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Revenge of the Son-in-Law: Living Like a Dog in This Home
墨書 Inktalez
Jia Mingdai stood at the entrance of Shuangzhong Village, clutching a worn-out duffel bag, the taste of the Gobi Desert from Xinjiang still lingering on him.
It had been three years—exactly three years—since he returned to this place that felt both familiar and foreign. At 35, Jia Mingdai was not unattractive, but he was certainly unremarkable. He was of average height, his skin darkened by the harsh sun of the northwest, and his eyes carried an indescribable hint of timidity.
Everyone in the village knew he was a "door-in" son-in-law, having married into the Guo Family from Jiazhuang Village in Fengtang Township. Jia Mingdai once thought "door-in" was merely a label, but over the years, he came to understand what those three words truly meant—he would always be an outsider.
"Remember this," Old Guo had said, pointing a finger at him. "You may be surnamed Jia, but in this family, you are one of the Guos. Your wife and children bear the Guo name; if you don't behave yourself, you can leave anytime!"
At that time, Jia Mingdai was young and believed his father-in-law was just trying to assert his authority. He thought things would get better with time. However, twelve years later, his status in the family had not improved; instead, he felt more like a guest.
The villagers never called him by his name; they referred to him as "the guest of the Guo Family." Each time he heard that title, it felt like a needle pricking his heart. What hurt even more was that even his own son and daughter took their mother's surname, leading the villagers to say, "These are the roots of the Guo Family; they have nothing to do with Jia Mingdai."
Later on, in an effort to change his family's financial situation and escape this oppressive life, Jia Mingdai chose to work in Xinjiang. When he left, his mother-in-law coldly remarked, "Go ahead; you’re just a burden at home anyway." Those words pierced deeply into Jia Mingdai's heart.
Life in Xinjiang was not easy. On construction sites in Urumqi, he worked over ten hours a day. At night, returning to the shabby worker's dormitory, his only solace was opening his phone to read messages from his wife. But as time went on, those messages became fewer and eventually stopped altogether.
"What is my wife doing?" Jia Mingdai sent a WeChat message to Guo Xiaofang.
After a long wait, she replied simply: "Busy."
"I miss you all."
After sending that message, there was no response. In that moment, sitting in the worker's dormitory in Xinjiang, Jia Mingdai thought perhaps he truly was an unnecessary person.
In November 2013, Jia Mingdai finally saved enough money and decided to return home.
On the first day back, his four-year-old daughter hid behind her grandmother as soon as she saw him, while his eight-year-old son ran away.
"Mom, who is this uncle?" his daughter asked timidly.
Hearing his daughter refer to him as "uncle" shattered Jia Mingdai's heart. His wife, Guo Xiaofang, greeted him politely, but that politeness only made him feel more estranged.
His father-in-law, Old Guo, wore the same disdainful expression as always. "You're back? How much money did you bring?"
"Over thirty thousand," Jia Mingdai replied cautiously.
"Only thirty thousand? You earned just thirty thousand in three years?" His mother-in-law scoffed. "Li Er Gou next door can earn fifty thousand in a year."
Jia Mingdai wanted to explain that besides sending money home over the past three years, he had little left for himself, but the words caught in his throat.
The days after Jia Mingdai returned home were even more painful than those he spent in Xinjiang. Early the next morning, he got up to prepare breakfast. He thought perhaps a warm meal would change his family's perception of him.
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