"Hello, I need to check a marriage registration record."

"Whose record?"

"Beth." I provided her ID number.

"What is your relationship to her?"

"Mother and daughter."

The staff member searched the computer for a few minutes and handed me a printed sheet.

Beth, registered marriage to Jiang Yuanzheng in 2002.

Jiang Yuanzheng died in the line of duty in 2005.

2006—

My eyes locked onto the third line.

In March 2006, Beth registered a marriage to Gary.

My father died in September 2004.

That meant, just a year and a half after my father passed away, she had remarried.

I already knew this.

But there was another line below it.

Marriage application note: Applicant Beth submitted a widowed remarriage application in January 2006, approved the same month.

Submitted in January, registered in March.

And the first pension payment from my father’s death had arrived in February 2005.

In other words—less than a year after receiving the pension, she was already preparing to remarry.

I stared at that piece of paper for a long time.

Suddenly, I remembered something.

When I was little and at the Gary residence, there was a time Beth was talking to Auntie Liu in the kitchen, thinking I couldn't hear them from my room.

Auntie Liu asked: "Why are you getting remarried so soon? Yuanzheng has only been gone for a year."

Beth replied: "What else am I supposed to do? A woman with a child—how else am I going to survive? Gary has a house and a business; isn't it better to have someone to rely on?"

Auntie Liu asked: "But what about Yuanzheng’s pension? That was quite a sum."

Beth was silent for a moment.

"That money, spend it where it needs to be spent."

I was nine then, curled up behind the storage room door, and I memorized that conversation word for word.

Spend it where it needs to be spent.

Spent on whom? Used where?

I folded the paper and tucked it into my bag.

After leaving the Civil Affairs Bureau, I went straight to the Veterans Affairs Bureau.

Detailed records of pension distribution could be found here.

The person who received me was a woman in her forties named He. When she heard the name I gave, she paused.

"Jiang Yuanzheng... are you Jiang Yuanzheng’s daughter?"

"I am."

She looked at me for a few seconds and pulled a file from the cabinet.

"This record is quite complete." She flipped through a few pages. "A lump-sum pension of 180,000, issued in February 2005. A regular monthly care subsidy of 850 yuan, issued from 2005 until the beneficiary turns eighteen. What year did you turn eighteen?"

"2015."

"That makes ten years and a few months from 2005 to 2015, totaling about 102,000. Additionally, there was a child education subsidy, 6,000 yuan per year, also until eighteen, totaling about 66,000."

"Adding it all up—"

"Around 348,000. Plus the resettlement apartment."

My previous estimate of 520,000 was off, but 340,000 plus a house was still a massive sum.

Officer He closed the file and looked at me.

"The recipient field for these funds lists your mother, Beth. But according to regulations, the primary purpose of pensions and subsidies is to ensure the living and education of the martyr's survivors."

"I know."

"You coming to check these—have you run into some kind of problem?"

"My mother spent all of this money on herself and her remarried family. From age seven to fourteen, I was beaten and scolded in my stepfather’s home, treated like a servant, never had a new set of clothes, and never received a penny of educational investment."

Officer He’s expression shifted.

"Are you sure?"

"I am. I have already retained a lawyer and am preparing to sue to recover the occupied property and misappropriated pension."

Officer He was silent for a long while.

"If you need it, our bureau can issue a statement on the distribution and usage of the pension to serve as supporting documentation for your lawsuit."

"Thank you, Officer He."

She stood up and took another photo from the archive shelf.

"Have you seen this before?"

I took it.

It was a faded old photo.

The photo showed a young soldier in training fatigues, smiling brightly. In his arms, he was holding a three- or four-year-old girl; the little girl was also laughing, her two front teeth not yet fully grown.

It was me and my father.

I had never seen this photo.

"A comrade of your father’s sent this in for the archives back then. If you want it, I can make a copy for you."

I held the photo, my fingertips tingling.

The little girl in the photo, held by her father, was laughing so happily.

She didn't know her father would leave forever a year later.

Nor did she know her mother would push her into another hell two years after that.

"Thank you."

My voice was very soft.

I carefully tucked the photo into my bag and walked out of the Veterans Affairs Bureau.

As I reached the entrance, my phone rang.

It was my lawyer, Sienna.

"Nora, the court has accepted the property dispute case. Also, I discovered a new development during the investigation."

"What?"

"The mortgage on the house in Gary’s name, the 300,000, matured last year. He didn't pay it off, so the bank started foreclosure proceedings. But someone helped him pay 150,000 to temporarily halt the auction."

"Who helped him pay?"

"You’ll never guess—it was your second uncle, Zhao Jianguo."

Chapter 12

My second uncle helped Gary pay his debts.

This fact pierced my brain like a thorn.

I sat in the car, turning this information over in my mind three times.

My second uncle, Zhao Jianguo, my mother’s own younger brother, ran a small grocery store in town; his financial situation was average.

Where did he get the money to help Gary pay 150,000?

More importantly—why did he help?

I called Sienna back: "Attorney Sienna, can you trace the source of that 150,000?"

"I did. It was transferred from Zhao Jianguo’s account, but three days before the transfer, his account received an equal amount."

"Who sent it to him?"

"A man named Zhou Dafu."

I didn't recognize the name.

"Who is Zhou Dafu?"

"I looked into it. Zhou Dafu is a small local developer. He has an urban renewal project in that area in the east of the city, and guess what—"

"He has his eyes on the land where the military family compound is."

"Exactly. If those old houses are demolished, based on current land value estimates, the compensation won't be less than 15,000 per square meter. Your father’s 75-square-meter apartment would get at least 1.1 million in compensation."

I suddenly understood everything.

Gary transferred the house into his own name not just to live in, and not just to mortgage it for a loan.

He was waiting for the demolition.

If that area was demolished, over a million in compensation would fall right into his pockets.

And that Zhou Dafu, seeing that Gary was short on cash, bought his allegiance with 150,000 early on to ensure there would be no obstacles when the time came for demolition.

My second uncle played the bridge in the middle.

The resettlement house that a soldier traded his life for was treated as a business deal by them.

My hands gripped the steering wheel so hard they turned white.

This wasn't just about a steamed bun.

This wasn't just about child abuse.

From beginning to end, this was a carefully designed plunder.

Beth didn't marry Gary to find someone to rely on.

She did it because Gary had his eyes on that house and that pension.

And Beth needed a man to "legitimately" use those assets for her.

They were partners.

And I was the target being plundered.

Back at the shop, I locked the door and sat alone for a long time.

When Lu knocked and came in, I had already calmed down.

"Nora, Grandma C called to ask if you’re coming home for dinner tonight."

"I am."

"Also, Cole said there’s an investor banquet tomorrow morning. You’re the head chef, and he’s already sent you the menu."

"Fine."

"And—"

"And what?"

"Your second uncle is here. He’s waiting at the door."

I was silent for two seconds.

"Let him in."

When my second uncle, Zhao Jianguo, walked in, he was completely different from last time.

Last time, he was dragged here by Auntie Liu, legs crossed, acting like a judge.

This time, he kept his head down, clutching a plastic bag containing a few apples.

"Nora." He stood at the door, not daring to step inside.

"Sit."

He sat down and placed the apples on the table.

"Nora, there are some things... I have to tell you the truth."

"Go ahead."

"I was indeed involved in the matter of that house."

I didn't speak.

"When Gary came to me, he said that since nobody lived in the house anyway, he might as well live there. Your mother agreed. Later, when he used it for a mortgage loan, I knew about it too."