BOSF 023: Parents’ Quarrels

The news of the food processing factory’s relocation sent a wave of gloom over the village’s workers. What was once seen as a secure job—a lifelong “iron rice bowl” with retirement benefits—had vanished overnight. The factory owner wasn’t entirely heartless; he offered priority to veteran employees to stay on, provided they relocated to the new factory, where housing would be provided.

But the villagers were deeply rooted here. Asking them to leave their families and children behind to work elsewhere was unrealistic, and almost no one agreed. Failed negotiations led to workers protesting with banners outside the factory, but it was futile—a waste of time.

The owner, believing he’d shown enough goodwill, refused to budge further. The situation reached a stalemate.

Ji Qiuyuan had worked at the factory for twenty years, starting young and climbing to a mid-level managerial role, overseeing a small team. Now, facing the loss of his livelihood, he wasn’t the only one worried—Lin Yueqin was even more anxious.

Lin Yueqin had always been frugal, almost stingy, as seen in her refusal to buy Ji Yan toys. Before marriage, her parents drilled into her that marrying the right man meant choosing stability over love. She’d believed marrying Ji Qiuyuan was the right choice, tolerating his chauvinistic temperament for a stable life. After nearly two decades and raising a child, she couldn’t accept such a drastic change.

In her agitation, she pressed Ji Qiuyuan relentlessly. “What are we going to do? You can’t just sit there! You’re about to lose your job—think of something!”

As the head of the household, Ji Qiuyuan was used to Lin Yueqin deferring to him. Being questioned like this irritated him. “What can I do? I don’t own the factory!”

Lin Yueqin kept nagging. “Why don’t you just go to the new factory? At least you’d still earn money. They provide housing. It’s just a bit far, but you can come back on holidays. It’s better than having no income…”

His patience wore thin. “If you want to go, go yourself!”

Her temper flared. “You reject everything! So tell me, what’s the plan? We need money for food, for bills, for everything! And our kid’s still in school—”

“Don’t you do handicrafts for extra cash?”

Lin Yueqin’s voice shot up. “Ji Qiuyuan! That’s just pocket money! You can’t expect my earnings to support us!”

“Why are you yelling? Nothing’s set in stone yet. There might still be a chance. Haven’t you seen everyone protesting? Your nagging is giving me a headache. Will yelling solve anything?”

Lin Yueqin knew she was worrying excessively but couldn’t help it. “Why’s your boss suddenly moving the factory? It’s been fine for decades…”

“Who knows?” Ji Qiuyuan’s frustration boiled over, deflecting blame. “The new boss, the old owner’s son, thinks this place is too remote. Shipping costs are high. They found a cheaper site where they can cut labor and material costs in half. They don’t care about us old employees. Who knows what these young people are thinking? Can the factory even run smoothly without us?”

Money drove the couple’s endless arguments. Lin Yueqin pushed for Ji Qiuyuan to relocate, but he refused. His old-school pride wouldn’t let him yield. He had his reasons: leaving home would leave the family without a man. What if something happened? He couldn’t rush back. In truth, he just didn’t want to change.

Ji Qiuyuan, born and raised here, had never left. As the eldest son with two younger sisters, outdated gender norms had spoiled him, leaving him helpless with chores. After his parents passed and his sisters married, he lost contact with them. He was the type to cling to appearances, too proud to struggle alone elsewhere.

Their quarrels deeply affected Ji Yan’s studies. Students were supposed to focus on school and nothing else, but with the family’s livelihood at stake, how could he not worry? This time, the arguments were fiercer than ever, no longer hidden from him. It was as if yelling could solve the problem, each parent obsessed with proving themselves right.

Once again, Ji Yan felt his parents’ selfishness. Neither considered the other’s perspective—or their child’s feelings.

With no money and constant parental fights, Ji Yan had no energy to seek out Xiang Yang. The joy of entering high school faded quickly. His daily hour-long commute—waking before six, catching a bus in the dark, transferring, and squeezing in with other students—left him drained. By the time he reached school, he was already exhausted.

High school was a new challenge. The students, filtered through entrance exams, were often stronger academically than Ji Yan. The curriculum was far tougher than junior high. Lectures alone were hard to follow, and mandatory after-school tutoring meant he didn’t get home until after seven. Dinner was followed by studying and homework, punctuated by his parents’ arguments. Some assignments were so difficult he couldn’t finish them.

