“My second sister and I will live with the eldest brother from now on. While we are alive, everyone can use the rooms. After we die, they will all belong to the eldest brother,” Zhou Fugui said.

In Zhoujia Village, the eldest son usually inherits the family business.

Even if the family is dirt poor and only has two thatched houses left, the old man will keep one and a half houses for his eldest son, and the other half will be divided among his other sons.

"No, I don't agree." Zhou Bingxing became anxious and jumped out again.

Zhou Fugui's house has a total of seven rooms.

The Zhou brothers currently live in one room each, Zhou Fugui and Ding Ermei live in another room, and the remaining rooms are used as a guest room, a warehouse, and a woodshed.

According to Zhou Bingxing's idea, it would be fairest for him and his elder brother's family to have three rooms each.

"You disagree? The eldest son inheriting the family business is a rule passed down from our ancestors for thousands of years. I can give my things to whomever I want, is it your place, Zhou Bingxing, to disagree?" Zhou Fugui glared at him.

"Dad, you can't be so biased. If you're going to divide the family property like this, I'm not going to do it." Zhou Bingxing was so angry he was almost depressed.

Zhou Bingxing wanted to divide the family property so that Zhou Bingchen would not have the right to a share of the assets, not to remove himself from the family.

If there weren't so many people around, Zhou Bingxing would have liked to ask Zhou Fugui if he was so biased, would he also give most of the gold bars to his elder brother in the future? Or would he just give them all to his elder brother?

"I'm biased? I'm not even dead yet, and you're already eyeing my few rooms?" Zhou Fugui glared at Zhou Bingxing and said angrily.

Zhou Fugui thought Zhou Bingxing was completely out of his mind.

He was the one who suggested separating the family, and now he's the one saying they shouldn't separate.

Now the die is cast, and there's no turning back.

Zhou Dazhu, a high-ranking team leader, has a lot of work to do every day. Telling him now that we're not separating the family business would be to offend him.

"Bingchen, do you have any objections to your father dividing things this way?" Zhou Dazhu asked, looking at Zhou Bingchen, who had been standing silently to the side.

Zhou Dazhu wanted to befriend Zhou Bingchen, which is why he asked that question.

After all, Zhou Bingchen was at a disadvantage by dividing things this way, as Zhou Fugui had done.

“I have no objection. We’ll divide it however Dad says,” Zhou Bingchen said, shaking his head.

Ever since that dream, and after returning home and learning about the kind of life Zhao Zhenzhu had lived in this family for the past few years, Zhou Bingchen had lost all hope for the affection between Zhou Fugui and Ding Ermei.

The less Zhou Fugui gave, the more calmly Zhou Bingchen was able to tear himself and his family apart.

“Okay, then I’ll write down what I said earlier first.” Zhou Dazhu lowered his head and started writing quickly.

After a few minutes, Zhou Dazhu put down his pen and asked, "Uncle Fugui, what are your retirement regulations? Do we need to write them down?"

"Yes, yes." Zhou Fugui looked at Zhou Bingchen with expectant eyes and said, "Bingchen, will you still give us twenty yuan a month from now on? Or will you increase it a little bit each year?"

"Dad, you should ask my eldest and second eldest brothers what their plan is. Do they also get twenty a month?" Zhou Bingchen said with a stern face.

Twenty a month?

Zhou Fugui really dared to speak up.

If it were the Zhou Bingchen of the past, he might have gritted his teeth and agreed.

The kindness of parents in raising their children cannot be measured by money. Among Zhou Bingchen's brothers, Zhou Bingchen is the most successful. He earns more and is willing to give more.

However, Zhou Bingchen no longer wants to do that.

Based solely on Ding Ermei's years of insults and bullying towards Zhao Zhenzhu and her children, Zhou Bingchen wouldn't even give her ten yuan, let alone twenty.

“Okay, twenty it is. My brother and I will also give you twenty.” Before Zhou Fugui could speak, Zhou Bingxing jumped out again.

Zhou Bingxing was making plans in his mind.

Zhou Bingchen will be returning to his unit soon.

He said he'd give twenty a month, but does that mean Zhou Bingchen would travel all the way home just to see him give it to him?

Now that they've agreed, Zhou Fugui and Ding Ermei won't be able to chase after Zhou Bingxing for the money later, because they know that even if they did, Zhou Bingxing wouldn't be able to afford it.

"Second brother, go back to your room and bring me the 240 yuan you gave to Mom and Dad this year before you speak," Zhou Bingchen said, laughing in exasperation.

Zhou Bingxing worked in the production team and earned less than twenty yuan a year.

Now they're offering twenty yuan a month for retirement? They're practically throwing their money away.

"Third brother, why should I pay? If anyone should pay, it should be Mom and Dad who tell me to." Zhou Bingxing acted like a scoundrel with a straight face.

"Dad, the money I sent home to Mom before was ten yuan a month, not twenty yuan. Are you out of your mind?" Zhou Bingchen was too lazy to argue with Zhou Bingxing, so he turned to ask Zhou Fugui.

Zhou Fugui was stunned.

Indeed, Zhou Bingchen had agreed from the beginning that he would send twenty yuan home, ten yuan to Ding Ermei to help with household expenses, and the other ten yuan to Zhao Zhenzhu for their family's expenses.

Ding Ermei immediately took Zhao Zhenzhu's ten yuan.

Several years have passed, and Zhao Zhenzhu has never made a fuss.

Zhou Fugui naturally assumed that the twenty yuan was a gift from Zhou Bingchen to them.

Upon hearing Zhou Bingchen's words, Zhou Fugui could no longer pretend to be stupid and could only laugh awkwardly and say, "I'm old and my words are incoherent. What I just said was ten yuan, ten yuan is correct. Bingchen, you can give us ten yuan every month from now on."

After saying that, Zhou Fugui was so angry he felt like he was going to vomit blood.

After the family separated, the amount of money Zhou Bingchen sent home was cut in half.

Zhou Fugui felt he had been cheated no matter how he thought about it.

“Dad, I can come up with ten yuan, but don’t you need to think about my older brothers? Ten yuan a month, that’s 120 yuan a year. Can they afford that? I remember my eldest brother works as an accountant in the village, and he only gets a five yuan subsidy a month. As for my second brother, he’s lucky if he earns 30 yuan a year. Are you really going to make my eldest and second brothers borrow money every year just for their retirement?” Zhou Bingchen smiled and said.

Zhou Fugui was so angry he almost fell backward.

What Zhou Bingchen meant by this was that he would contribute the same amount as Zhou Bingqiang and Zhou Bingxing. Zhou Bingchen would not contribute a single penny more.

"Uncle Fugui, let me be fair. The highest standard for elderly care in our Zhoujia Village is currently 200 catties of grain per year from each son. That's ten or twenty yuan a month for retirement, which is simply unaffordable for anyone. No, not just in our Zhoujia Village, but in the entire Qingshan County, no one can afford such a high retirement allowance." Zhou Dazhu couldn't stand it anymore and couldn't help but complain.

"Then... shall we follow the rules of Zhoujia Village and give each family two hundred catties of grain a year?" Zhou Fugui looked at his eldest son, then at his second son, and asked.

"Dad, that's fine." Zhou Bingqiang nodded and said.

“Dad, I think it’s okay.” Zhou Bingxing had no objections.

“Dad, I live far away, so I’ll give you cash instead of the grain I harvest each year! Twenty yuan a year, how about that?” Zhou Bingchen agreed and even thoughtfully offered a cash conversion plan.