My hometown lies in one of China's economically lagging regions, a small city of just 140,000 people. Our family was considered middle-class locally: my father, a mid-level police official, held sway in a town where everyone knew each other; my retired mother received a solid pension; I worked for a state-owned enterprise, and my wife served in the police force. In a place where many struggled, our dual incomes and bureaucratic ties felt like a fortress.
Eight years ago, I stumbled onto online football betting. Over eight years, I gambled five times, losing $30,000–$40,000 (¥200,000–300,000) each time. My parents always paid off the debts, alternating between beatings, scoldings, and lectures. Gambling is illegal in China—conviction means prison, and a criminal record bars children from top universities, civil service, or government jobs (a "generational penalty" to deter crime). I regretted every time, yet addiction pulled me back.
After marrying in October 2023, my wife managed our finances—a common practice in Chinese marriages, where wives control household budgets to prevent waste. Starved for spending money, I returned to gambling. By May 28 this year, my funds dried up. Chinese online loans are quick (5-minute approvals) but carry usurious rates. After borrowing frantically, I was blacklisted as a high-risk borrower. When I begged my parents for money with flimsy excuses, they forced a confession. This time, they refused to pay: "You're married—face the consequences."
My annual income was only $10,000 (¥70,000), but I'd lost ¥200,000+ in a year. My mother wept, fearing I was beyond redemption. My father didn't shout; he talked calmly. My wife forgave me—divorcing at 30 would limit her options in China's age-conscious society.
Looking at my parents' haggard faces, guilt consumed me. Though my wife pardoned me, her eyes held pain. I began working double-time: besides my day job, I drove for Didi and delivered food. At night, exhausted, I vowed never to gamble again.
Debt collectors' calls persisted, and relatives whispered. Once, delivering food, I fell and gashed my knee. I nearly collapsed, but thoughts of family kept me standing. As I repaid debts bit by bit, my parents smiled again. I'm determined to atone, rebuild trust, and start afresh.
Cultural Notes for Foreign Readers:
1. State-Owned Enterprises (SOEs): Central to China's economy, SOEs provide stable "iron rice bowl" jobs.
2. Generational Penalties: A unique legal-social mechanism; a parent's criminal record affects children's eligibility for elite institutions or government roles.
3. Spousal Financial Management: Wives often control family finances in China, rooted in traditions of female household budgeting.
4. Online Lending: Unregulated P2P loans thrive despite high interest (often >36%), trapping gamblers in cycles of debt.
This narrative balances personal story with cultural context, using accessible English to explain China's social norms without patronizing readers.