Raising the Neighbor’s Son Through Four Years of College – Now That He’s Wealthy, He Never Visits My Father, Yet My Dad Says: ‘It’s Better That Way!’

"He doesn’t need to repay us, but at least he could visit my father. Now that he’s living comfortably, he’s forgotten all the kindness he once received—how ungrateful!" his biological son said with resentment.

 

 

When I was 20, a heartbreaking incident happened in my village. Our next-door neighbors tragically passed away from carbon monoxide poisoning on a freezing winter night. They left behind a son named Quân, who was five years younger than me. At that time, he was just 15 years old, a high school freshman, and an excellent student. That sudden tragedy changed Quân’s life forever.

After Quân’s parents' funeral, relatives and villagers helped with the arrangements. My father didn’t immediately think of taking him in since he still had an uncle and a maternal uncle. Initially, Quân stayed with his relatives, but conflicts arose over time, and he eventually decided to live alone in his parents' house. Seeing him struggle by himself, my parents took him in as a foster son, offering him food, guidance, and emotional support.

Supporting Quân Through College

After high school, Quân passed his university entrance exams and wanted to continue his studies. However, his uncles disapproved, insisting that he should work in the coal mines for a stable income. For the first time, Quân stood his ground, determined to pursue education. In the end, my father stepped in to support him financially, covering his tuition and living expenses for four years.

At that time, my father gave him 3,000 yuan per month (about 10 million VND), which was a significant amount given my father’s modest income. Despite this, he willingly helped. As Quân started working part-time, he tried repaying small amounts whenever he visited home, but my father always refused. In fact, before each school year began, my father would give him another 3,000 yuan. Quân was always grateful.

After graduating, he stayed in the city for work. In the early years, he would return home often, bringing gifts and nutritious food. Within the first two years of working, he even repaid my father a total of 150,000 yuan (about 500 million VND). Although my father initially refused, he eventually accepted to make Quân feel at ease.

However, over time, Quân’s visits became less frequent.

A Wedding Gift and a Final Visit

As Quân reached marriageable age, he returned to introduce his fiancée and visit his old home. He also stopped by our house to see my parents. Upon hearing about his upcoming wedding, my father took out 1,000 yuan and told him, "If you need more for the wedding, just let me know." But this time, Quân refused, saying, "I’m doing well now, Dad. I have a house, money—I’m not struggling anymore. You’ve done too much for me already, I can’t take more."

He invited my father to his wedding, saying, "I’m not having a ceremony in the village since there aren’t many people here. We’ll be celebrating in the city—if you’re feeling well, please come." My father smiled and agreed.

After a brief chat, Quân and his fiancée left. Watching their car disappear into the distance, my father turned to me and said, "He’s had a tough life. When he gets married, make sure to send double the wedding gift." I nodded and transferred 1,300 yuan—1,000 from my father and 300 from me.

The ‘Foster Son’ Who Disappeared

After the wedding, it was as if Quân had vanished. No calls, no visits. Four years passed, and while my father never mentioned him, I couldn’t help but wonder: "Why hasn’t Quân come back or even called?"

My father simply replied, "It’s the same for you—you’re busy with your own life. Do you really expect him to visit?"

I chuckled but still felt indignant. "His parents are gone. You were the only one who truly cared for him, who supported him through school. He doesn’t need to repay you, but he should at least visit. Now that he’s successful, he’s forgotten everything—how heartless!"

But my father only laughed and said something unexpected: "It’s better that he doesn’t come back."

I was taken aback. He continued, "If he doesn’t visit, it means he’s doing well, keeping busy, and not wandering aimlessly. And think about it—every time he came home, he always brought expensive gifts. If I accepted them, I’d feel guilty. If I refused, he had already bought them. I don’t want to burden him or expect anything. He has his own life now. If he doesn’t visit, it means he’s happy. That’s enough for me."

I asked if he ever felt hurt, but he just smiled and said, "I helped him back then not because I expected him to repay me. It was just a small thing, nothing worth mentioning. They say true kindness asks for nothing in return. If you help someone, don’t hold onto it."

At the time, I didn’t fully grasp his words. I felt it was unfair that someone who had given so much received so little in return. But as I grew older and faced similar experiences, I finally understood—true kindness is given without expecting anything back.

My father had done a great deed without seeking rewards. Perhaps, that is the most profound kind of generosity.

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This heartfelt story, originally shared by Mr. Zhang on NetEase, has touched many readers across China.