“Heh heh, no, you really don’t look like it.” The driver shook his head with a smile. “So, are you going home to visit your family? By the way, it’s not the weekend, and it’s not a holiday—don’t you have to work today?”

It seems that no matter where you go in the world, taxi drivers are always the ones who love to chat the most. However, Michael Bolton really wasn’t in the mood for small talk. He gave a polite smile, shook his head, and said nothing.

After twenty minutes, the car stopped in front of his house. Even though Michael Bolton had barely responded along the way, hardly saying a word, the driver was still as talkative as ever, going on and on. It wasn’t until he paid and got out of the car that Michael Bolton finally let out a long breath.

He hadn’t told his parents about coming home this time.

Carrying his suitcase, Michael Bolton walked up to the third floor, gently inserted the key, and carefully turned it twice—good, the door was locked from the inside, so no one was home.

This made Michael Bolton feel a little relieved. Today was Thursday, and it was only three in the afternoon. His parents wouldn’t be home until six, which meant he still had three hours to carefully think about how to tell them he had lost his job.

Michael Bolton pushed open the door and saw that the house was just as it had been when he came home half a year ago. The old fabric sofa, though worn and faded in many places, was still kept spotlessly clean. A stack of newspapers sat on the coffee table, and the TV and air conditioner remotes were neatly lined up in a row.

Michael Bolton lay down on the sofa, and the familiar comfort and softness instantly put him at ease.

Michael Bolton’s father was an accountant at a large state-owned enterprise. Dealing with numbers all day made him quiet and reserved; he barely said ten words a day. His mother was a primary school Chinese teacher, always smiling and well-liked by her students. Michael Bolton had hardly ever seen her lose her temper from childhood to adulthood.

His father handled millions every day, but never pocketed a single cent. His mother, even though she taught two classes, never forced or lured students to her home for paid tutoring like some teachers did. Their life wasn’t exactly poor, but not wealthy either, yet they managed to put both Michael Bolton and his younger brother Jason Bolton through college, which was no small feat.

During his four years at university, Michael Bolton was always an outstanding student. After graduation, he smoothly joined an architectural design institute, where he had worked for three years. The company offered generous benefits and promising prospects. Everything had been going smoothly—promotions, raises—but…

Thinking of this, Michael Bolton sighed. A while ago, he discovered that his direct supervisor was abusing his position, pocketing money while drawing up building plans for a client. If it had just been about money, Michael Bolton might have let it go, but after carefully reviewing the revised blueprints, he realized the client’s bribe was meant to reduce construction difficulty, leading the supervisor to remove a lot of necessary rebar and structural supports.

If the building collapsed, who knows how many lives would be lost! After much deliberation, Michael Bolton decided to report it under his real name. Unexpectedly, after an investigation, his supervisor wasn’t fired—instead, Michael Bolton himself was dismissed.

The reason was simple—compared to cutting corners on blueprints, “exposing the fact that blueprints were being cut” was far more dangerous to the institute. And Michael Bolton, like the child who pointed out the emperor had no clothes, became the source of everyone’s embarrassment.

Michael Bolton knew his parents were upright people and would never disapprove of his choice. But the real problem was… his younger brother Jason Bolton was still in college. Without his monthly contribution to the family, life would get even harder for his parents.

Lying on his back with his hands behind his head, Michael Bolton let his mind wander, and before he knew it, he drifted off to sleep. He didn’t wake until a startled exclamation jolted him awake.

“Xiaoyu? Why are you back?”

Standing in front of him were his parents, each holding a plastic bag with a few green onions sticking out—apparently, they had gone to the market together after work. Though their tone was surprised, the look in their eyes was more joyful than shocked.

“Dad, Mom, I…” Michael Bolton hurriedly stood up, hesitated for a moment, then gritted his teeth and said, “I was fired.”

“Fired? Xiaoyu, what happened?” Michael Bolton’s mother was taken aback, her face showing some surprise, but mostly concern. She quickly put down the groceries and pulled Michael Bolton back onto the sofa. “Tell Mom what happened.”

Michael Bolton’s father silently moved a chair and sat down across from Michael Bolton. Michael Bolton glanced at his mother’s worried face, sighed softly, and told his parents everything about being fired from the design institute.

“And now, I’m afraid I won’t be able to find a job anywhere in this field…” After finishing, Michael Bolton looked at his parents helplessly. “The construction industry is all interconnected. When I was leaving, that supervisor told me he’d make sure I’d never work in this field again…”

After listening, Michael Bolton’s mother gave a gentle smile and took his hand. “I thought it was something serious. Son, don’t worry, you did nothing wrong. Mom supports you!”