At the funeral of his 5-year-old daughter, the husband walked in with his lover in tow. The wife didn’t get angry but congratulated him, and then…

The girl lay there, in the little coffin, as if sleeping. Her face was peaceful, without tears or fear. Everything was silent. Her sister sat beside her, her hand on the coffin lid. Her eyes were empty.

The funeral home was crowded. They came because they felt sorry for the child. Few paid any attention to her – the thin mother, with disheveled hair and red eyes. Whispers were everywhere, but she could not hear clearly. Her ears were ringing. Her heart was left with only a cold void.

Then he appeared.

The sound of leather shoes echoed. But today, besides the sound of shoes, there was also the sound of thin clogs. He entered, his hand tightly holding the hand of a young woman. She wore a thin black silk dress, her hair was slightly curled, her lips were red, her eyes were proud. She pressed close to him, holding his hand without letting go.

Everyone was stunned. No one expected him to dare bring her here, right at his own daughter’s funeral.

She stood up. Everyone held their breath, waiting. They thought she would rush forward, curse, grab, hit. But she didn’t.

She just looked at them. Her eyes were calm, almost frightening. Then she nodded.

“Congratulations,” she said evenly. “You finally brought her to light.”

He paused. His mistress smirked and squeezed his hand tighter.

Just then, his parents stepped forward. They had been crying for days. His mother’s eyes were swollen shut, her hands shaking as she pointed straight at her son.

“Go away,” she said, her voice breaking. “I will never have a son as heartless as you in my life. The child is not yet cold, and you bring her here to humiliate her?”

He opened his mouth, but no words came out. The old man just turned his back and said one short sentence:

“From today, I will not have a child like you.”

Everyone around bowed their heads. He took his lover’s hand, stepped back, then turned and walked away. No one saw them off. No one bothered to look after them.

She bent down and placed a light kiss on her daughter’s forehead. “Don’t worry. Mom will be fine.”

She stood up straight and walked out, ignoring the prying eyes behind her.

Outside, the sun was shining brightly. The wind blew the scent of white flowers. She took a deep breath. Her feet walked on their own. Down the steps. Out the gate. Past the votive paper shop, past the old coffee shop, through the alley filled with car smoke. For ten years, she had lived in fear. Ten years of enduring all kinds of hurt, being trampled on, being looked down upon. Ten years, she did not dare to laugh out loud, did not dare to speak frankly, did not dare to raise her head.

Now all the ties were broken. Her daughter had left first, but she had not disappeared. She had become a guiding light for her mother.

A few months later, people said he was unemployed, his company went bankrupt, and he was in debt. His lover left him for a richer man. He had to drive a taxi to make ends meet. Every time he returned home, his parents closed the door and treated him like a stranger.

As for her, the woman who had been kicked out of the bedroom, she had changed.

She moved to another city, got a job at a bakery. Then she opened her own small bakery cart in front of the school gate. The number of customers increased day by day. She hired more helpers, pooled her money and opened her own shop. For the first time in her life, she heard the name “boss”.

In the morning, she wakes up at four o’clock, kneads the dough and ferments it herself. In the evening, she studies accounting and online sales management. The new life is tiring, but every time she is tired, she remembers her child. The child will surely be proud that her mother has stood up, stronger than ever.

One late afternoon, as she counted her profits at the end of the day, she suddenly smiled. No more tears, no more fear, no one could ever push her down again.