On Mother's Day, there was an "Exchange Love for Items" event on the roadside. My younger brother was clamoring to exchange for an ice cream. I wanted to take him to the nearby supermarket to buy one. But Mom stopped me: "Why waste that money? Just exchange your love for it, wouldn't that be better?" I couldn't believe it and confirmed again: "My love for you?" Mom said indifferently: "What do I need that useless thing for? Might as well exchange it for an ice cream to make your brother happy." I glanced at the promotional poster and nodded in agreement. Fine, then I'll satisfy Mom's wish one last time. 1 "Are you sure you want to exchange your daughter's love for you for an ice cream? Once confirmed, this transaction cannot be reversed," the staff member confirmed again. Mom nodded without a trace of hesitation: "It's just a fake thing anyway. Keeping it isn't as useful as exchanging it for something practical." Listening to Mom's brisk words, my heart felt like it was being repeatedly tortured by a dull knife. But the next second, Mom's expression changed when she got the procedure form, and she prepared to turn and leave: "Forget it, forget it." Although I knew it was because the procedure was too cumbersome, I still breathed a sigh of relief. At least, I could still fantasize that Mom was a little bit reluctant to let go of me. Hearing this, my brother sat on the ground. At eighteen, he started throwing a tantrum like a child: "I want to exchange for ice cream! Ice cream! Ice cream!" I hurried to pull him up, comforting him gently: "Justin, if you want ice cream, I'll take you to the supermarket next door to buy it." But Justin wouldn't agree no matter what. Sitting on the ground hugging Mom's leg, he started wailing: "I want this one! I want this exchanged ice cream!" I instantly understood. He didn't necessarily want to eat it; he did it on purpose. Since childhood, he liked to snatch my things and do things I didn't want to see. He said he would be angry if I went on family trips, so I never traveled with the family. At home, my room was just his storage room. Just because he wanted to occupy my room as a toy room, I could only sleep in the utility room. And Mom never cared about my feelings, always trying her best to satisfy him. And my momentary resistance out of extreme grievance would only be met with: "He's your brother, what's wrong with letting him have his way?" This time, as expected, Mom compromised for him again. "Okay, okay, okay, baby!" "Get up quickly, the ground is dirty. Don't get germs on you, my ancestor." After Mom agreed, Justin finally stood up, looking at me with triumph in his eyes, and even mouthed provocatively: "See, I'm going to use your love to exchange for ice cream, hehe." I involuntarily clenched my fists. Mom got back in line and said impatiently to me: "What are you standing there stupidly for? Hurry up and come over!" "I finally coaxed your brother, can't let him cry again." I walked to Mom somewhat distractedly, comforting myself that this "Exchange Love for Items" was just a gimmick. A person's emotions and subjective feelings are formed over a long time. How could they be deprived so easily? Mom probably thought so too, which is why she agreed. But the next second, I heard the staff member speak. "Our event is realized by the latest technological means. It has been proven by tens of thousands of experiments. There is no room for regret. I confirm again, are you sure you want to exchange your daughter's love for you for an ice cream?" I also saw the dense list of famous research institutes, top professors, and famous companies. The exchange process would be shown in the form of a live broadcast. I was shocked. Perhaps my love for my mother could really disappear because of an ice cream. Before I could recover from the shock, I heard Mom say: "If it's real, then it's real. As long as it makes my son happy, I'm willing. Everything else doesn't matter." 2 Everything else doesn't matter. This sentence was like a thunderclap, exploding in my ear. It turned out that to Mom, I was just something that didn't matter. I glanced at the line of bold red small print at the bottom of the poster: If the transaction is successful, the legal relationship between both parties will also be dissolved. Mom seemed not to have seen it or maybe didn't care. She immediately signed the agreement, glaring at me to urge me to hurry up. My heart was sour. I finally realized that the motherly love I bitterly craved might never be obtained from Mom. Then the disappearance of this love might be the best arrangement. I didn't hesitate anymore and signed the agreement too. Following the staff into the house, I realized this was really a studio, and I could see real-time bullet comments. Mom and I were taken to machines on both sides of the stage respectively. A voice sounded on the scene. "We will extract memories and judge whether this transaction