On the long-distance bus, Han Doudou looked at the destination on her ticket and frowned. “I remember Great-Aunt’s house is in Jian’an County. She brought Wang Yurui to our house once. That girl was incredibly naughty—she broke my crystal doll, hid the pieces under the bed, and didn’t tell me. She even tore my workbook before she left. Her visit was a disaster.”
Her voice was full of resentment. Even after all these years, the mention of her younger cousin triggered a defensive, angry reaction.
“How old was she then, and how old were you?” Han Ze asked calmly.
“I was in sixth grade, and she was about to start first grade,” Han Doudou replied.
Han Ze’s voice deepened. “She was six, and you were twelve. Why can’t you forgive a child six years younger than you for an accident? You’re still holding a grudge years later? Perhaps she already regrets what she did.”
“It wasn’t an accident; she was intentional!” Han Doudou pouted. “A six-year-old who hides broken things to avoid trouble has more schemes than stars in the sky.”
Han Ze sighed. “I believe she didn’t break your doll on purpose. Hiding it was wrong, yes, but have you never done something wrong and lied to me to avoid a scolding?”
Han Doudou went silent. She had indeed lied to her father many times for the same reason.
“Did I forgive you?” Han Ze asked. Han Doudou turned red and kept her mouth shut. “I can forgive you, so why can’t you forgive Wang Yurui? She was a small child who didn’t know better. Maybe she’s changed.”
Han Ze then shifted the conversation. “You think she’s annoying, but sometimes, I find you quite annoying too.”
Han Doudou looked at him, offended.
“You love games, hate studying, and obsess over clothes. Last week it was shoes, this week it’s 1,600 yuan for a concert. I only earn a few thousand a month, and you’re constantly demanding things.”
Han Doudou lowered her head.
Han Ze continued, his voice heavy. “Sometimes, seeing you want things so badly that you cry makes me feel terrible. I want to give them to you, but I don’t have the ability. In those moments, I feel guilty… even inferior. I hate that I’m not as capable as other parents who can provide a wealthy life for their daughters.”
Inferiority? The word struck Han Doudou like a bolt of lightning. She looked at her father in shock.
“I push you to study not for my vanity, but because I want you to have more choices in the future. I don’t want you to ever feel the inferiority and regret that I feel.”
Han Doudou’s tears began to fall. As Han Ze apologized for not “cultivating her character” better when she was younger, Han Doudou started sobbing. The realization that her thoughtless demands were hurting her father’s self-esteem was a wake-up call.
“I… I was wrong too,” she whispered through her tears. “I’ll call Xu Yining tonight. I’m not going to the concert. 1,600 yuan is enough for my entire month’s expenses.”
Han Ze then told her a story from his army days about a wealthy friend who owned a watch worth hundreds of thousands of yuan. Han Ze explained that he initially refused to hang out with the man because he couldn’t afford to “reciprocate” the expensive dinners.
“Eventually, he traded his luxury watch for a cheap one and started bringing me simple street BBQ,” Han Ze said. “He told me that if we were friends, we should share the same standard of living. He didn’t want his wealth to make me feel uncomfortable.”
He looked at Han Doudou significantly. “You and Xu Yining are ‘best friends,’ yet she constantly shows off her luxury purchases in front of you. A true friend knows that flaunting wealth creates pressure. I want you to have friends who respect your reality, not those who make you feel inferior.”
Han Doudou felt a seed of doubt planted in her mind about Xu Yining. Was Yining really “unaware” that her bragging hurt Han Doudou, or was it intentional?
They arrived at a modest two-story house in the countryside. They were greeted by Wang Yurui. Instead of the “naughty brat” Han Doudou remembered, she saw a thin, tanned girl with dark skin.
“Why are you so dark?” Han Doudou asked bluntly.
“I work in the fields every day,” Wang Yurui laughed. “You can’t hold a sun umbrella while you’re picking peanuts!”
Han Doudou was stunned. “Don’t you have to go to school and do homework?”
“The teacher doesn’t give too much homework,” Wang Yurui explained. “I finish it at night. And when I’m picking peanuts, I recite my textbooks out loud to save time.”
Han Doudou felt a wave of shame. While she complained about studying in an air-conditioned room, her younger cousin was laboring in the sun and using that time to memorize lessons.
When it was time for dinner, Wang Yurui invited Han Doudou to help “light the fire” for the stove. Han Doudou had to admit she didn’t know how. Wang Yurui, at twelve, was already cooking full meals because her grandmother was recovering from surgery and her mother was away working to pay off medical debts.
“Is the schoolwork hard?” Han Doudou asked.
“Not really,” Wang Yurui said. “I get 100 in Math and 99 in Chinese. I lose a point on essays sometimes because I don’t have money for extra tutoring, but my teacher borrows books from the town library for me so I can improve my vocabulary.”
Han Doudou was speechless. She had every resource—tutors, books, a father who did everything for her—yet she was failing. Wang Yurui had nothing, yet she excelled.
After dinner, Han Doudou voluntarily washed the dishes. Then, in front of Han Ze, she called Xu Yining.
“Yining, I’m sorry. I’m at my Great-Aunt’s house and I can’t go to the concert tomorrow.”
Xu Yining’s voice turned cold and accusatory. “Why are you telling me? You made the deal with Pan Hao. It’s quite rude to break a promise over a ‘cheap’ ticket.”
Han Doudou gripped the phone. “You’re right. I won’t do it again. In fact, I don’t think I’ll be going to any more concerts. I have to go now. Bye.”
She hung up. In that moment, Han Doudou felt a shift. She didn’t need the 1,600 yuan ticket to feel happy; she needed to be a person her father could be proud of.
Sam Williams On TYMIMA Chapter 152