My brother has been missing since 1990. At the time, he was only 20 years old. He said he went to the city to pursue a career, and then went silent. My entire family did everything they could to search, post newspapers, send photos, and ask questions everywhere, but there was absolutely no clue. My parents lit incense and called their son’s name every day, hoping he would one day return.

Time passes… More than 30 years have passed. His father’s hair was gray, his mother’s back was shackled, and the entire family considered him missing.

However, one afternoon, the entire town was stunned when they saw a  billion-dollar car  pull up in front of the house. The door opened, and a middle-aged man stepped out. His figure was naked, but his face was… it’s my brother! My mother was crying when she saw him, and my father was trembling against the wall.

In his hand were  three red books . All the relatives rushed out, all thinking, “You’re a success! Now you’re back to pay homage to your parents!” The atmosphere was filled with excitement.

However, when he placed the three red notebooks on the table, he said coldly:

–  “This isn’t a gift of filial piety. These are three pieces of land that… My parents sold cheaply to people in the past so they could find me. I paid the ransom. But I didn’t bring it back to offer it, but to… claim your share.”

The whole house  was stunned . My mother was stunned, tears in her eyes. Dad sat back in his chair, his hands shaking. He continued, his voice muffled but firm:

–  “For thirty years, I haven’t been missing. I left because of the imposition and injustice in this family. I’m back today, not to be a filial child, but to reclaim what should have belonged to me.”

The air is stifling, as the joy of reunion momentarily turns to tragedy. The tears of happiness that had just fallen turned to grief… When the family understood:  The child thought to be missing has now returned, but he is no longer a support, but a knife cut straight into the heart of the person left behind.