Because of poor health, when I became pregnant I asked for unpaid leave to rest. I then asked my parents for the 300 million dowry they had kept since my wedding, and they handed me a bank card—the account balance nearly made me faint… I had always believed that my parents truly loved me.

They loved me so much that every time I visited, my car trunk would be packed full of instant noodles, eggs, fruits… to the point that the rear tires almost sagged. Just by opening the trunk, it was obvious—I didn’t need to buy anything else.

In my mind, that was the simple, genuine love that parents gave their daughter. After all, parental love usually shows in the most essential things of daily life.

But after I got married, everything gradually changed. Or maybe, it had always been that way, only I hadn’t realized it before: my parents loved their daughter, but they loved their son even more.

When I became pregnant, I suffered from severe morning sickness. I couldn’t eat, my weight dropped quickly. My husband advised me to stop working and focus on the pregnancy: “Money can always be earned again, but children can’t.” I thought he was right. Nearing 30, the most important thing was to protect the health of the baby in my womb.

So I quit my job and stayed home to rest. Every day, my mother-in-law came over to cook and clean. Her hands moved quickly while her mouth never stopped complaining:

“Young women these days are spoiled—get pregnant and immediately quit working. Back in my day, even with a huge belly I was still out in the fields, still cooking for myself. Just a week after giving birth, I already had to hustle again.”

Her words were harsh, but I couldn’t deny that she took good care of me. She picked out fish bones, bought seasonal fruit, peeled it, and cut it into small pieces for me. Every morning, even while grumbling, she let me sleep in, quietly reheating food for me afterward.

I thought: “Well, a true gentleman values actions over words. As long as she treats me well, I shouldn’t be too petty.” But still, hearing her constantly mention my unemployment and dependence made me feel heavy inside.

I had always been used to being independent. Having to stretch out my hand to ask for money felt humiliating. So I came up with the idea of asking for my 300 million dowry back to open a small shop—enough to support myself and my child.

At my wedding, I received 200 million in bride price from my husband’s family and another 100 million from my parents. My mother said she would keep the full 300 million for me, so on my wedding day, I didn’t bring any of it home.

But when I asked to withdraw the money to open a shop, my parents fiercely objected. They said: “You’re pregnant now, just stay home and focus on giving birth safely. Your husband will take care of you, there’s no need for you to suffer.”

I softened my tone and pleaded: “Please give it to me, I’ll only use this amount. I really don’t want to beg for every penny to buy milk or baby things.”

My mother snapped: “You’re giving birth for your husband’s family, so they should provide for you. Why should we spend more?”

In the end, because of my persistence, my parents reluctantly gave me a bank card. Excited, I went to check the balance… only 100 million remained. The other 200 million had disappeared.

Disappointed, I told my husband. Right at that moment, I saw my brother posting on Facebook, boasting that he was about to buy a new car. A chill ran through me. I probed, and he laughed, saying:

“The other day I asked for money, but our parents refused. After you scolded them, they felt guilty. Later, they even took me to look at cars, saying that since I work far away and it’s hard, I need a car to make life easier.”

I felt my throat tighten. So the bride price meant for me had turned into my brother’s car.

He noticed my unusual expression and pressed me to explain. I had no choice but to tell the truth: “There’s only 100 million left in the account. The other 200 million is gone.”

His face darkened instantly. Without saying much, he called our parents directly. Even though my mother tried to explain that it was just because they “loved their son more,” he understood everything.

He fell silent, then suddenly took me to the car dealership, canceled the purchase, and accepted losing the deposit. After that, he handed me all the remaining money: “Take it. If it’s not enough, I’ll make up for it next month.”

Looking at my brother, my heart ached yet warmed at the same time. Even though our parents were biased, he chose to stand by me—and that alone was a comfort that eased my pain.