A week later, I was working overtime when I got a call from an unfamiliar Seahaven number.

"Hello?"

"Evan. It's me."

It was my dad, Tom Clark.

He sounded tired.

I stayed silent.

"Are you really going this far? Won't you even answer our calls?"

"What do you want?" I asked.

"Your mom is sick. She has high blood pressure. She's in the hospital."

My heart sank, but it soon grew cold. "Is it serious?"

"The doctor says she needs to stay for observation." He paused before adding in a commanding tone, "Go on leave. Come back for a while."

"I'm busy. I can't."

"Is work more important than your mother?" He raised his voice.

"Yes," I said calmly. "Because I can't rely on my mother. I can only rely on my job."

I could hear his breathing grow heavy. I knew he was upset.

"Evan, you've grown wings, haven't you? Are you abandoning your parents over some money?"

"Dad, that's not just some money. That's 600 grand." I corrected him. "That was my chance to build a life in Seahaven, and you ruined it."

"That was our money! We can give it to whoever we want!" he roared.

"Exactly." I nodded. "So my time and energy belong to me. I'll give them to whoever I want. Right now, I choose my work."

"You–" He was so upset he couldn't say a word.

"Mom's in the hospital. You're there, aren't you? What about your precious nephew? He just received 600 grand from you. Shouldn't he show some filial piety?"

"You ungrateful brat!" He yelled.

"Dad, let me do the math for you," I cut him off.

"I make four grand a month. One day off costs me about 300 bucks with deductions and bonuses. Round-trip train tickets cost over a grand. Add time lost, one trip back costs me at least 1,500 bucks."

He didn't say anything, but I could hear his breathing grow heavier.

"Insurance covers most of mom's hospital bills. You'll pay a few hundred bucks at most. Don't you still have 300 grand saved for retirement? Is it that hard to spend a few hundred bucks on her treatment?"

He gasped. "How do you know we still have 300 grand?"

That sentence got rid of the last bit of warmth in me.

"So you do have 300 grand left."

I laughed coldly. "Last week, Edith told me you spent everything on Logan's new house and barely had anything left from your retirement fund. I almost believed her."

They weren't dumb. They kept a safety net.

It just never included me.

"You had 900 grand. You gave 600 grand to Logan and kept 300 grand for yourselves. I'm your son, but I couldn't even borrow 150 grand from you," I said each word firmly. "Dad, what are your hearts even made of?"

There was a long silence.

"Evan–" He seemed to want to explain.

"Don't bother." I cut him off. "You have 300 grand for Mom's treatment. You have time to look after her too. Logan has time as well. Whether I go back or not doesn't matter."

"Are you really not coming back?" he asked in disbelief.

"I'm not," I said. "Take care."

I hung up and blocked the new number too.

The office lights were harsh and made me look like a ghost.

I slumped over my desk, and my shoulders shook uncontrollably.

It turned out I really did mean nothing to them.

They'd rather spend their money on outsiders or save it up for themselves than give a cent to me.

That was fine.

It just made it easier for me to walk away completely. I had no regrets.

Two weeks later, Logan's wedding was held at the most luxurious hotel in our hometown.

It was extravagant. The wedding convoy alone was filled with Mercedes and BMWs, and the lead car was a red Ferrari.

The photos and videos flooded every family group chat.

Although I had already left those groups, there were always a couple of 'kind-hearted' distant cousins who sent me screenshots privately.

[Evan, look how impressive Logan is! Your parents really outdid themselves. They must be so proud!]

[Evan, why didn't you come back for the wedding? This was a big deal!]

I looked at the photos. At the main table, my parents were glowing with pride. They smiled brighter than the groom's own parents.

They were the center of attention. People kept coming over to toast them. Everyone praised them for being generous. They were like role models in the family.

I deleted every message with a blank expression.

The day after the wedding, I got a call from my grandfather, Gerald Clark.

He was the only one in the family I felt was reasonable.

"Evan, are you still mad at your parents?"

"Grandpa." My voice softened.

"You didn't come back for the wedding yesterday. Your parents were embarrassed." He sighed. "Relatives kept asking. They had to say you were busy with a project in Seahaven."

"I am busy."

"I know." He paused. "I heard from Edith that Ruby broke up with you. Is that true?"

"Yeah."

"What a shame. She was a good girl."

He sighed again. "Evan, I know you're angry. What your parents did was wrong. They ignored their own son just to play the big shot for others."

My eyes welled up with tears when I heard the word 'wrong.' For the first time since everything happened, someone in the family was on my side.

"Grandpa, I'm fine."

"I know you're stubborn," he said. "I know your dad very well. He cares too much about appearances. He thinks since your uncle died early, it's his responsibility as the older brother. Now that your cousin got married, making it grand was his way of honoring your uncle and gaining recognition from other relatives."

"So for his pride, my happiness is expendable?"

"He didn't think that far," Grandpa said. "He's stubborn. Honestly, I think your mom and your aunt influenced him behind the scenes."

"It doesn't matter," I said. "What's done is done."

"Yesterday, your parents got drunk at the banquet. They even bragged to me. They said everyone respects them now, and that they're the pillar of the Clark family."

Grandpa's tone carried a hint of disdain. "I scolded him. I told him he was putting out fires for others while his own house burned down."

