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Wang Zhuo’s father was named Wang Zhengdao, after the last line of a seven-character regulated verse written by the Chairman in '49: The right path for humanity is profound change. Wang Zhengdao’s life, much like his name suggested, was a constant turning of the tides, subject to immense and unpredictable shifts.

When Wang Zhengdao was young, he was strikingly handsome and possessed an open, enthusiastic nature, which made him quite popular with women. However, this excessive charm also led to some incidents during his university days, forcing him to withdraw from school.

After leaving school, Wang Zhengdao took over the family’s traditional Chinese medicine shop. Because of the Chairman’s decree that Western medicine should prevail, the TCM business was lukewarm, and the Wang family never became wealthy, remaining comfortably middle-class.

Later, Wang Zhengdao married and had Wang Zhuo. Eventually, Wang Zhengdao’s lady-killer reputation stirred up trouble again; he was caught in the act of an affair.

In a fit of rage, his wife divorced him and left the city, moving far away. Suddenly single again, Wang Zhengdao thrived, living completely unrestrained.

Countless older women fluttered around Wang Zhuo like butterflies. Some remarked that it was fortunate Wang Zhuo only resembled his father by about fifty percent, otherwise, he’d surely become a master of romance himself.

By then, the grandfather had already passed away, and Wang Zhuo lived with his grandmother, largely ignoring their presence. There’s an old saying: relationships not aimed at marriage are just dalliances.

Thus, Wang Zhengdao was a dallier. After years of this behavior, trouble finally found him, and it was a massive disaster: he was having an affair with the wife of a judge and was discovered.

This judge was in a critical phase of his career ascent—vigorous, full of high spirits, and possessing formidable connections. Upon discovering the affair, he immediately deployed a ruthlessly unexpected tactic.

He arranged for people to gather evidence of his wife’s infidelity with Wang Zhengdao, then sent his wife to a mental hospital, getting her officially diagnosed as mentally ill and altering her records to show a history of psychiatric disorder. Criminal law stipulates that knowingly engaging in sexual relations with a mentally ill person is treated as rape.

This turned Wang Zhengdao’s affair into a case of sexual assault. As for his defense—claiming ignorance of her mental condition—the presiding judge naturally refused to accept it!

This was not all. The slighted husband also pinned the charge of practicing medicine without a license on Wang Zhengdao.

Wang Zhengdao merely sold herbs; he had never prescribed a single dose. Yet, two people Wang Zhengdao had never met suddenly appeared to testify that they had used prescriptions he had written!

As the old saying goes: A local magistrate can ruin a family; a regional governor can destroy a clan. A judge at the department-director level might not seem powerful, but dealing with a powerless commoner like Wang Zhengdao was child’s play.

And so, Wang Zhengdao was sentenced to ten years in prison to eat the state’s rice. When Wang Zhengdao was first imprisoned, Wang Zhuo believed his father deserved the suffering he brought upon himself.

But after more than four years had passed, every time he visited, seeing his father’s frail body and haggard face, Wang Zhuo had long since forgiven him. Wang Zhengdao was indeed at fault, but the punishment he received was more than sufficient.

From behind the television set, Wang Zhuo retrieved a dust-covered address book and dialed a number belonging to someone named "Old Blade." The other end of the line was noisy, and a slightly impatient, grim voice answered, "Hello, who is this?" "Uncle Daozi, it’s Wang Zhuo. I need to talk to you about something," Wang Zhuo said briefly.

"Hold on a second." The grim voice of Uncle Daozi quickly moved away from the commotion and said, "Alright, go ahead. What is it?" Wang Zhuo cut straight to the chase: "I need to get a sentence reduction for my dad.

I wanted to ask for your asking price first." Daozi’s real name was Ding Ren. When he was young, he got the nickname Old Knife.

He and Wang Zhengdao were neighbors on the old street, but only acquaintances, not childhood friends. The year Wang Zhengdao dropped out of school, Ding Ren went to prison for robbery.

After his release, he somehow got connected with some major figure and, within a few years, was flourishing. When Wang Zhengdao was first sentenced, Old Daozi had come by and offered to help with the sentence reduction.

But at that time, the Wang family had already paid fines, compensated the victim’s losses, and even had the medicine shop seized and sold by the court. They were left with only a small apartment for Wang Zhuo and his grandmother to live in.

Even selling that wouldn't cover the cost for a two-year reduction, so the sentence reduction plan fizzled out. Ding Ren chuckled and asked, "Kid, you got money now?

The going rate isn't cheap these days." "Money is negotiable. Tell me the price.

My dad has served over five years; he got six months off, so he has just over four years left." Although Wang Zhuo hadn't reached the stage of viewing wealth as mere dirt, raising several hundred thousand yuan was not an insurmountable problem for him now. Ding Ren didn't ask about the source of the money and stated directly, "Starting fee is fifty thousand, and a hundred thousand per year." This price wasn't cheap, but it wasn't exorbitant either.

Wang Zhuo asked again, "When is the absolute earliest he could get out?" This time Ding Ren fell silent for a moment, likely weighing his options and calculating. After a while, he finally said, "Probably before National Day, but it’ll cost more—a flat five hundred thousand.

Also, the slots are tight recently, so if you want it done, hurry up, or it might drag past New Year's Day." It was the last few days of May. A prisoner with four years remaining on his sentence could be out in four months if this wasn't a scam.

Ding Ren truly seemed omnipotent. Wang Zhuo didn't hesitate: "Fine.

I'll find you in two days." "Deal, that settles it then." Ding Ren added, "You know the rules: payment first, then the work. If it doesn't work out, I refund you.

That’s it. I’ll wait for your call." Hanging up, Wang Zhuo let out a breath, feeling a rush of excitement.

Loyalty, Filial Piety, Benevolence, and Righteousness are the four pillars of Chinese tradition, with Loyalty taking the lead. From childhood, he was taught to love his country first.

Wang Zhuo was young and hadn't deeply felt this, but today, he suddenly grasped the meaning of Filial Piety. In this age of moral decay, helping an elderly woman who had fallen only to be extorted is the opposite of Benevolence; not helping is deemed unjust.

Stories abound of brothers stabbing each other in the back after mutual favors, making indifference seem like a lack of Righteousness. Traitors selling out the country for personal gain emerge endlessly, causing the nation losses in the hundreds of billions.

News reports surface regularly of elderly parents suing their children for refusing support—unfilial sons and daughters are as numerous this year as firecrackers. Wang Zhuo resolved to take time in the coming days to visit his grandparents' graves, burn a few stacks of joss paper for his father, and lay a bouquet of fresh flowers.

The phone rang; it was his paternal aunt. Wang Zhuo paused, rejected the call, and sent her a reassuring text: asking her to focus on her rest and not overthink anything, emphasizing that recovery was the primary goal—where there is life, there is hope.

His aunt replied quickly, first thanking him for the hospital fees, then complaining that he had spent too much, saying a private room wasn't necessary. "Money is just a bastard thing; we’ll earn more after we spend it.

Auntie, get some good rest. I’ll come see you tomorrow.

Good night." After a long moment, the aunt replied with four words: Thank you, good night.