"Fourteen years ago, there was a night that I still rember clearly. The villa was very dark and quiet. I was asleep in my bedroom when the door swung open. The driver, who would drop off and pick up from school every day, suddenly burst in and urged to dress and follow him."
"At that ti, I was a naive teenager, thirteen years old. Despite being an illegitimate child, my father loved very much and raised well. I had never lacked anything in life, so naturally, I hadn’t experienced any hardship. But that night, the mont the driver pulled out from the villa, less than three minutes later, there was a massive explosion from the villa. Flas shot into the sky, a black mushroom cloud ford, it was terrifying beyond imagination. Black ash fell on my head like rain."
"I was dazed and confused. The driver had to yell at several tis before I responded, eventually, it was him who had to carry to the car. I don’t rember if you, the child with the runny nose, were in the car or not. I think I heard you crying, but at that mont my mind was blank, I didn’t know anything."
As Gu Shaocheng reminisced about the past, his eyes were filled with murderous rage.
Uncontrollable emotions surged within him.
Those scenes were deeply etched into his mind. Even now, recalling them, everything was crystal clear, right down to the smallest detail. He still rembers so aningless graffiti on the windows of the car, likely the work of so mischievous soul.
He didn’t care about how much Chenxing had understood. He only stared at the photo on the tombstone. That man in the photo, in the dead of night, had driven him to escape. And he had rely sat dumbstruck, staring out the car window at the fiery villa, watching... watching...
Until he was brought back to reality by the sound of gunshots.
The car swerved violently, almost flipping over several tis.
Bang—
A bullet pierced the driver’s body. He rembered the driver looking at the snivelling child in the passenger seat. That was when he saw the weeping child clearly for the first ti.
He lunged forward, sprawled across the entire front half of the car, gripping the steering wheel tightly.
In reality, he didn’t know how to drive. He only turned the wheel instinctively in his will to survive. But the driver used the last bit of his strength to slam onto the brakes, forcing the car to a standstill.
All he could muster were seven words:
"Look... after... my daughter..."
There were many reasons:
Firstly, he didn’t like her, found her dirty;
Secondly, he was on the run, his own life was hanging by a thread;
Thirdly, he really hated wailing little girls;
Fourthly, picking her up would really slow him down!
Five, six, seven...: he still didn’t like the child with the runny nose!
He could list a hundred reasons to abandon her!
But, just as he opened the car door, and was about to step onto the ground, the kid’s chubby arm clung to his leg, bawling, "Brother... Daddy’s not talking... Daddy won’t talk anymore... Daddy’s bad... Daddy’s bad..."
She held him tightly, her small arm mysteriously possessing such strength, refusing to let go of his leg.
Resigned, he picked her up. He didn’t possess his current strength back then, and even now, effortlessly lifting an eighteen-year-old woman wasn’t tiring. But at thirteen, he grumbled incessantly about how heavy the four-year-old was. He cursed her a pig, how could soone be so heavy! He truly wished he could have just dumped her on the spot!"
User Comments
0 comments from readers