Truly pathetic. The bus arrived, I got on, and found a seat by the window.

The bus started moving. I watched the streetscape receding rapidly outside the window, my mood without a ripple.

That night when I got home, I told my parents about this. After listening, my father’s face turned blue, and he was about to go settle the score with the Miller family.

I stopped him. "Dad, don't go. There’s nothing to say to a person like that; it’ll only lower us to his level."

Looking at my calm face, my father eventually suppressed his rage.

However, we wanted to let things be, but the other side wouldn't let it rest.

After nine in the evening, my father’s phone rang.

It was an unfamiliar number. My father answered and put it on speaker.

"Hello? Is this Older Brother Xu Zhiqiang?" A weary and aged voice came from the other side.

It was Uncle Miller. "It’s me." My father’s voice was very cold.

"Brother Xu, I have failed you. I didn't raise my son right, and I have failed Nina..." Uncle Miller’s voice was filled with guilt and pleading. "I know everything I say now is too late, but I still want to beg you—beg Nina—to call the school and say the previous withdrawal was just a prank, and let her go back to study..."

"Boss Miller," my father interrupted him, not even calling him 'Older Brother Miller' anymore, "My daughter’s life is her own to decide. No one can force her onto a path she doesn't want to take. Nothing else? I'm hanging up."

"No! Brother Xu, don't hang up!" Uncle Miller’s voice became urgent. "I’m begging you! Just for the sake of our friendship of many years! Seth... he went to Nina’s school to make trouble today, and the impact is very bad. The university has already... already given him a disciplinary warning! If he can't get his diploma because of this, his whole life will be ruined! Please, let Nina return. Only if she returns can Seth’s disciplinary record possibly be cleared! This is all for the sake of the child..."

Hearing this, I finally understood.

So Seth coming to find me today wasn't for repentance; it was because he was disciplined by the school and scared, so he wanted to use me as a tool to solve his trouble again.

And this phone call from Uncle Miller, seemingly repentant, was ultimately for the sake of his own son.

Their family, from beginning to end, had never truly cared about the injury I had suffered. They only cared about how much my decision would cost them.

My father was silent for a few seconds, then, with a coldness and decisiveness I had never heard before, said every word clearly:

"Your son’s future is a matter for the Miller family. My daughter’s dignity is the life of the Xu family."

"From now on, our two families have nothing more to do with each other." With that, he hung up the phone directly.

13

After my father hung up the phone, a strange silence fell over the living room. That sentence, "From now on, our two families have nothing more to do with each other," was like a decisive blade, completely severing the neighborhood friendship and fake pleasantries of the past few decades.

Mom didn't say anything, just silently walked over and poured a glass of hot water for Dad. Dad took the cup, his hand still trembling slightly, but his eyes were extraordinarily firm. I knew that he had made the most correct, yet most difficult, decision for me and for our family.

After that night, the Miller family completely vanished from our daily conversations. We no longer mentioned them, as if they were just ordinary neighbors who had moved away. I, on the other hand, immersed myself even more single-mindedly into the bitter sea of repeating a year, battling through mountains of books and seas of exam papers every day, using knowledge and grades to build my future fortress.

Peaceful days passed for about half a month.

That day, when I returned from evening self-study at school, I felt something was off as soon as I entered the door. Mom and Dad were sitting on the sofa with heavy expressions; on the coffee table sat an unopened box of cigarettes—something Dad had quit for nearly ten years.

"Mom, Dad, what’s wrong?" I put down my schoolbag and asked.

Mom glanced at me, hesitating to speak.

Dad sighed, picked up the pack of cigarettes, then put it back down, ultimately not lighting one. He said in a deep voice, "Today, everyone in the complex is saying that your Uncle Miller... has been hospitalized."

I was stunned, but I didn't feel much of a ripple in my heart.

"What happened?" I asked calmly.

"I heard it was that night, after they spoke with us on the phone," Dad's voice was very low; he had clearly pieced the full picture together from the chatter of neighbors, "he and Seth argued very fiercely. In the middle of the argument, he suddenly collapsed and couldn't speak clearly... It was Mrs. Miller who called 120. When the ambulance arrived, the whole hallway was stirred up. They say it was... a cerebral hemorrhage."

A cerebral hemorrhage. It was a very heavy word to hear.

Mom added from the side, her tone carrying a hint of human sighing: "I heard from Aunt Zhang that after being sent to the hospital for emergency rescue half the night, his life was saved, but half his body is paralyzed. No one knows what the recovery will be like. Mrs. Miller has been running back and forth between the hospital and home these few days, and she’s almost collapsed. Seth... seems to have returned from school too, staying at home every day without even stepping out the door."

I listened quietly. I could imagine the gloom and fog surrounding the Miller family at this moment. For a family's pillar to suddenly collapse was no less than the sky falling for a woman like Mrs. Miller, who had almost no independence, and for Seth, that "giant baby" still living in his own world.

And the fuse for all of this had been lit by Seth himself. He had personally handed the scissors to Sonia and personally pushed his family into the abyss.

Dad looked at me with complex eyes, seemingly observing my reaction, as if struggling with himself: "Nina, Dad knows... this has nothing to do with us. But... after all, they were old neighbors of decades; your Uncle Miller... used to help us with small things before. Look, your mother’s thought is, should we... take a moment to visit the hospital? Not for anything else, just to... fulfill the final bit of civility."

I understood my parents' kindness. They were of the traditional older generation, valuing human relationships and social etiquette; even after being hurt, it was difficult for them to be truly cold and heartless.

I looked at them and shook my head. "Mom, Dad, I don't want to go." My voice was light, but my attitude was firm. "If I go, what does it mean? It means we’ve forgiven them, it means we’ve gone soft. What will Mrs. Miller and Seth think? They won't be grateful for our tolerance; they will only feel they’ve grabbed a life-saving straw, thinking there’s still room for maneuvering. They will tie Seth’s future, his disciplinary record, and his father’s illness all together and press it upon us again."

I paused, looking into their eyes, and said every word clearly: "Our visiting won't help Uncle Miller’s condition at all, but it will bring us endless trouble. His illness was caused by Seth, and Seth should be the one to bear this consequence. We are not saints; we are just an ordinary family that has been deeply hurt by them. Our kindness should be reserved for those who deserve it."

My words were like a scalpel, precisely dissecting the layer of "civility" in Mom and Dad’s hearts, revealing the bloody reality beneath.

Indeed, sympathy and visits might not bring gratitude, but rather a new round of moral kidnapping.

Dad was silent for a very long time. Eventually, as if making up his mind, he threw that unopened box of cigarettes into the trash can.

He stood up, walked to my side, and touched my short hair, which had already grown a bit longer, his eyes filled with relief and pride.

"Nina, you’ve grown up," he said. "You’re right. Your mom and I thought too simply. Let this matter end here. From now on, things in our family—I’ll listen to you."

At that moment, I felt I was no longer the child who needed protection, but the new backbone of this family. I used my calmness and decisiveness to build a solid firewall for our home, insulating it from all the trouble and harm that might otherwise spread our way.

As for the fire at the Miller house, what they would burn themselves into was no longer my concern. They would have to learn what a price is within the ashes they had created with their own hands.