Old Master Zhang’s eyes started to shimr with tears as he spoke. I looked at my father, who had beco like this due to his disappointnt in ; only then did I notice the white hairs beginning to appear on his head, and suddenly realized how little I had cared for him.
Old Master Zhang turned around and went upstairs. I watched his departing figure, words stuck in my throat, unable to utter a single sentence. I felt sowhat guilty for failing my father’s nurturing, filled with remorse.
Actually, at that ti, I never thought of hurting my father. The so-called new knowledge was sothing I didn’t expect he would be so deeply hurt by my actions. I truly regret the pain I brought him, but faced with so things, I was unaware of how to handle them. I also hoped he could live happily, joyfully, and freely, yet everything I said ended up hurting him. I don’t understand what I should do to let him live happily as he used to. Are you sure you want to continue listening to the story beyond this point? Then as you slowly listen, you’ll feel that my deeds beco increasingly excessive. That’s because you might feel I’m simply not fit to be your family mber. Even so, I still hope you can know the truth about everything, don’t judge based solely on so notions, and don’t negate all my efforts. I hope you can consider everything I’ve given from my perspective, how arduous and painful it was!"
Zhang Yichen knows that today everything his father refers to relates to him. If he could let him speak all his words, would he be willing to bear the entire truth?
"Since you’re willing to speak, then tell everything. We are here, ready to hear it all!"
"The next part is..."
After my father went upstairs, he continued to be furious. He truly never expected the son he had raised with so much effort would be so distracted by a woman that he would use boiling water to scald himself. My father felt uncomfortable deep in his heart; he always thought that no matter how much his son loved his wife, at the very least, he would still be good to him, not resort to scalding him. The more he thought about it, the angrier and more upset he beca.
At that ti, not long after my father went upstairs, I carried a jar of wine upstairs again. In the bedroom, I kept pouring wine into my mouth like before, recalling every word I said to Xia Jing, word for word. Even though I usually forget things, I rembered them clearly, let alone Xia Jing, who has such a proud personality. Each ti I thought about the hurtful words I had said to Xia Jing, my heart felt like it was being cut by a knife, unbearably painful.
I selfishly believed that only by getting drunk could I see Xia Jing, because only when drunk could I avoid reality and et Xia Jing in my dreams.
Bang...
The wine jar I was holding accidentally slipped from my hand and directly fell to the ground, shattering instantly. The loud noise woke up, and I drowsily opened my eyes, suddenly becoming alert when I saw pieces of the broken wine jar all over the floor. I quickly squatted down to clean up the fragnts, knowing that if my father saw bringing wine to the bedroom again to drink, I definitely wouldn’t get away with it; I would surely be punished by my dad according to family rules.
I thought it would be fine as long as I cleaned up, but I didn’t expect my father to be awakened by that loud noise as well. At that mont, he was standing at the door of his bedroom, though he hadn’t opened it and co inside.
Once I cleaned up the broken pieces, I wrapped them in my shirt and prepared to throw them away downstairs. I thought I had cleaned them up seamlessly, but how could I have known that my father was standing at the door of my bedroom?
When I pushed open the door and was about to go out, suddenly soone appeared in front of , scaring into dropping the things I was holding directly on the ground. Seeing it was my father, I just breathed a sigh of relief, but seeing the things I held had already fallen to the ground, that sigh caught in my throat again.
"Dad, you... you’re still not sleeping so late?" I asked my father in a stuttering voice, having done sothing wrong.
My dad glanced at the things on the ground with anger: "Sleep? You’re not sleeping either, are you?"
Faced with my father’s questioning, I didn’t know how to answer. After a short silence, I spoke softly: "Dad, it’s not that I’m not sleeping; I’m going to throw away the trash. The trash can in the room is full!"
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