The sky isn’t shedding rain, but my tears fall like the second hand of a clock. How should the hour hand catch up?
Zhang Yichen now feels that his father’s experiences over the years have been an incredibly vibrant life journey. He hasn’t been through such experiences and wishes to venture out a few tis, to live recklessly for himself. But over the years, in pursuit of his goals and proving to the world that he is a decent man, he’s forgotten what he ultimately desires.
"Dad, do you know? When I hear you talk about your life experiences, deep down, I mostly envy you. I admire you for being able to live so freely for so long, ignoring everything at ho just to pursue your own happiness. But I can’t do that. I’ve spent my entire life running around for our family. I’ve never known what it’s like to live for myself, and I haven’t even tried to figure out how to live on my own!"
Maybe our different experiences lead us to have different attitudes towards everything. You lived happily and freely for all these years, but what about ? I was here undergoing devilish training. During that ti, I really hated you both. I’ve said it over a hundred tis—I declared to the world that I truly hated you. I didn’t want to acknowledge you as my parents because you never stayed by my side to accompany . You only caused pain. As parents, you never fulfilled your responsibilities; instead, you hurt us repeatedly. Perhaps deep down, you don’t think I’m worthy of being your son at all.
Because I’m afraid you think I’m not worthy of being your son, I gave everything—all my youth, my ti, my childhood—to training, because I wanted you to know that I’m truly your son. Am I worthy of being your son? And are you truly worthy of being my parents? Deep down, you know better than anyone that you aren’t the most suitable parents. There’s a world full of perfect parents, too many to count. Even poor parents can stay by their child’s side, enduring hardships no matter how tough life gets. But what about you?
At the slightest disturbance, you’re unwilling to stay by your child’s side. You treat your child like a piece of grass—take when you want, discard when you don’t. Where does that leave , your son? What position am I in from the beginning until now? I don’t know how much I an to you, since I don’t understand why you’d rather drift outside than stay by my side. Does staying by my side cause you so much pain? Or is it that I’m only ever ant to be here in your eyes?
Mom and Dad, there are things I really don’t want to repeat over and over, because each ti I do, my inner depths get hurt again and again. Every ti I think of those years you abandoned , or the tough childhood I endured alone, facing ridicule, my heart feels like it’s being cut by a knife.
But I have no choice. I simply have no way to easily put all past matters away. You can do it—ignore everything that happened before and act as if nothing ever happened. But I can’t, because those are pains inflicted by others upon .
I really wish ti could run backward. More than anyone, I wish if ti could move back a little, I wouldn’t be struggling like I am now.
Just a slight retreat of ti would let live happily. I would definitely not give up my childhood, allowing it to linger in painful mories. Now, when I recall what I’ve been through, when I think of the bits and pieces of my childhood, I can hardly believe it myself. Was that really a child’s childhood? Why is it that while others’ childhoods were filled with sunshine, mine was dark and damp?
We were all children, so why is there such a vast difference between my childhood and others’? Is it because I was born into a wealthy family, destined to be abandoned by my parents and to accept falling ti and again, then standing up strongly and smilingly facing everyone’s ridicule?
I’m unwilling. Truly unwilling. You feel unwilling about many things, so why can’t I express my unwillingness even once? I’ve given so much; why is this the end result? Had I known it would end like this, why would I have been born to you, why did you give birth to , to let suffer such pain?"
"Child, don’t say anymore. We know how you’ve gotten through all these years. Your life was hard and tough. You achieved everything through your own efforts. You never asked anyone for help, and that’s why we, as parents, feel even more heartbroken. We never thought we would cause you this much hurt. We only wanted you to live a steady, simple life.
But why did I end up bringing you so much pain? Again and again, I find I’ve lost the aning of being a parent. I no longer know how to provide my child with a happy and peaceful family!
What you said is true. As parents, we’re indeed unqualified because we didn’t fulfill even a bit of our responsibility to you. We caused you a lot of pain, and can you hate for it? But don’t bla your mom. She was forced; she was compelled by . She never thought of abandoning you, her own son. Back then, she held you in her arms. When I pulled her away, she wouldn’t let go because she couldn’t bear to. You were the child she carried for ten months, by blood connected!"
"Honestly, whose fault it is doesn’t matter anymore. Today, I just wanted to express the thoughts I’ve had for so many years. I don’t want to keep myself eternally trapped in a small room. I don’t want to live forever in painful mories. I just wanted you to know that I’ve forgiven you. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t be saying these words to you, because I don’t owe you that, nor do I owe you the duty to ease your guilt!"
Love is wrong, yet I can’t face the people in the city—whether joy or sorrow, suddenly everything—everything seems like the stars in the night sky.
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