is worth it through real-time voting." Mom didn't expect it to be so cumbersome, with live voting, and hesitated again. But Justin was very happy, shouting at Mom. "Mom, great! There are so many people online! You must perform well. Maybe we can become internet celebrities and never worry about food and drink by livestreaming sales in the future!" Mom, who was originally hesitant, suddenly beamed with joy. The live bullet comments also started to scroll. "Did I see it right? Exchange daughter's love for an ice cream? Is this a joke?" "Who knows if there's something wrong with this daughter? What mother doesn't love her children? Maybe the mother was driven to the limit to make the transaction." "Looks like a family that values sons over daughters at first glance." "I think so too. Who doesn't have money for an ice cream? The mother must have her own difficulties." Opinions in the comments varied, and the votes were split half and half. Mom and I also learned the rules of memory extraction from the machine. Everyone can choose memory fragments to promote or prevent the transaction. Seeing that the votes were not enough, Justin drooped his eyebrows. Mom hurriedly entered a time to extract a memory. The big screen also began to play the first fragment. Little me was crying endlessly, and in front of me was an overturned table of food, a mess at a glance. "Told you to be sensible. Now great, no one can eat." "Girls are just trouble. All day long only thinking about yourself. Now everyone can't eat and you're still crying!" "How many times has this been? Every time we eat, there's no peace. How can there be such an insensible child like you?" The voices came from Mom, Dad, and Grandma respectively. From the perspective of the memory owner, I saw several adults frowning and surrounding me. And little me, hearing these harsh criticisms, dared not cry anymore, only silently lowering my head and pouting without saying a word. In the background sound, there was also my brother's childish crying, getting louder and louder. The video ended here, and the comments started to get active. "I said she was trouble since childhood. No wonder a mother would rather exchange for an ice cream." "I think so too. This daughter's love might not even be worth an ice cream." "It's normal for such a young age not to be sensible, right?" "Not necessarily. From the video, flipping the table happened more than once. Maybe she's born with XYY syndrome!" At this time, the real-time voting also tilted appropriately towards Mom, with 55% of people in favor of the transaction. Justin was extremely happy and winked at Mom, signaling her to pursue the victory. 3 Mom couldn't wait to enter the second time period. The big screen began to play the second memory. This was me in middle school. In front of me was another mess. Only this time, what was overturned was not the dining table, but clothes and supplies all over the floor of the room, as well as various broken household items. Grandma pointed at me with a broom and scolded: "Prodigal girl! Only know how to bully your brother. Look at what you've done to this home!" Dad, lying on the sofa playing with his phone, also followed: "No peace all day long. I work hard every day to earn money for you, and come back to hear these annoying things. Can't you let me have a peaceful day?" Mom dragged me directly by my clothes and threw me on the messy floor: "Find a way to clean it up yourself! If you don't clean it up, don't eat!" After she finished speaking, the background sound was still a little boy's crying. Mom ran over distressedly to hug him, comforting him softly: "Good baby, it's all her fault. Don't cry." The video ended here. The netizens who said I was born with XYY syndrome just now were more active. "See, I said it. How can there be a mother in the world who hates her own child? There must be something wrong with her!" "This girl not only flipped tables when she was little, but also smashed the house when she grew up, making the family restless. What family can withstand her doing this?" Some people wanted to defend me. "Maybe she also had reasons..." "The child became like this, don't adults have some responsibility?" The real-time votes still didn't increase much, but there were more and more viewers, all sticking to their own opinions. Justin panicked a little, walked to Mom's side and whispered: "Mom, we can do without this ice cream, but we absolutely can't lose face here! Don't forget, if we perform well, we can livestream sales, and there will be endless money in the future!" "When we have money in the future, I'll buy a big house for you, Dad, and Grandma. Our whole family will travel everywhere. I can also marry a beautiful wife and give you a bunch of grandsons then." Mom seemed to fall into the beautiful future woven by Justin, and her face was full of smiles. But when she looked up at me again, her eyes were filled with thick