Ficorpio
Chapter 1
Chapter 1
My mother gave all five million yuan of the redevelopment compensation to my eldest sister.
The reason was simple.
“Your sister’s divorced. Raising a child on her own isn’t easy.”
I didn’t get a choice. All I could do was nod.
“Ethan, say something.”
My mother slapped the bank card down on the table. It struck the stainless-steel surface with a sharp, metallic crack.
That was the redevelopment payout card. Five million sat on it—the compensation for our family’s old house.
I didn’t speak. I kept my head lowered, looking at my phone.
On the screen was a post Vanessa had put on her social feed three days ago: nine glossy photos. A brand-new Hermès bag. A Cartier bracelet. A selfie of her smiling in the Maldives. The location tag read Conrad Maldives. The caption said: Finally living for myself for once.
“Your sister has had a hard life.” My mother’s voice started to thicken with tears. “That animal she married beat her, gambled, and left her with nothing when they divorced. And now Benji’s been diagnosed with a congenital heart condition. The surgery alone will cost three hundred thousand…”
“Mom…” Vanessa sniffled on cue, her eyes turning red almost instantly. “Benji had a fever again yesterday. The doctor said if he doesn’t get surgery soon…”
She was wearing a Chanel jacket.
I recognized the style. Forty-eight thousand on the official site.
“Ethan, you’re the youngest,” my father finally said. He was sitting in the corner of the sofa, rolling an unlit cigarette between his fingers. “You can see how hard things are for your sister, trying to raise a child alone. You’re not married. You only have yourself to support. It’s different for her. She has to think about her son’s future.”
“Exactly, third brother,” Ryan cut in. He’d just graduated this year and landed an office job at a state-owned company. “You make such a high salary. Why would you care about a little money like this?”
“Third brother dotes on Vanessa the most anyway,” Lily added without even looking up from her phone. She was busy scrolling short videos. “It’s not like you spend much on yourself.”
I put my phone away and looked up.
Everyone was staring at me.
My mother’s expectation. Vanessa’s tension. My father’s evasive silence. My younger brother and sister’s careless indifference.
“Fine,” I said.
My mother froze, like she hadn’t expected it to go this smoothly. “Y-you agree?”
“I agree.” I stood. “The money is Vanessa’s. She really does have it hard.”
Vanessa broke into a smile through her fake tears and came toward me, reaching for my hand. “Ethan, I knew you were the most understanding—”
Chapter 2
Chapter 2
I stepped aside before she could touch me and picked up my coat. “I still have work to do. I’m leaving.”
“Are you coming back for dinner tonight?”
“No. I’m working late.”
I walked out of the apartment.
The motion-sensor light in the hallway flicked on above me. I stood there in the cold white glow and listened to my mother let out a long breath of relief from inside. I heard Vanessa start talking about what school district apartment she should buy. Then Ryan laughed and said, “If we’d known Ethan would give in this easily, we wouldn’t have had to put on a whole performance.”
I took out my phone and opened my photo album.
There were more than a dozen images saved inside.
Vanessa and her “ex-husband” in Sanya last month, arms around each other, smiling sweetly at the camera.
Luxury store receipts with her name on them.
And one video, filmed in a karaoke club, where she was showing off to her friends with a drink in her hand.
“My mom’s such an old fool. She believes anything I tell her. Once the redevelopment compensation comes through, I can make up any excuse I want and take the whole thing.”
The video had been recorded two weeks earlier.
I slipped my phone back into my pocket and headed downstairs.
The December wind outside cut straight through me. My breath turned white in the air, then vanished into the dark almost at once.
“Ethan, are you sure?”
Mr. Sterling pushed my resignation letter back across the desk. His brows had knotted tightly together. “They’re announcing the promotion list at the end of the year. You’re the project manager I had the highest hopes for. If you resign now, it’s a real waste.”
“I’ve made up my mind,” I said. “Thank you for everything, Mr. Sterling.”
“Is this about salary?”
“I can put in for a special salary adjustment for you. Thirty percent,” Mr. Sterling said. “No—forty.”
“It’s not about the money.”
“Then what is it about?”
I looked out the window. From the twenty-eighth floor, I could see almost the entire city spread out below. I’d worked here for five years. I’d started as an intern and clawed my way up until I was one of the department’s key people. Late nights were routine. I’d treated stomach pills like meals. I’d finally endured long enough to reach the edge of a promotion.
“I’m tired,” I said. “I want a different kind of life.”
Mr. Sterling studied me for a long moment, then sighed. “You always seem easygoing, but deep down you’re more stubborn than anyone. Fine. I’ll have HR handle the paperwork. And if you ever want to come back, call me.”
“Thank you.”
When I started packing my things, my coworkers crowded around my desk.
“Ethan, seriously? Is this for real?”
“Did another company poach you? Which one? The offer must be incredible.”
Chapter 3
Chapter 3
“Has to be. With your skills, an annual salary in the seven figures is only a matter of time.”
I packed my personal things into a cardboard box and smiled. “No new job. I just don’t want to do this anymore.”
“What?”
“Ethan, don’t do anything rash. The job market’s terrible right now…”
I didn’t explain. I carried the box out of the office building.
The sun was bright enough to make me squint. I took a deep breath.
My phone rang. It was my real estate agent.
“Mr. Bennett, are you really in that much of a hurry to sell? The market’s coming back. If you wait a little longer, you could get a lot more—”
“I need it sold fast,” I said. “Can we sign today?”
“We can, but your asking price is fifteen percent below market value…”
“That’s the price. Full payment. The faster, the better.”
I’d bought the apartment in my third year at work. Eighty square meters, two bedrooms. The down payment had drained my savings dry, and I’d signed myself up for twenty years of mortgage payments. There was still over a million left on the loan. I’d listed it at 1.8 million. After everything was settled, I’d clear less than five hundred thousand.
The agent probably thought I’d lost my mind.
But I was the only one who knew I had to move fast.
I had to get everything done before my mother and the others found out.
The sale went through smoothly. The buyer was the type who flipped properties for profit. When he realized I urgently needed cash, he pushed the price down another fifty thousand.
I agreed.
Standing outside the property transaction center with my bank card in hand, I checked my balance. Between the money from the sale and my savings from the past few years, I had 2.03 million.
Enough.
I booked a flight. Sydney. One way. Tomorrow at ten in the morning.
Then I made a post on my social feed, visible only to me.
See you in five years.
After that, I opened WeChat, found the family group chat—The Loving Family—and muted it. Then I started deleting my relatives one by one. My mother. My father. Vanessa. Ryan. Lily. And all the assorted aunts, uncles, and distant relations who always seemed to appear whenever there was gossip or money involved.
Halfway through, I stopped.
I didn’t leave the group.
I kept it. I wanted to see what they’d say there in the future.
At last, I pulled out my SIM card and tossed it into a trash can by the side of the road.
When the plane landed at Sydney Airport, I was in the middle of a nightmare.
In the dream, my mother was holding that bank card and smiling at me.
Ethan Bennett, she said, you really are such a good son.
Then her face twisted, stretched wider and wider, and turned into a gaping bloody mouth that swallowed me whole.
I jolted awake, my forehead slick with cold sweat.
The student in the next seat glanced at me. “First time in Australia?”
“Yeah.”