When I first saw Emma, she appeared to be the most ordinary person, with dark, rough skin and a small frame.

Her weathered face still showed signs of past beauty.

As soon as we met, she held my hand tightly, tearful with gratitude.

"Ava, if it weren't for you, James and I would probably be homeless now."

However, her son, James, wasn't very likable.

He had a round, puffy face, wide-set triangular eyes, a flat nose, and a dull gaze.

Even after entering the house, he didn't say a word for a long time.

Following my prior instructions, Nina warmly greeted James, inviting him to play with toys.

But James just stared blankly, showing no response.

Next to me, Jeremy furrowed his brow, his expression darker than I'd ever seen.

I arranged a month-long leisure trip for my mother-in-law and her friends, and they set off the next day.

She explained all the household chores to Emma, who quickly adapted and worked hard.

By the end of the afternoon, the house was tidy, and the dining table was set with six dishes and a soup, looking delicious.

Nina, ever the enthusiastic cheerleader, exclaimed, "Auntie Emma's food looks so fragrant!"

For a moment, I thought we had made the right choice with this nanny.

But what happened next left us all dumbfounded.

As we sat at the dinner table, nobody had touched their chopsticks when James suddenly grabbed a handful of corn nuts and stuffed them into his mouth.

Then, he plunged his dirty hand into the rib soup, fishing out goji berries one by one.

Throughout this, Emma merely gave her son a token admonition, continuing to watch him affectionately.

We were all too embarrassed to say anything, but Jeremy slammed the table. "Emma, how are you raising this child? This is such bad behavior; he's going to suffer for it later!"

Emma finally looked a bit awkward. "James has been spoiled by his grandparents. I can't control him; he was quite well-behaved in kindergarten back in town, but now, there's just no discipline."

Jeremy looked disgusted. "I'll find him a kindergarten soon, and in the meantime, I'll take some time after work each day to teach him properly; this is unacceptable!"

From that day on, Jeremy's first action upon coming home was no longer to kiss and hug Nina or read storybooks with her.

Instead, he took out the early childhood education materials and behavioral habit books he had meticulously prepared during the day to teach James.

But this child was simply not bright; even simple knowledge had to be repeated many times before he grasped it.

Our home, which used to be filled with laughter and joy, was now replaced by Jeremy's harsh reprimands aimed at James.

Emma kept bustling in and out of the study, busy with chores.

If I assigned her anything, she would ignore me, focusing entirely on Jeremy and James.

One moment she'd be serving tea, the next bringing fruit, happily attending to the two of them.

It seemed like they were a family of three.

Back in my room, I tried hard to lift my spirits and cheer Nina up, hoping she wouldn't be affected by the earlier events.

She played and cried today and was very tired, quickly drifting off to sleep.

I loved watching her little face when she was fast asleep, chubby and cute, always filling me with endless happiness.

But today, looking at her sleeping face, I felt a weight in my heart, making it hard to breathe.

Late into the night, I could still hear Jeremy teaching James in the study, punctuated by occasional thuds and shouting.

When Jeremy and I were dating, his patience and emotional stability attracted me the most.

My parents were in business abroad and had entrusted me to relatives, seldom returning home.

I had long grown accustomed to living independently, feeling as though there was nothing I couldn't handle on my own.

In my sophomore year, during a New Year's Eve gala, I was the lead dancer, but before going on stage, someone intentionally bumped into me and twisted my ankle.

I performed through the pain, surrounded by applause and flowers, but only Jeremy noticed my injury.

On that cold, snowy night, he carried me step by step to the school gate, turning to say softly, "If you ever feel wronged, don't hold it in; I'm here for you."

But now, the grievances of me and my daughter felt trivial compared to the "children's issues" in someone else's house.

How much longer must we endure these days?