Her Lamp in the South

When Xu Qinghe was twenty-six, her father was hospitalized, and her mother pressured her to sign an agreement.

The house would go to her younger brother.

She would share responsibility for her parents’ retirement and medical expenses.

She asked, “What about me?”

No one in the hospital room answered.

Her fiancé said she was being petty. Her relatives said she was unreasonable. Her younger brother said, “You’ll get married and move out eventually. Why are you fighting over this?”

Only then did Xu Qinghe realize that, in other people’s eyes, all those years of being sensible weren’t a sacrifice. They were simply what she was expected to do.

She called off the wedding and returned to Shenzhen.

She rented a bed in a shared room, worked night shifts, ran around the warehouse, filled out spreadsheets, paid rent, and covered medical bills.

She kept a record of every payment, saved every message, and filed away every document.

When people called her cold-blooded, she said, “Show me the receipts.”

When they called her petty, she said, “Put it in writing.”

Later, a company client specifically requested that she take charge of a project. Back home, the transfer of the family house could no longer be kept secret.

Her relatives surrounded her, asking her to give in just one last time.

Xu Qinghe spread three years of transfer records across the table.

“I’ve already given in.”

“Now it’s your turn to explain yourselves.”