The doors at home were wide open without me having to kick them.

Walking in the dimly lit corridor, I could hear the laughter of my parents and uncle and aunt.

Sharp and nauseating.

They were gathered around a small table drinking tea, none of them expected me to come back voluntarily.

I flipped over the small table, and the scalding hot tea splashed straight onto my dad's leg.

The tea set on the table and the fruit plate tumbled to the ground with the table, the sound of things shattering composing the most pleasant symphony.

My dad cursed out loud, "You brat! Have you gone mad? If I don't hit you, you forget what pain is?"

Aunt screamed, my mom and uncle echoed my dad's angry scolding.

The scene was chaotic, a mess.

I remained calm, turned around and went into the kitchen, casually grabbing a kitchen knife from who knows where.

I slammed the kitchen knife on the overturned table.

They all fell silent immediately, looking at each other with questioning eyes.

I asked them, "What do you want?"

My mom stood in front of my dad and uncle, anxiously shouting at me, "What do you mean, what do you want, what are you doing, can't we talk it out?"

My dad kept demanding money from me, my mom broke down in tears, screaming at him to shut up, then she turned to me, squeezing out a smile uglier than crying, saying, "Yuanyuan... Yuanyuan, listen to mom, bring out the account, give it to your sister."

"Don't be so stingy, Yuanyuan, your sister is different from you, she only has a college degree, her future is in your hands, give the account to your sister, okay?"

By the end, she couldn't even force out a smile, her tears falling on her clothes one by one.

Her voice hoarse and broken, she said, "You go to college, forget about the money, just bring out the account for your sister, you're still young, you have many opportunities."

I smiled.

I pulled out a notebook from the drawer, tore out two pages at random, and started writing on them.

Since they wanted the account, I would give it to them.

The paper was filled with giving them the account, once I did that, we would be even, owing nothing to each other.

I found a lipstick on my mom's dressing table, dipped my thumb in it, and pressed it firmly on my signature.

Circles of red fingerprints, from now on, completely severed the boundary between me and my parents.

My dad was initially reluctant, but in my mom's hysterical, tearful, and desperate scream, he finally pressed his fingerprint.

Was this a contract?

Perhaps it wouldn't have any legal effect, because parents and children can never legally sever their relationship.

But public opinion can.

I deleted the account from my phone, changed the password at their request, and re-linked it to their phone.

As I walked out holding that piece of paper, I knew—I had won.

In this game that had lasted for over a decade, I turned everything around, finally placing myself in the position of the victor.