Chapter 5

The moment I stepped through the door, a palpable cloud of gloom hung over the house.

Dad sat on the couch smoking, and Mom was scratching her head, staring at the computer screen.

Seeing me, they exchanged a look and forced out weak, artificial smiles.

They were about to speak, but I waved a hand, cutting them off.

"Stop pretending. I know your business is in trouble."

My parents ran a traditional manufacturing business that had been hit hard by the internet revolution.

They'd sunk all their capital into a project that had gone wrong.

Now, their cash flow was about to dry up, and they faced a difficult choice.

One was to risk it all again.

The other was to liquidate all their assets, cover their debts, and close shop for good.

In my past life, my parents, unwilling to give up, chose to risk it again.

They lost everything, down to their last penny. My dad, already stressed, smoked himself sick with lung cancer.

My mom tried to bounce back, but any money she earned was immediately used to pay off debts, making even basic living difficult.

So this time, I cut them off directly and told them the outcome.

"Dad, Mom, stop struggling. You've fallen behind the times. The factory business won't get any better."

Artificial intelligence was developing too fast, delivering a devastating blow to traditional industries.

My parents' mindset couldn't adapt, so their downfall was almost inevitable.

They were shocked when I suggested closing the business.

"What do you know? You've never been involved in the family business."

"Exactly! I asked Mr. Williams and Mr. Garcia, and they both said they'd help us if we wanted to risk it again."

Yes, those 'uncles' did help.

And later, they became regular debt collectors.

I smiled bitterly.

"Come on, Dad, Mom, let me tell you why I'm saying this."

Hugging my knees on the couch, I told them everything that had happened in my past life.

There was no need to hide anything from my closest family.

My parents were deeply affected, especially my dad, who started to cry.

"So, sweetie, for the next ten years, you were washing dishes and paying off debts? And you died alone in a hospital because you couldn't afford treatment?"

He gripped my hand, trembling. My mom didn't speak, her head bowed for a long time.

Finally, she looked up, both crying and laughing.

"Okay. This time, we'll listen to our sweetie. No more struggling."