The So-Called Relatives

Upon hearing my voice, both my mother and grandmother turned to look at me.

My mother was surprised to see me, and my grandmother, although initially surprised, quickly sneered with disdain, her face contorting into a mocking expression that seemed to reach the sky.

"Who did I think it was? So, it's you, this little troublemaker who's come back. Do you have the face to return?" she scoffed.

I smiled lightly, politely saying, "Grandmother, this is my home. Why can't I come back?"

Grandmother snorted sarcastically, "You've made it big, haven't you? Bought a villa in the city, huh? A few years ago, you were so successful that you wouldn't even lend a hand to us relatives. How could we, poor relatives, possibly associate with a big shot like you? If you're so capable, why not stay in the city and not come back?"

My mother stepped forward, kindly asking me, "Alex, have you eaten? Let me prepare something for you."

I nodded, smiling at my mother, "I have, just had a meal in the city. Mom, don't bother now, let's clarify this matter with grandmother."

"Exactly, we can't let it go today. Three chickens, you figure it out yourselves," I added.

My mother hurriedly explained, "You must clarify things! I really didn't go to the hills to spray pesticides. Your chickens didn't die because of my pesticides."

Grandmother waved her hand dismissively, angrily saying, "Keilee, don't talk nonsense with me. Who doesn't know you've been eyeing my chickens for a long time? Are you intentionally poisoning them so you can take them to your son in the city without me knowing?"

I chuckled at grandmother's attempt to find reasons to mock my mother. My mother, fragile and alone in the village since my father's death, was always mistreated by the neighbors.

But now that I was back, I wouldn't let anyone bully my mother.

I shielded my mother, facing grandmother and saying, "Grandmother, I address you as an elder, but do you really act like one? Your son is working now. Aren't you afraid these matters will reach his workplace and embarrass him?"

Grandmother, momentarily thrown off by my response, hesitated before saying, "What's wrong with what I said? Your mother went to the hills, sprayed pesticides, and killed my chickens. Is that acceptable?"

I replied nonchalantly, "Admittedly, it's a bit hard to accept. But, as I said before, do you have any evidence? You rely on hearsay. 

Find the person who told you, bring them here, and let me question them. Even if it's true, my mother was spraying pesticides in her own vegetable garden. I haven't even blamed you for your chickens wandering into our yard and eating our vegetables."

"You, you..." Grandmother was left speechless and pale by my words, unable to come up with a retort.

I continued, "If it's really necessary, I'll bring the village head here, and we'll discuss it rationally. Today, we will clear up this matter!"

Completely deflated, grandmother shot me an angry look and pointed at me, saying, "You little rascal, just wait for me!"

With that, she took the three dead chickens from the ground and left.

The yard finally quieted down. I turned to my mother, who seemed relieved but had an uneasy expression.

"Mom, it's settled. Don't worry about it," I reassured her.

Mom sighed, saying, "No, your grandmother won't let it go. Maybe we should compensate her for the three chickens!"

My mother, a typical rural woman, had been raised to avoid trouble. It wasn't that she was weak; it was the typical attitude of a rural woman.

I patted my mother's shoulder, continuing to reassure her, "Don't worry! Nothing will happen. I'll be home for the next few days, and they won't dare to do anything."

Comforted by my words, my mother gradually relaxed and went to prepare dinner.

I remembered seeing a crowd at the village committee when I returned. I asked my mother in the woodshed, "Mom, did something happen at the village committee meeting? Are they discussing relocation?"

"No, it's a fundraising event for the former village chief. Everyone is donating money, and they say the relocation will happen tomorrow," my mother's voice echoed from the woodshed.

I was surprised; the former village chief had always been good to our family. Before I started my career, he often helped us, providing significant support.

Now that I was back, I couldn't let him face difficulties alone.

I asked my mother, "What happened to the former village chief?"

"He was diagnosed with malignant tumors earlier this year. It's said that the medical expenses are several hundred thousand, and his family's money has been spent by his younger son. The village is fundraising for him, and I was planning to go later. But your grandmother suddenly came," my mother explained.

My immediate thought was to contribute, even if I had no money now. The former village chief had helped us a lot, especially when I needed money to pay for university, and he lent us the remaining sum.

Now that he was in trouble, I couldn't ignore it.

I told my mother, "Mom, I'll go with you to donate later!"

"Okay," my mother agreed, adding, "I've prepared the vegetables; let's go after dinner."

Before I could respond, the noise outside the yard interrupted us, "Alex Phoenix, you little bastard, come out!'

My heart skipped a beat, and I rushed to look outside.

Several people, all relatives of our family, stood outside, led by my grandmother and uncle. They were making a scene as if they were here to demolish our house.

I knew grandmother must have told my uncle, and he gathered my other relatives to intimidate us.

Despite my current situation, I wouldn't let them bully me just because there were more of them.

I opened the door, and they swarmed in.

My uncle, wearing a stern face, shouted, "Alex Phoenix, you troublemaker! Our three chickens were killed by your mother's pesticides. If you won't admit it, fine, compensate us for the loss!"

Unruffled, I calmly replied, "Uncle, I've already explained this clearly. We need evidence. What's the point of shouting baseless accusations here?"

My older uncle, more composed due to his age, stepped forward, saying, "Alex Phoenix, don't make a scene. Everyone saw that your mother killed those chickens with her pesticides. There's no argument here."

My older aunt echoed, "Exactly. Just pay the money, and it'll be over. Why make such a fuss?"

Not wanting to waste time arguing, I gestured, "I've stated my position. Bring out the evidence, and I'll compensate. Otherwise, don't expect a single penny from my family!"

Hearing the commotion, my mother hobbled out of the woodshed, distressed at the scene unfolding before her.

She pleaded, "What's going on? We're all family. Can't we talk calmly?"

"Who said we're family?" grandmother retorted. Frustrated by her words, my pent-up emotions exploded.

I grabbed a hoe nearby, brandishing it across my chest, and shouted, "Get out! Our home is not welcoming you. You have one minute, or don't blame me for being impolite!"