He rubbed his face with both hands, drew a deep breath, then let it out slowly, as though trying to expel the weight lodged in his chest.
"Mr. Wen, thank you for telling me all this."
He lowered his hands and leaned back in his chair. It was as though something holding him up had been pulled away, and his shoulders sagged completely.
After a long silence, he suddenly gave a bitter chuckle, tinged with self-mockery and the helplessness life had forced upon him.
"The truth is, there isn't much I can do, either."
Wen Ning didn't interrupt, waiting for him to continue.
Zhao looked down at the hands resting on his knees. They were large and rough.
"When you reach middle age, it sounds nice enough to say you've got parents to care for and children to raise. But really, it just means you can't quite manage either.
My career's going nowhere, but it's not a total disaster, either. I get the same little paycheck every month, and once the mortgage and car payments come out, there's barely anything left."
He looked up at Wen Ning, no longer hiding anything in his eyes. He had let down his guard.
"I want to give my mother a better life. Who wouldn't? But how am I supposed to do it? Rent her a place of her own?
You know what rents are like around here. Even a one-bedroom costs over a thousand a month. How much do I make? Hire someone to care for her? That's even further out of reach. Our place is only so big, and we don't have a spare bedroom."
He shook his head, his voice dropping even lower.
"My younger sister's in much the same boat. She's married, and she has her husband's parents to look