The Wicked Father

Frank despised Mia for being a stay-at-home mom who only knew how to ask him for money. To prevent me from becoming like her, he decided to train 6-year-old me to earn money and support the family. When the neighbor’s kid became a child model, I tried too. Despite being dressed up like a prince, I was politely told I wasn’t cute or clever enough. When a friend’s child won an essay contest, I entered too. After chewing through three pencils, all I got was a certificate saying “Keep trying!” Frank beat Mia viciously. “The child you gave birth to is just like you – ugly and stupid.” I stood in front of Mom, feeling guilty and heartbroken. It was all my fault for making her suffer. I dropped out of school early to become the cheapest labor. I handed over all my wages, but by age 25, I had secretly saved up $10,000. I could finally take Mom away. My hands trembled as I tried to give Mom the bank card, when Frank suddenly burst in, his face twisted with rage. I tried to pull Mom away to escape, but she shoved me down instead. She proudly presented my wages to Frank. “Honey, beat this ungrateful brat to death. He not only hid money but dared to persuade me to divorce you.” I was beaten to death. Frank got off with a light sentence for manslaughter plus a letter of forgiveness. He was out in less than a year. I found myself back in time to when I first dropped out of school. Frank was viciously beating Mia again, berating her for giving birth to an ugly, stupid child just like her. Frank was a fitness trainer and former boxer. Mia was very supportive of his work and often sparred with him. At that moment, Mia lay sprawled on the floor, her neck craned stubbornly. Frank’s fist connected with a sickening crunch. Her piercing screams filled the air. Jason lounged on the sofa, munching chips and watching with interest. He occasionally offered commentary. “Not hard enough.” “Not fast enough.” I staggered to my feet, having just been thrown across the room for trying to shield Mom. My head was still ringing. As the scene before me came into focus, I suddenly realized I had been reborn. Mom’s increasingly agonized screams snapped me out of my daze. Frank was 6 feet tall and 250 pounds of solid muscle. His hammer-like fists rained down on Mom with increasing speed and force. She was soon covered in blood. I couldn’t help but laugh coldly inside. It seemed Frank was getting carried away with his performance, hurling insults at Mom and me non-stop. In my past life, whenever Frank raised his hand to hit Mom, I would immediately give in to any demand. It worked better than if he beat me. But the one time it involved my education, I refused to back down. So Mom volunteered to take the beating for me. In the end, I still gave in. But in this life, apart from hatred, I no longer harbored any illusions about family. I just wanted to live for myself. I could never forget how in my past life, after the violence ended, Mom would always wipe away my tears with her bruised face. She would say tenderly: “Lucas, don’t worry. This is just how your father shows his love for me.” I always thought Mom was just trying to comfort me. It wasn’t until my final moments that I realized she truly meant it. Mom loved it. The more he beat her, the more she loved him. As a filial child, I naturally couldn’t interfere with their love. I remained motionless. Frank’s blows grew increasingly vicious as he incorporated his boxing techniques. Mom soon coughed up a mouthful of blood. Jason giggled with glee, calling it spectacular. “Lucas, save Mommy! I’m doing this all for you.” But even three of me combined weren’t as thick as Frank’s arm. I cowered in the corner, looking utterly terrified. Blood pooled on the floor but she still didn’t get what she wanted. Mom finally started begging for mercy, but Frank was too worked up to stop. He grew more and more excited. “Mom, should I call the police?” Frank suddenly snapped out of it. Mom no longer looked on the verge of death. She wiped the blood from her face with her sleeve. “Your father was just playing around with me.” Under three scrutinizing gazes, I walked straight to the bedroom. I paused at the door. There was one point in Frank’s frenzied rant that I disagreed with. “Dad, don’t you know – like father, like son?” All the insults he had hurled at me instantly reflected back onto Frank. The bedroom door slammed shut with a bang, leaving the three of them staring at each other in bewilderment. I lay down on the bed. Within seconds, I heard the doorknob being frantically twisted and curses flying. I rolled over, ignoring it. My lack of security had long ago made me develop the habit of locking the door. Everything finally quieted down, but I was far from calm. In a moment of impulse, I had provoked Frank. All that awaited me now were even more severe consequences. Suddenly, the sound of keys jingling came from outside the door. ***This is the breakpoint***

