"Congratulations! You damn well signed it! Momojiji is like a girl, isn't it just giving up the right to inherit the ancestral home? You are a useless courier sorter, do you still expect that this house will be your turn?"
The sharp female voice pierced the eardrums, and He Shi pinched the crookedly printed "Agreement on Voluntary Renunciation of Inheritance Rights" until his knuckles turned white. The mahogany Eight Immortals table in front of him was filled with chicken, duck, and fish, but he didn't move a bite. His stomach felt like a lump of moldy pickled cabbage, sour and bloated, and he felt nauseated.
Today is the anniversary of his grandfather's death, and it is also the annual "family gathering" of the He family. To put it bluntly, his patriarchal parents and his doted brother He Qiang jointly put on a "humiliating drama" for him.
"Xiao Ci, it's not what Mom said about you." Wang Xiulan, his mother, picked up a piece of fat and oily braised pork and stuffed it into He Qiang's bowl without even looking at He Ci. "Your brother is getting married soon, and the woman wants a house in the city center as a gift. This ancestral house should have been your brother's. If you sign, everyone will look good."
