Chapter 144: Separation
“Mom… I didn’t mean that.”
Gu Tinghao felt sick to his stomach because of his wife’s stunt. But instead of taking a stand, he just sat there, acting as a human punching bag caught right in the crossfire.
“Heh… But in your heart, you are just as bitter, aren’t you?”
Mother Gu’s sharp words left him completely speechless. Because the truth was, he was bitter.
His eldest brother was the undisputed heir to the Gu family’s legacy. No matter how many elite resources were funneled into Tingye’s career, Tinghao knew better than to complain. But Tingxiao was caught right in the middle. Because his third brother had chosen the military path, the family had thrown their absolute, unwavering support behind him.
Meanwhile, Tinghao felt he only had his mother to slowly pave a path for him in the political sector. His maternal grandparents, the Wen family, were influential in politics, but they had too many talented descendants of their own to support; they certainly weren’t going to divert precious political capital to a grandson.
Even though the Gu family’s influence was primarily in the military, the grandfather’s towering status alone should have been enough to secure an effortless political trajectory for Tinghao. But the old man had flatly refused to pull strings, and his father refused to leverage his own military connections and personal face to tip the scales.
How could he be satisfied with that?
Yet, despite his deep-seated frustration, he had never actually wanted to fracture the household. Demanding a formal separation of assets had never crossed his mind. It was simply a psychological complexes—he just hated watching everything fall into place so effortlessly for his third brother.
“Don’t think for a second I don’t see right through you!” Mother Gu barked. “Old Fourth, you truly believe this family favors your third brother. But let me ask you a question.”
“Your third brother has bled to achieve everything he holds today. What did this family ever do for him, besides ensuring that corrupt superiors couldn’t abuse their authority to bury his achievements?”
“Tingxiao reached his current rank because he fought for his life on the front lines, didn’t he?”
“As his mother and his elder, I merely granted him the most basic, hands-off protections, and you burn with jealousy. Meanwhile, I have spent years meticulously planning your trajectory and smoothing your path. Do you honestly lack the self-awareness to see your own limitations?”
“Could you have carved out a path on your own merit like your third brother did?”
“You can’t even manage your own wife, look after your daughter, or maintain peace in the tiny patch of land that is your own household!”
Mother Gu’s words cut Tinghao to the quick. He felt thoroughly humiliated, yet he had to admit her breakdown was entirely factual. His mother didn’t grant him an ounce of face, brutally exposing his incompetence before the entire room.
“The prestigious status the Gu family enjoys today was bought with the lives of generations of our ancestors!” Mother Gu continued, her voice ringing with authority. “Our lineage has spilled its blood for generations, dedicating their lives entirely to the soil of this motherland!”
“The Gu clan was a house packed with loyal, courageous heroes, and in the end, your grandfather was the singular soul left alive in this world.”
She stepped directly up to him, the look in her eyes heavy with profound disappointment. “So let me ask you, how can you be this shameless? Do you expect the Gu family to barter the sacred blood of our ancestors to secure your petty career advancement?”
Tinghao’s heart trembled violently under his mother’s fierce reprimand, and he instinctively stumbled two steps backward. Beside them, Grandpa and Grandma Gu looked exceptionally grim, their weathered eyes swimming with ancient pain.
“Mom… I, I was wrong…” Tinghao choked out, his knees buckling. “I shouldn’t have harbored such thoughts…”
He dropped heavily to his knees, burying his face in his hands before the patriarch. “Grandpa, I… I was wrong.”
He never should have allowed his mind to be poisoned by envy. The Gu lineage was defined by immaculate loyalty and bravery; he had no right to taint their legacy with selfish, political machinations.
Old Master Gu let out a long, heavy sigh. He was growing frail, and there were simply some domestic matters he no longer possessed the energy to police.
“Since you want a separation so desperately,” Grandpa Gu commanded quietly, “then we shall execute it today.”
Tinghao’s head snapped up, frantically shaking his head. He had never actually desired a split. He was simply driven by an ugly, competitive streak, but he never intended to actively wound his own flesh and blood.
What he failed to realize was that if his family hadn’t known his core character—if they didn’t recognize that he was merely throwing a tantrum born of a petty inferiority complex—he would have been permanently cast out of the lineage today, his name stripped from the registers entirely.
“Grandpa…” he pleaded, tears welling in his eyes. “I don’t want to split the family.”
Grandpa Gu merely waved a dismissive hand, turning to Mother Gu to signal her to begin the asset distribution. Understanding the patriarch’s absolute directive, Mother Gu immediately headed to her quarters to retrieve the family ledger and savings passbooks.
“Since your wife is entirely convinced that we operate under shameless favoritism, then we shall divide everything with clinical precision!” Mother Gu announced, returning to the parlor. “From this moment forward, whether the three branches lead a life of absolute luxury or total squalor will depend entirely on your own independent luck.”
