When he was young, he often saw his parents working hard in the fields, their sweat soaking their shirts. His mother carried heavy baskets of rice, his father bent his back digging the ground to plant potatoes, hoping to have money for his children to study. Every meal consisted of only boiled vegetables with salt, but his parents always gave their rare delicious food to their children. He and his sister grew up in that hard work, believing that education was the only way to change their lives. Their parents often told them: “Try to study hard, later on you will have a stable job, and you can take care of your parents in their old age.”

He still remembers the day he received the university admission notice, his father hugged him and cried. That was the first time he saw his father cry, his eyes were red but shining with happiness. His younger sister was also admitted to the city school, the whole family was happy, forgetting all the hardships. His parents spent all their savings, even borrowed money to pay for the two of them to go to school. He secretly promised: “From now on, I will definitely take care of my parents, not let them suffer anymore.”

However, life in the city was not as easy as he thought. After graduating from school, he was lucky to get a stable job, but the salary was not high. His sister got married early, and her husband was not well off, unemployed all day and complaining. His parents from the countryside still sent some rice and vegetables to help their two children. He loved them very much but did not know how to support the whole family.

Many times, my mother called, her voice trembling, asking: “Do you two have enough to eat? Your parents are old and can’t help much.” He brushed it off, lying that everything was fine to reassure his parents. But at night, looking at the damp rented room, he only saw a heavy darkness. His sister also called to complain that her husband didn’t care about anything, and she was lonely in the midst of her in-laws’ indifference. He felt helpless and could only sigh.

Then he married a girl from the city. On the wedding day, his parents traveled all the way from the countryside, bringing a few chickens and a few kilos of rice as gifts, which made the bride’s family sigh in disdain. He clearly saw the eyes of his mother in law and relatives there, as if he was just a freeloader. But because he loved his wife, he accepted the situation of living with her, thinking that he would try to prove his worth. In the first years of marriage, he worked hard, quietly enduring all the criticism. In his wife’s family, his voice was as small as a grain of sand in the desert.

Every time his wife was not satisfied, she would say harsh words: “You are just an outsider, living in this house, don’t have any opinions.” His mother in law would add: “My daughter has raised your two children, what more do you want?” Those words were like a knife piercing his heart, but he just bowed his head and remained silent. He was afraid that if he protested, his wife would become more distant, and his children would witness the family’s turmoil. So he chose to swallow his tears.

One time he was seriously ill, his parents heard the news and immediately went to visit him. They bought some chicken and some traditional medicine, hoping to help. But his wife received him coldly, saying indifferently: “The house is small, it’s better for you to go back to the countryside and rest.” His parents quietly returned home, without saying anything more, leaving only sad eyes. From then on, they never came to visit again.

During Tet, he had to spend three days at his parents’ house before he could take his son back to the countryside. Every time, his parents would look at their son and daughter-in-law and sigh, unable to form words. He knew they were looking forward to their daughter-in-law and grandchild, but his wife had never once returned. “I’m busy, please understand,” he would often make excuses to ease his parents’ pain. But when night fell, the guilt would torment him, making it difficult for him to sleep.

Years passed, his parents grew old and sick, and they visited him constantly. One time when he returned to his hometown, a neighbor pulled him aside and whispered: “Your parents are over eighty years old, and have been sick many times and had to ask us to take care of them. You have to take responsibility, don’t let outsiders take care of you.” Hearing that, he choked up, feeling extremely ashamed. From deep inside, a voice called out: he could no longer ignore his parents.

He returned home and hesitantly told his wife: “I want to take my parents up to take care of them, or at least take some time off to go back to my hometown to take care of them.” His wife glared at him: “You haven’t even taken care of the person who gave birth to you for a single day, why do you have to serve my parents?” His mother in law interrupted: “Men should take care of their wives’ families, don’t even dream about taking care of their biological parents.” Those words left him speechless. He understood that if he waited for his wife’s consent, that day would never come.

Finally, he decided to quit his job, submitted his resignation letter without telling his wife. He quietly returned to his hometown, cleaned up the old house, and started taking care of his parents’ meals and medicine. With him at every meal, his mother smiled and his father felt warm. His health improved, he fell ill less often, and his mother was in high spirits. He hid the truth, only saying: “My wife and I are busy with many things and can’t come back yet, don’t blame us.”

In his heart, he knew his wife never wanted to get involved with her husband’s family. But he didn’t want to make his parents sadder, so he had to bear it alone. During the days of farming, he worked and missed his children, missed their clear laughter. At night, he lay listening to his father’s wheezing breath, his mother’s tossing and turning, his heart heavy but also strangely peaceful. He felt like he had finally done what he had promised long ago.

Half a year later, he unexpectedly received a phone call from his father-in-law. His voice was stern but he could not hide his anticipation: “Go out and see your father, it’s important.” He set off, his heart filled with anxiety. When he met his wife and her parents, he was surprised to see them smiling and welcoming him. His wife was moved to tears: “I… I miss you.”

Father-in-law pulled out a chair for him, speaking slowly: “Since you left home, my daughter has not been able to teach the two children. They are stubborn, their studies have declined, and they are at great risk of going bad.” He paused, looking at him hopefully: “I want you to bring your wife and children back to the countryside, I will give you three billion to start over. I understand now, this family needs you, no one can replace you.” He sat there, speechless, unable to believe those words.

His wife held his hand, for the first time in many years, her voice trembling: “I’m sorry… I was wrong. I looked down on you, but I didn’t expect that after you left, I would see how important you were.” He looked at his wife, his heart in turmoil, both pain and sorrow. All these years, he had only wished for this understanding. But now, what he thought about the most was his old and weak parents who were waiting for him.

He slowly replied, “I agreed to bring my family back to the countryside, but not for the three billion. I want my parents to live peacefully in their final years, and my children to learn to respect their grandparents.” The whole family fell silent, no one said anything more. The father-in-law nodded slightly, his eyes shining with understanding. His wife covered her face and sobbed, perhaps realizing for the first time the value of her husband who had been despised.

The day his whole family returned to their hometown, his elderly parents cried tears of joy. The grandchildren babbled to their grandparents, making the old house warmer than ever. The neighbors looked on, and everyone exclaimed: “Finally, this family is reunited.” He felt relieved, the years of regret gradually fading away. In the golden afternoon light, he held his father’s hand, knowing that he had chosen the right path.