His life became a monotonous cycle of school, home, and study, numbing him. He barely understood the dense textbooks, which felt like gibberish.

When midterms came, despite his efforts, Ji Yan ranked near the bottom. He’d never scored so low before. He thought he didn’t care about grades, but at home, he broke down, crying into his blanket.

His parents didn’t notice his distress or check his report card. They were too busy arguing about money and Ji Qiuyuan’s next job to keep the family afloat.

As the year-end approached, the factory’s relocation was finalized. Protests dwindled as workers realized resistance was futile. The banners outside the factory disappeared.

After the New Year, Ji Qiuyuan would officially be unemployed. The owner, showing some compassion, gave laid-off workers generous year-end bonuses and severance to tide them over.

Perhaps due to the factory’s closure, the village’s New Year spirit was subdued, tinged with gloom. Though money wasn’t an immediate concern, Lin Yueqin paused her arguments with Ji Qiuyuan. She cooked a lavish New Year’s meal as usual, but without neighbors invited, the three ate quietly. The dishes were plentiful, but to Ji Yan, they were tasteless. The liveliest sound in the house came from the TV’s laughter.

After New Year’s Eve, Ji Yan turned seventeen. The past year had been tumultuous—from the joy of entering high school to his plummeting grades.

His final exams for the first semester of high school were another failure. Despite his efforts to catch up, his classmates progressed faster. For the first time, he realized the vast gap between people. Some were naturally gifted, earning high marks effortlessly, while he, with average intelligence, had to work harder for the same results.

Under the strain of his parents’ constant fights, he lacked the energy to keep up. Like a deflated balloon, he let his grades slide. As the gap widened, he grew accustomed to seeing failing marks, even starting to accept them.

High school courses were intense but discipline was lax. Unlike before, teachers didn’t monitor grades closely—scores depended entirely on the student.

In top schools, autonomy was emphasized. Whether you soared or sank, no one intervened.

Ji Yan felt anxious, helpless, and ultimately powerless. He hadn’t forgotten his purpose for entering high school or his dream of taking Xiang Yang away. But now, he didn’t dare face him, feeling he had no right to.

Still, he missed him—terribly, always.

After the brief New Year break, life resumed. While most industries restarted, students remained on break, and unemployed factory workers like Ji Qiuyuan stayed home, helping with handicrafts.

The couple’s clashing values led to more friction with prolonged time together. It started with Lin Yueqin urging Ji Qiuyuan to find work, her nagging habitual. He snapped back, “It’s the first day back—stop pushing! You think jobs are that easy to find?”

“Why’d you quit? Why didn’t you go to the new factory—”

“What’s with you and the new factory? It’s so far, I can’t just come back. Are you trying to pull something while I’m gone?”

“Ji Qiuyuan, what are you saying? What do you mean? Our kid’s grown, and you think I’m looking for another man?”

“I didn’t say that—you did.”

Arguments made them lose all reason, their words growing absurd. Ji Yan couldn’t find peace at home. Fed up, he grabbed his books and fled. Like when he ran away as a child, he had nowhere to go. Now taller and older, the wall he used to hide behind no longer fit. With no destination, he sat on the staircase outside his door.

He tried focusing on his books, but his ears caught every word of his parents’ fight. They thought closing the door hid their voices, but he heard everything clearly. His hands trembled as he held his book, eyes reddening, but he stubbornly refused to cry.

He thought he’d grown numb to his parents’ disappointments, that he couldn’t be hurt anymore. Yet the sadness overwhelmed him. He felt useless—failing at school, unable to stop his parents’ fights, never achieving anything he wanted.

Suddenly, the heavy red iron door clanged open.

In their old apartment building, every unit had identical red doors. Ji Yan thought it was his own door at first, but turning, he saw it was the one across from his.

He assumed it was Li Lilian heading out and stood to leave, not wanting her to see him in such a state. But the figure was taller than her, young and handsome—not Xiang Hongxiu.

It was Xiang Yang.

Ji Yan forgot to breathe. He hadn’t expected to see Xiang Yang at a moment like this and was caught off guard. The moment their eyes met, the tears he’d held back—grievances mixed with stubbornness—finally spilled down his face.