She started ticking things off on her fingers one by one:
"Does your son need money for when he gets married someday? Money for a down payment on a house? When our daughter gets married, don't we as parents need to help her out with a decent wedding? This money needs to be saved CAREFULLY! A car is just transportation—as long as it has four wheels that turn, we don't need to be burning cash on fancy upgrades!"
After this entire economic lecture about family responsibility, Robert deflated like a punctured balloon.
Robert put away the new belt and muttered quietly:
"I was just... you know... mentioning it casually..."
Ethan also knew that getting his mom to approve THAT kind of spending was absolutely impossible.
No way!
Poor Dad and his old car were gonna have to suffer for a couple more months.
"Alright, alright, stop looking so pathetic."
Linda looked at father and son both wilting at the same time, torn between annoyed and amused:
"We'll replace it when it actually NEEDS replacing, or when one of you starts making serious money, THEN we can talk about it! For now, save me some money!"
Emily watched this familiar family theater.
A smile flickered in her eyes, and she walked over and linked arms with Linda:
"Mom, ignore them. Come on, let's go to my room. I'll show you how to use this skincare properly for best results, and I'll tell you about all the crazy stuff that happened in my program."
She spoke softly and pulled her mother toward her bedroom.
In the living room.
Only the economically-sanctioned "brothers in suffering"—father and son—were left, looking at each other.
Robert sighed softly, walked to the tea table and sat down, skillfully going through the ritual of heating water, warming the pot, and brewing tea.
"Come on, son. Have some tea with your old man and decompress."
In the steam rising from the water, his movements were calm and practiced.
The tea's aroma filled the air, and the atmosphere got quieter.
Robert pushed a freshly brewed cup of premium tea in front of his son, then raised his own cup for a sip.
He looked at Ethan, tone gentle but thoughtful:
"What your mother said came out a bit harsh, but she's not wrong. Money shouldn't be saved when it SHOULD be spent, but it needs to be managed carefully when it shouldn't. You're valedictorian now, high starting point, big future ahead—but that also means a LOT more places where you'll need money. The family will naturally support you however we can, but you need to learn to plan and budget too."
Ethan looked at the few new gray hairs on his dad's temples, and his slightly roughened hands that worked hard for the family, and his heart surged with this mix of emotion and urgent determination.
He sat up straighter, leaned in closer, lowered his voice, and had this firm, mysterious smile:
"Dad, don't worry about it. The car's on me. When I get back from fall break, I PROMISE I'll get you a new one! Just watch!"
Robert was startled hearing this, looked up to meet his son's completely serious expression, then laughed and patted Ethan's shoulder with his large hand:
"You little punk! Just having that attitude makes Dad happier than any car!"
His tone was gentle and full of simple satisfaction:
"Your scholarship money, plus that little nest egg your mom's been managing for you—keep it safe. There's plenty of expenses in college, don't go spending it on us."
He glanced at the old car parked outside the window, smiling:
"Dad's car is solid. It'll run fine for another three, five years, no problem at all!"
He didn't take his son's words seriously at all—just saw them as sweet sentiment from a well-meaning kid.
He knew Ethan only had maybe twenty, thirty thousand in savings at most. As for the MASSIVE amount of money Ethan had made from those sports bets? He had absolutely no clue.
That money was nowhere NEAR enough for a new car—in his mind, anyway.
Ethan opened his mouth, words almost spilling out.
But thinking about the company that hadn't officially launched yet, and still needing to explain where funds were coming from, he swallowed it back down.
Whatever.
Let Dad think it's a joke. When fall break comes around, there'd be plenty of time to explain everything slowly.
"Dad, has Grandpa got everything arranged for the celebration dinner? What do you need me to do?"
Ethan smoothly steered the conversation elsewhere.
"Yeah, pretty much all set."
Robert nodded, taking another slow sip of tea:
"Your grandfather and your great-uncle handled everything. They're setting up the dinner at the family property back home. They hired the best caterer in town, got all the ingredients lined up. Your great-uncle just called to confirm."
Right then!
Emily's bedroom door opened, and Linda and her daughter walked out together.
Linda still had a sheet mask plastered on her face—all white except for cutouts for her eyes and mouth, looking kind of ridiculous but totally comfortable.
She was obviously in a great mood, and once again issued an "imperial decree" to Ethan that allowed zero negotiation:
"Ethan! Tomorrow morning, eight o'clock SHARP! Wake up on time! Wash up and eat! No dragging your feet! We leave at 8:30 exactly to hit the mall with me and your sister! You hearing me?"
Ethan's face fell instantly:
"EIGHT? The mall doesn't even OPEN until ten! That's way too early!"
Linda shot him a look through the mask:
"It's not early. Don't we need breakfast? Then we browse and take our time picking stuff out? It's a tight schedule! That's FINAL! You dare be even one minute late and see what happens!"
Her tone was absolutely final.
Robert tried to keep a straight face on the side, but the corner of his mouth twitched involuntarily.
He was secretly thrilled thinking: Thank GOD I have to go to the store tomorrow for inventory. Dodged that bullet!
Ethan looked at the "murderous intent" his mom couldn't hide even behind the mask, then at his sister next to her with that barely-suppressed smile, and could only surrender:
"...fine. Got it."
Late that night, Ethan retreated to his room, feeling more exhausted than after a full soccer game.
Thinking about tomorrow's marathon shopping mission, his scalp tingled.
He threw himself onto his soft bed with a muffled thud, then pulled out his phone.
Opened his messages.
His finger quickly tapped on the familiar contact he had saved under a very specific nickname.
Typed rapidly:
[Hey auntie (smirk emoji), tomorrow 3 PM, the usual coffee place! Need to discuss some company stuff with you.]
Almost instantly.
At the top of the message thread, it showed "Diana is typing..." and a quick reply popped up:
[Perfect, honey! I'll be there on time waiting for you.]
With a little heart emoji at the end.
He put down his phone, turned off the light, and buried himself in the blankets.
....
The next day.
Eight o'clock in the morning.
The piercing alarm forcibly yanked Ethan out of sleep. His internal clock was still stubbornly resisting, his brain filled with fog and confusion.
Finally.
With a groan of defeat, he dragged himself up.
After washing up, he shuffled to the dining room.
At the breakfast table, his mom and Emily were already sitting there looking completely refreshed.
Linda was energized and chipper, while Emily maintained her cool, elegant composure, delicately sipping her coffee.
Only Ethan had dark circles under his eyes, looking like a wilted plant.
8:30 AM.
The three of them left right on schedule, destination: the shopping mall.
The second they stepped into the bright, spacious, perfectly air-conditioned mall lobby.
Ms. Linda Miller instantly activated "shopaholic mode"—clear targets, determined stride, making a beeline straight for the women's section!
"Sweetie, what do you think of this dress? The color would look amazing on you! Go try it on!"
"This blazer has such a nice cut, great quality fabric. Fall's coming up, you'll need this for your program!"
"And this outfit—looks so professional and polished, you can wear it to conferences!"
"Ethan, don't just STAND there! Grab this! Let your sister try this one too!"
Emily was enthusiastically pushed and prodded by her mother, trying on outfit after outfit.
Despite her usually cool demeanor, she was tall and perfectly proportioned—a natural model—and honestly everything looked fantastic on her.
There are 70 advance chapters ahead in my Patreon. If you are interested can check it out.
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