I said nothing and just listened.

"Your dad's expression turned dark. He said I didn't understand him." Grandpa paused. "Evan, don't stay angry forever. Money can be earned again. But family? Once it's gone, it's gone."

"Grandpa, I'm not angry. I've just figured things out."

"What did you figure out?"

"That relying on myself is better than relying on anyone else. I'll buy my own house. I'll get married with my own funds. As for them, they've got their precious nephew to take care of them."

"You–"

"Grandpa, don't worry. I'm doing fine. Once I buy a place, I'll bring you to Seahaven."

"Alright, alright." His voice softened with relief.

After hanging up, I stared out the window.

Seahaven's night was still bustling with activity. I knew from now on, I'd have to walk this road alone.

I switched on my laptop and sent a proposal I had just finished to my supervisor. At the end of the email, I added a few more sentences.

[Mr. Warren, if there are overseas assignments in Faricia or Zionia, please consider me first. I'm not concerned about hardship as long as the allowance is high.]

He replied quickly.

[Evan, are you crazy?]

[I'm not crazy. I'm just trying to make some money.]

To save up for the down payment as quickly as possible, my life turned into something close to self-torture.

I moved out of my rental in Mirnivia to Skyren, a rundown place that required a 20-minute ride by bicycle just to reach the subway. My rent dropped from 650 bucks to 300 bucks.

My daily commute stretched from an hour and a half to three hours.

I woke up at half past five each morning and got home at ten in the evening.

I cut out every unnecessary expense, including coffee, dining out, movies, and new clothes.

Breakfast was two buns from a street stall. Lunch was the cheapest set at the company cafeteria. Dinner was usually discounted ready-made food from the supermarket after work.

I started taking on freelance work like crazy. Weekends and nights were spent doing project proposals and industry reports for small companies. Each job paid a couple of hundred. It was exhausting, but money came fast.

In three months, I lost 20 pounds. I looked gaunt with hollow eyes and pale skin. My coworkers joked that I looked like I'd been abducted by aliens for experiments.

Only I knew that I was trading my life for money.

The figure in my bank account climbed slowly but steadily.

It went from 115 grand to 120 grand and then to 130 grand. Every extra 1,500 bucks felt like a step closer to my goal.

During this period, my parents tried to reach me through relatives.

Aunt Selvy said, "Evan, your mom cries every day. She misses you."

I replied, "Then video call me. Oh wait. I forgot. I blocked her."

Uncle William said, "Your dad's blood pressure has been high lately. Keep this up, and you'll kill them both."

I replied, "They've got 300 grand saved and a nephew who received 600 grand from them. They'll survive."

Logan even called once. His tone carried a mix of smugness and fake concern.

"Evan, I heard things have been tough lately. Do you need help? My wife gave me 45 grand after the wedding. I've got money to spare."

"No."

"Come on, don't blame your parents. They just care about me. How about this? I'll send you 300 bucks a month for living expenses. Consider it support from your dear old cousin." He sounded like he was talking to a beggar on the street.

I laughed. "Logan, how's that 600 grand treating you? Enjoying the Ferrari? Is the big house comfortable?"

He was stunned. "Evan, what do you mean by that?"

"Nothing. Don't worry about me. Save your money for my parents' retirement. After all, you're their most successful investment."

I hung up before blocking him and his wife too.

At the end of the year, the company held its annual dinner.

Thanks to my outstanding performance, I won the top sales title. The bonus was 45 grand.

On stage, my supervisor gave me the award and told me to deliver my acceptance speech.

I picked up the mic and looked at my hundreds of colleagues off-stage. My mind went blank.

"I'd like to thank the company, my supervisor, and my team–" I mentioned all the usual things one was supposed to say during such speeches.

In my mind, I was thinking, 'With the 45 grand, plus my savings and freelance income, I have 205 grand in total. I still need 60 grand.'

Suddenly, I saw Ruby Lawrence in the crowd.

As a former employee, she had been invited to the annual dinner too.

She had on a beautiful evening gown and intricate makeup. She was talking and laughing with a well-dressed man beside her.

Our eyes met briefly.

There was a look of surprise in hers and something else I couldn't quite place.

I nodded politely and looked away.

At that moment, I felt nothing.

After the annual dinner, everyone went to a karaoke place.

I didn't go. I walked home alone.

My phone rang. It was Ruby.

"Evan, congratulations."

"Thanks."

"You've lost a lot of weight."

"I'm fine."

"I heard about your family and how hard you've been pushing yourself."

"Yeah."

She was silent for a while. "Evan, can we go back to how things were?"

I stopped walking and stared at my blurry reflection in a shop window.

The man staring back looked thin and worn, but there was an indescribable look of determination in his eyes.

"Ruby, we can't go back," I said calmly.

"Why? Weren't you working hard for our future? You got the bonus now. You almost have enough for the down payment–"

I cut her off. "That was in the past. Now, I'm doing it for myself."

She didn't say anything else.

"I wish you happiness," I said and hung up.

That night, I had a dream.

In that dream, Ruby and I were back in college. We were walking on the track field.

She asked where I wanted to settle down in the future.

I said 'Seahaven. I want to build you a home there.'

I woke up from the dream. The spot next to me was cold.

I opened my banking app and looked at the figure.

[205 grand.]

I was almost there.