She was thoroughly finished coddling them. Her sons were grown men with their own independent households and established careers. As a mother, she carried zero guilt into this accounting.
Seeing that she was entirely serious, the eldest brother, Gu Tingye, and his wife immediately stepped forward to intervene. The household had been functioning in perfect harmony; there was absolutely no reason to tear the family estate apart over a dinner table tantrum.
Wang Chunmei, however, was practically vibrating with excitement. Seeing that her calculated ambush had successfully forced a division of the wealth, she completely ignored her kneeling husband. As far as she was concerned, no one would ever be able to siphon resources away from the fourth branch again.
“Everyone take a seat,” Father Gu commanded. Seeing Tinghao refusing to rise from the floor, his father delivered a sharp, bruising kick to his ribs.
The force sent Tinghao sprawling against the floorboards before his father roughly hauled him back onto a chair. Tinghao felt his back burning from the impact; when his father was incensed, he showed zero mercy to his own flesh and blood. If a son managed to deeply wound his mother’s heart, Father Gu couldn’t care less if that son shared his DNA.
Gu Tingxiao and Sheng Wanyan exchanged a swift, knowing look. Tingxiao gently guided her over to a vacant sofa, seating himself firmly beside her as an unshakeable anchor.
“Since the entire household is gathered, I will keep this brief,” Mother Gu announced, unlatching her heavy iron lockbox. “For a junior to initiate such an ugly, public coup makes me a failure as a mother-in-law. In that case, each branch will completely govern their own financials from this hour forward.”
The literal second the words left her mouth, Wang Chunmei’s eyes locked onto the iron box, her gaze gleaming with undisguised greed.
“The collective capital this household has accumulated over the decades will be split into equal portions,” Mother Gu declared, tracking the ledger lines. “But first, your grandparents’ specialized military pensions will be returned entirely to the two elders for their private discretion.”
Wang Chunmei’s mouth twitched as she prepared to mount an objection, but a single, lethal glare from Mother Gu froze the words in her throat. The easygoing, permissive demeanor her mother-in-law usually displayed had vanished entirely, replaced by the frigid, crushing authority of a high-ranking bureaucrat. Wang Chunmei’s heart hammered against her ribs, and she quickly looked down, not daring to utter a syllable.
“The core savings ledger holds a grand total of 55,308 yuan,” Mother Gu read out clinically. “Divided precisely, each branch will receive an immediate payout of 18,436 yuan. Moving forward, you are no longer required to surrender your independent salaries to the main household.”
Hearing the astronomical figure she was about to inherit, Wang Chunmei’s breath hitched. She had never encountered that much capital in her entire life. To make things even sweeter, keeping her full factory salary meant she could spend her funds exactly as she pleased without parental oversight.
“However,” Mother Gu continued, her voice cutting through the greed like a blade, “each branch is legally obligated to provide a monthly maintenance fee of 20 yuan to us, alongside a strict allotment of 10 kilograms of refined grain per household.”
“Your father and I will reside exclusively with your eldest brother’s branch for our twilight years. Therefore, Tingye’s household is entirely exempt from the monthly cash support, as they will be providing our daily housing and board.”
“Should any medical emergencies manifest among the elders, the three separate branches will split the healthcare invoices into equal thirds. Your grandparents’ medical bills will be exempt from this division; their costs will be handled independently by your father, your second uncle, and your second aunt.”
“As for our future government salaries and eventual retirement pensions, you need not expend your energy calculating their layout. We will fully distribute our remaining personal assets before we take our final breaths, so you don’t have to live in a state of constant, anxious panic over our wills.”
Mother Gu’s final remark was drenched in pure, unadulterated sarcasm, and everyone in the parlor knew precisely who the insult was leveled at.
“The kitchen woks, porcelain, and household furniture will remain entirely undivided; they are reserved for our collective use and your grandparents’ comfort,” she finalized. “The remaining state-issued supply coupons are far too meager to split mathematically, so your father and I will retain them for the main kitchen’s inventory. Are there any objections?”
The three Gu brothers collectively shook their heads. Who on earth would dare mount a protest now? Mother Gu’s mathematical division was flawlessly, brutally fair. There wasn’t a single financial loophole left to exploit.
But Wang Chunmei, her greed temporarily overriding her survival instincts, suddenly bolted upright in her chair.
“Mom! The mountain of luxury return-gifts that Third Sister-in-law hauled back to her parents today was paid for out of the collective family funds! That throws the entire ledger out of balance!” she protested shrilly. “My third sister-in-law doesn’t even possess a government job, nor has she ever surrendered a single copper coin to this household! Why on earth should she—”
Before she could finish her desperate calculation, Mother Gu let out a cold, sharp laugh that cut her off completely. Is this woman truly insane enough to try and audit my books right now? she thought, looking at her fourth daughter-in-law with an expression of pure, dangerous amusement.