anger and hostility. That glance made my heart tremble fiercely. I wanted to tell Mom, I am your daughter, not your enemy. I just want your love, but I never thought of harming you. But Mom didn't seem to receive my thoughts. When Mom was about to raise her hand to press the button again, I couldn't help shouting: "Mom!" Mom also heard my call, but her eyes flashed, and she said angrily to me: "What Mom? If it weren't for you, a family-disrupting spirit, how could the family be in such chaos? As long as you are here, the family will never have peace! Either flipping tables and cabinets or bullying your brother! You still have the face to call me Mom?" "The family has always given you whatever we have, feeding you, clothing you, and sending you to school. But what have you done for this family until now?" Saying this, Mom actually covered her face and wept. Comments rolled. "The family didn't treat her badly either. What is she dissatisfied with?" "This family doesn't look rich either. Being able to give their daughter such a life is already very good. Don't know what she's fussing about?" "Yeah, we didn't have such conditions before. Born in blessings but not knowing blessings!" I froze for a moment. The sourness and grievance in my chest surged from my heart, but thousands of words were stuck in my throat by Mom's scolding, unable to dissipate or be spat out. At this time, the votes in favor of the transaction began to increase significantly, suddenly reaching 70%. 4 Seeing the votes increase, Mom had an obvious smile on her face. I couldn't smile. I used almost all my strength to barely hold back my tears. This was my involuntary habit. Because Mom hated my crying look the most, no matter how much grievance I suffered, I habitually endured it. But I didn't expect that when Mom looked at me with moist eyes again, there was no pity at all. She still stared at me with the eyes of looking at an enemy. At this time, some netizens raised different opinions. "Don't you think it's weird? If she's so violent, why hasn't she dared to say a harsh word to her mom until now?" "Indeed, she keeps her head down and doesn't dare to look at people. Doesn't look like someone who would smash things at home." "And from the video, we didn't see the process, only the scene of the whole family blaming her. Could there be some hidden story?" Mom also saw it and immediately turned to me to continue questioning calmly: "Say it yourself, was the dining table overturned because of you? Was the room messed up because of you?" I looked at her in disbelief. But her gaze was a threat, a coercion, a commanding from above. I couldn't help lowering my head, daring not look into her eyes again. This was Mom's usual method. She knew she didn't need to do anything, just look at me calmly like this, and I would obediently listen. This was a habit I couldn't give up. I craved her love too much, so I never dared to go against her wishes. But this time, I really didn't want to cater to her anymore, but my throat seemed to be blocked by something, and I couldn't say a word. Seeing me silent, Mom asked continuously: "Was flipping the table because of you? Was smashing the room because of you?" "Was flipping the table because of you? Was smashing the room because of you?" In the empty studio, only Mom's resonant interrogation rang in my ears word by word. Even if the tone was flat, it was like big stones smashing on my head. I felt I could hardly breathe. The second time she asked, I couldn't hold it anymore and had to whisper: "It was because of me." At this time, the real-time voting climbed instantly, reaching 80%. Mom and Justin smiled at each other. The discussion in the comments became more and more heated. "Seems this daughter indeed has problems. Has violent tendencies since childhood. Might commit domestic violence in the future." "Looking at her face, she's not an honest person. Look at what she's wearing, showing arms and legs." "Such a girl will probably have a hard time finding a husband in the future. Who dares to marry such a woman?" "Just a family disruptor! Exchanging for an ice cream is overrating her." Votes continued to climb, and the comments were all criticism and even abuse of me. My heart fell into an ice cave. Just when Mom and Justin were triumphant, thinking everything was under control. The mechanical sound on the scene sounded again: "Now exchange, will extract memories related to Emily." "Emily?" "Is it the Emily I'm thinking of? The one with the name meaning 'Bring a Brother'?" The comments rolled and repeated this name that accompanied me for twenty-five years. Every word rolling revealed shock and doubt. Mom and Justin also realized something was wrong, and their faces suddenly became poor. "I initiated the transaction. Why extract her memories?" The voting also changed, and the approval ratio was slowly decreasing.
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