Why do many fathers in Chinese families end up becoming the most silent men? I saw a video where someone said, my dad is the quietest man in the world. Since marrying my mom, he has seemed to automatically lose his right to speak. In our family, not even hotpot can be decided by oneself; when to add meat, when to eat vegetables, how much each person should eat—all are uniformly arranged by my mom. A hotpot meal feels like a meeting. My grandparents, my dad, and I each go about our tasks as assigned by her, just to gain a little peace of mind. She not only manages the household but also, when dining out, serves dishes to a table of strangers, arranges the food, and tries to liven up the atmosphere, tormenting even social anxiety sufferers to sit uncomfortably. Later, when my grandparents passed away, I got married and moved out, leaving only my dad and a dog at home. My dad became increasingly silent, and whenever something happened, he only said, “Ask your mom.” Even when he was sick and hospitalized, when the doctor asked where he was uncomfortable, he was too lazy to speak, and my mom answered for him the entire time. Looking back, I realize that all these years, my mom has been directing everything, and all of us have been cooperating. Over time, silence is no longer a personality trait but has become a way of survival. In a family, when one person gets used to arranging everything, and others get used to obeying everything, what is lost in the end is not the right to speak but the ability to express oneself.