, you are ruthless, remember what you said today."

He angrily slams the door and leaves, while my mother points at me and shouts, "You... you! If you don't listen to your father, can he harm you?"

"Have you not harmed me enough from childhood to now? How many beatings and scoldings have I endured for no reason? Always siding with outsiders, I am your own daughter!"

I pound my chest, hysterically shouting at her, my voice sharp and loud. I put all my strength into saying these words, and by the end, my voice is already fragmented.

My mother glares at me with resentment, then hurriedly runs out to chase after my father.

Watching her resolutely leave, tears fall from my eyes.

From childhood to now, my mother has only lived by relying on my father.

Sometimes she resents my father's violent temper, curses him behind his back, but as soon as he returns home, my mother willingly cooks for him and washes his socks.

She says, "That's how marriage is, there's no avoiding it. A couple will be buried together even in death."

But, Mom, life is meant to be lived for oneself!