My husband came home from work and handed me an exquisite gift box. Inside were two bottles of Moutai.

"New Year's is coming up. Take two bottles of good liquor to Dad."

I smiled and took it, my heart warm.

Married for three years, this was the first time Ryan had ever taken the initiative to buy something for my dad.

Carrying the gift box, I walked to the garage and realized I hadn't brought the keys.

When I went back to the door, before I could even knock, I heard Susan Lambert's voice:

"You really bought Moutai for her dad? Do you have so much money you don't know where to spend it? Will her dad, that poor hick, even know how to drink it?"

My steps paused.

I heard my husband laugh. "How could that be? The bottles were empties my boss threw away. I filled them with bulk white liquor from the supermarket—eighteen bucks a pound. Her dad is just a farmer. What good stuff does he deserve?"

Mrs. Lambert's voice immediately softened. "My son is smart! You know how to live!"

After a long silence, I turned around and went back to the car.

Rubbing the gift box at my side, I curled my lip and sent my husband a message.

Sweetheart, guess what? The Moutai you just gave me—when I opened it and scanned the code, I won five million…

——

A few seconds later, Ryan's call came straight back.

His voice had a tremble he couldn't suppress. "Joy… what does that message mean?"

I held the phone, the corner of my mouth lifting soundlessly, and put on an act like I was too excited to speak coherently.

"Honey! It's those two bottles of Moutai you gave me! You know that open-the-cap-and-scan promotion? I just casually scanned it in the car. Oh my God… it showed I won the grand prize! Five million! It's really five million!"

From the other end came the sound of him sucking in a breath, followed by a clatter of something getting knocked over.

"You… you're sure you didn't see it wrong?" Ryan's breathing grew heavy.

I sent him the picture I'd photoshopped minutes ago.

"I confirmed it over and over. It says it clearly: Grand Prize, five million in cash. On the first of next month we can go claim it!"

"Joy, wait… wait…"

I could almost imagine how flustered he was right now.

"Where are you? The liquor—do you have it?"

"Yes. The gift box is sitting on my passenger seat."

I kept provoking him. "With this money, can the plan we talked about before—bringing my mom and dad over to live with us—become real? We can make a down payment on a four-bedroom place, so that…"

Before I could finish, I faintly heard my mother-in-law's voice, deliberately lowered.

"Bring them over? She's dreaming! That's our family's money. We absolutely can't let her call the shots!"

Ryan seemed to cover the receiver. After a rustling sound, his voice returned.

"Joy, did you tell anyone else about this? Do your mom and dad know?"

The fish took the bait.

I sneered inside.

"No! You're the first one I told! My dad can barely use a cellphone—how could I tell him this? Don't scare him."

"Yes, yes… don't say anything yet, don't tell anyone!"

Ryan agreed repeatedly, switching to a hypocritical tone like he was thinking of me. "What I mean is… this is a huge surprise. We have to pick the right time and tell Mom and Dad properly, right?"

"Mm, you're right."

I answered obediently, my fingers lightly tapping the steering wheel.

Ryan seemed to let out a breath, coughed lightly, and spoke again. "Joy, this is too big. We can't hash this out over the phone. Where are you right now? Hurry home. We'll talk face to face."

He coaxed me like he always did.

Facing the pitch-black night outside the car window, I silently tugged at the corner of my mouth.

"Got it," I answered obediently. "Then I'll head back now."

After hanging up, I picked up the exquisite gift box on the passenger seat.

Bulk liquor at eighteen dollars a pound, poured into a bottle worth a fortune, instead became the fishhook that could reel them in.

The real show had only just begun.

The car pulled into the underground garage of the apartment complex. The moment I opened the door, Ryan's face arranged itself into a stiff smile.

"Joy, you're back?"

I changed into slippers and walked into the living room like nothing was wrong. Ryan and his mother sat side by side on the couch, their eyes locked on my empty hands.

"Joy, where are those two bottles of liquor?"

Ryan couldn't wait—he stood up, his gaze searching behind me.

"I left them in the car." I said it lightly. "Something that expensive—carrying it up and down, I was afraid I'd accidentally bump it. Anyway, it's the underground garage, and the car's locked. Safe enough."

Mother and son exchanged a quick look.

Mrs. Lambert pulled out a fake smile and scooted closer toward me. "Joy, well, um, winning a prize is a huge deal. How are you planning to use this money?"

Here it comes.

I lifted my eyes and met her flickering gaze. "How to use it? Wasn't it planned ages ago? Buy a bigger place and bring my mom and dad over so we can all live together."

Her fake smile froze instantly, and her voice shot up. "Buy a place and bring your parents over? No! Absolutely not!"

