The longer time passed, the more Chen Meihua couldn't bear the sense of disparity. Fang Zhiyi wasn't her biological father, so she didn’t care about him. After a heated argument with someone, she essentially tore off her own carefully constructed facade.
She decided to sue Fang Zhiyi—accusing him of tarnishing her reputation, of not only refusing to support the family but even demanding money from them! She wanted to expose the old man’s hypocrisy and show the world his true colors!
No lawyer would take such baseless accusations, but Chen Meihua, now in full self-destructive mode, didn’t care. She took to the internet, posting a long rant about how wonderful her life with her husband had been, how well they’d raised their children—until Fang Zhiyi came along and ruined everything. She claimed he beat her husband, deprived them of sleep, and even made them pay for their own meals.
The children, following their example, had since distanced themselves.
And when Fang Zhiyi left, she said, he slandered them, turning people against them until their lives became unbearable.
Her lengthy post went viral, earning her a brief moment of fame.
Netizens began dissecting the story, some even trying to reach out to Fang Zhiyi for his side. But he remained silent.
Chen Meihua felt as if a weight had been lifted from her chest.
There was still hope! If people believed her, she could turn things around! After all the good deeds she’d done, she was now the victim—surely, others would rally to her side!
But the next day, her husband Fang Jianguo slapped her awake.
Staring at his furious face, Chen Meihua was stunned. Fang Jianguo had never laid a finger on her before.
“What have you done?!” he roared, throwing his phone at her. “Look at this!”
Trembling, she picked it up—and her eyes widened in horror.
Overnight, her post had been torn apart. The tide of public opinion, which had briefly swayed in her favor, had now turned violently against her.
The internet’s relentless detectives dug up Fang Jianguo and Chen Meihua’s past. They’d always made sure their good deeds were well-documented, so their history was easy to trace—which initially lent credibility to her claims.
But then the first insider spoke up, revealing how the couple had forced their own children to wear tattered clothes and old backpacks, eating nothing but plain rice, all while donating money to others.
A second and third witness followed.
Some said they’d borrowed money just to fund their charity acts.
A vegetable vendor claimed to have met Chen Meihua, the “great philanthropist,” who would show up at the market just before closing, sometimes picking through discarded rotten vegetables. When asked, she’d say, “The kids are healthy—they can handle spoiled food. I gave the grocery money to an old scrap-collecting granny.”
Still, this only fueled online debates. What truly turned the tide was a video from a student in an impoverished mountain region.
Filmed by someone else, the dark-skinned boy fidgeted nervously before the camera but spoke with resolve.
“I’m one of the kids Grandpa Fang Zhiyi helped,” he said, explaining how Fang Zhiyi had reached out, guided him, and even showed off his humble home.
More voices emerged—people Fang Zhiyi had quietly supported over the years.
A man who’d nearly committed suicide after a business failure recounted how Fang Zhiyi had stopped him, lent him 100 yuan with a handwritten IOU, and introduced him to a mentor.
A charity organization shared records of Fang Zhiyi’s modest but consistent monthly donations, often including odd change.
The contrast was undeniable: Fang Zhiyi helped others without fanfare, while Chen Meihua and Fang Jianguo chased fame and praise.
“How… When did he do all this? Where did he get the money?” Chen Meihua whimpered, on the verge of tears.
“Look what you’ve done! I got fired today! My boss gave me a month to repay everything!” Fang Jianguo was livid. He couldn’t understand why she’d blown up their lives when they could’ve just waited out the storm—or why his father had hidden so much from them.
In the aftermath, Fang Xiao, Fang Yang, and Fang Yue moved out, joining Fang Zhiyi in his rented home. Fang Jianguo, though resentful, had been humiliated too many times to protest. He even swallowed his pride to apologize—but Fang Zhiyi refused to see him.
“You’re not sorry. You’re just scared,” a server relayed the old man’s words.
Overnight, Fang Jianguo sold their house at a loss and fled with Chen Meihua, leaving debts unpaid.
Years later, Fang Xiao built a small business and took over his siblings’ expenses. He often urged his now-frail grandfather to retire from running his modest eatery.
“I’ll do good where I can. I still have strength,” Fang Zhiyi would reply.
One day, Fang Xiao was stopped by a stranger. After a long pause, he recognized them—his “philanthropist” parents.
Fang Jianguo and Chen Meihua had relocated but hadn’t changed. Still obsessed with playing saints, they had fallen for another scam and ended up in an illegal coal mine after offering to help a “struggling” coworker.
Having barely escaped, they tracked down Fang Xiao, hoping to leech off his success.
At the dinner table, Fang Xiao smiled coldly as they stared at their bowls of plain rice and pickles.
“Mom, Dad, bear with it. Every bite we save means Grandpa’s charity kitchen can feed one more person in need.”
Fang Jianguo froze. Chen Meihua hung her head.
“We’ll take care of you,” Fang Xiao said, standing to leave. “Fang Yang will. Fang Yue will. Just like you wanted—we’re all great humanitarians now.”
A chill ran down Fang Jianguo’s spine. Chen Meihua’s lips trembled, her eyes filled with regret.