"Mom, what are you saying?" I frowned slightly. "What is there to disagree with? A bigger place, my parents here to enjoy their retirement—it won't affect you. Isn't that a good thing? Ryan and I agreed on this a long time ago."

"Agreed on what!"

Mrs. Lambert waved her hand dismissively. "This liquor was bought with my son's money! The prize money belongs to him—to the Lyons family! We decide how to use it!"

"What does this money have to do with your parents? Bringing them here to live—no way!"

Her words were like knives, fast and vicious.

I turned to Ryan. He was staring at the floor, refusing to meet my eyes.

"Ryan, say something."

I called his name.

"Didn't we plan this together? Save up, buy a place, bring my parents over? Didn't we open a special home-buying fund and deposit money into it every month? You agreed to all of this. You planned it with me."

His body stiffened. His head drooped even lower; his Adam's apple bobbed, but no sound came out.

After hearing this, Mrs. Lambert only grew more aggressive.

"What home-buying fund? That's just you two playing house! Can that be taken seriously? Besides—"

She shot me a sidelong look, the corner of her mouth twisting into an ugly sneer.

"Your dad and your mom—what kind of people are they? Country folks who farm, reeking of dirt. If they came to the city, could they even adjust?"

"Not to mention their habits, their limited worldview—how could that ever match ours? Why should they live with us? It'd be chaos every single day, the whole household turned upside down! The Lyons family can't afford that kind of embarrassment!"

Every word stabbed straight into my chest.

"My parents are farmers. They make a living with their own hands—honest work, not stealing, not scheming." I spoke slowly, deliberately. "They raised me, paid for my schooling, never shortchanged me. Never shortchanged Ryan either. If you look down on them, you're looking down on me."

"Don't try to use that kind of talk to pressure me!"

Mrs. Lambert slapped the armrest and cut me off.

"So what if I look down on them? What I said is the truth!"

"This liquor was bought by my son, and this five million dollars will definitely be handled by my son!"

"Give it to your mom and dad? That's like throwing meat to a dog—gone forever!"

"Enough!"

I raised my voice. My chest heaved with anger, my gaze locked onto the man who'd been silent the whole time.

"Ryan, you're just going to sit there? Your mom talks about my parents like that, and you don't say a word? Our plan, our promises—what do they even mean to you?"

Ryan had nowhere left to hide. He finally lifted his head, his face twisted into something ugly—the look of a man ready to burn it all down.

"Joy… what Mom said… isn't completely wrong. This money came out of nowhere. Our original plan… maybe it really does need some adjustments."

"Adjustments?" I sneered. "Which part? The part where we bring my parents here, or the part where we buy a house?"

Ryan opened his mouth. Before he could speak, Mrs. Lambert jumped in.

"All of it! I'm telling you right now, Joy—don't even think about buying a house…"

She shot Ryan a pointed look.

"Ryan, tell her! Tell her whether that so-called house fund even exists anymore!"

My mind went blank.

Ryan's face cycled through pale and green. His lips moved a few times.

"Joy… the house fund we saved… I had an emergency a while back, so I already… diverted it."

One light sentence.

The last shred of hope shattered with it.

So all those promises about our future had never weighed more than a feather to him.

I looked at this mother and son—one vicious and smug, one spineless and fake.

They took my contributions for granted while grinding the family I loved into the dirt.

On one hand, they brushed off my parents with counterfeit liquor. On the other, they helped themselves to my savings.

And now, facing a fabricated five million dollars, they revealed their true colors—pure, ugly greed.

So this was how rotten the human heart could get.

My voice came out surprisingly calm.

"What emergency? Your dear cousin's gambling debts again? Or did your mom see some new gold bracelet she just had to have?"

"Joy! How can you say that!"

Ryan shot to his feet like I'd stabbed a nerve, his face flushing red.

"Am I wrong?"

I stepped forward, staring him down.

"Ryan, explain it to me. Most of that money was earned by me—what gave you the right to touch it? Where did it go?"

Mrs. Lambert sprang up, hands on her hips, all pretense gone. She jabbed a finger at my face.

"You married into this family, so you belong to the Lyons family! Every penny you earn is ours! A married daughter is water poured out—gone! Don't you dare side with outsiders!"

"And that five million? Forget about it! My son bought that liquor, so the prize belongs to us! Just try and touch it!"

"Liquor your son bought?"

I was so furious I laughed.

"Want me to remind you what was actually in those two bottles of 'Moutai'? Want me to repeat what you said at the door?"

Mrs. Lambert's face went white.

"You… you were eavesdropping? Fine, Joy! So now you've learned to spy at doorways!"

She spat on the floor, then kept right on pointing at my face and shouting like nothing had happened.