Frank still couldn’t open the door. There were too many keys, and he had never been a patient man. He preferred the simplest, most brutal methods. A thunderous pounding on the door began, accompanied by a stream of vile curses. “You little bastard, think you’re so smart after a few years of school? Mocking your old man for being uneducated? You wouldn’t even exist if I hadn’t given you life and provided for you…” Is that so? In my past life, after Grandma died and I was brought back home, I learned they had adopted an older brother two years my senior. Frank gave Mia $200 a week for living expenses. His only requirement was that each meal have a mix of meat and vegetables, with different types of meat each time. She could spend any leftover money as she pleased. But Mia often ran out of money before the week was up and had to ask Frank for more. This angered him greatly. To punish her, he would often withhold the allowance even after a week had passed, making her kneel at the front door before throwing money in her face. A month later at the dinner table, Frank finally noticed me – but only because I reached for the meat dish in front of Jason. “Eat, eat, eat. All you two do is ask for money as soon as you open your eyes. Like mother, like son.” Mia felt wronged and vented her anger by scolding me, echoing Frank’s words. She didn’t expect this would earn her Frank’s approval for the first time. I could sense Mom’s excitement even with my head bowed. Her voice trembled slightly with disbelief. Greatly encouraged, she berated me using words I had never heard before, completely disregarding my reddening eyes. It’s okay. There’s no rule that mothers have to love their children. It’s enough that I love her. My embarrassment delighted Jason. Jason laughed, and Frank laughed along with him. That was the first time Frank praised Mia, the first time he acknowledged her. Mia had finally found her place in this family. To prevent me from becoming as useless as Mia in the future, Frank decided to start training 6-year-old me to earn money and support the family. When the neighbor’s kid became a child model, I tried too. Despite being dressed up like a prince, I was politely told I wasn’t cute or clever enough. When a friend’s child won an essay contest, I entered too. After chewing through three pencils, all I got was a certificate saying “Keep trying!” Frank beat Mia viciously. “The child you gave birth to is just like you – ugly and stupid.” In the end, I could only collect bottles and trash, spending my days begging on the streets with homeless people. I would return home filthy, digging crumpled dollar bills out of my shoes to proudly place in the collection box. I had to pay for my meals – the family didn’t support freeloaders, except for Jason. Jason threw a tantrum at the dinner table. “It’s so embarrassing! My classmates all make fun of me.” Because I had run into him on the street and tried to give him his favorite candy… “Bring me the axe,” came Frank’s enraged voice from outside. He was going to chop down the door. And after the door, who would be next?

Frank raised the axe. I opened the door voluntarily, but he didn’t stop. “How dare you disrespect your father. You might as well die.” Frank wasn’t well-educated. He had boxed since childhood. In his world, fists were everything. Moreover, in this household he was the law, with absolute control. So this life he had given, he could take back whenever he pleased. The axe blade stopped just an inch from the top of my head. At the critical moment, Mia threw herself at me and we dodged. But because we were so close, it grazed her scalp. The axe was razor-sharp. Even that light touch left Mia with a bald patch and a trickle of blood. She held me, sobbing dramatically. Hit them and then offer a sweet. I knew this routine well. She feared that if I died, there would be no one to share her burden. She would once again become the sole target. Frank moved to strike me again. The normally stubborn Mia crumpled with a light shove. Her face contorted with anguish as she wept uncontrollably. “Lucas, Mommy is so sorry. I can’t protect you. Just endure it, don’t fight back. It’ll be over soon.” I watched the scene before me with cold eyes. I knew very well that if I didn’t give them what they wanted, I might not make it out of here alive today. I knelt down and hugged Frank’s leg, my voice choked with emotion. “Dad, I’m sorry. I just didn’t want to let go of such an amazing father. Everyone here knows you’re my dad. They’re all afraid of you, so no one dares bully me.” “That’s why I want to be as strong as you.” I had always been obedient. Frank was taken aback, but soon couldn’t hide his pleased smile. “So that’s how it is. Dad was wrong to doubt you.” Mia’s expression was strange. Everyone knew Frank loved being flattered, but this was the first time she had seen him admit he was wrong. I silently observed everything from the corner. Mia still didn’t understand. The more someone lacks something, the more they crave it. Frank claimed education was useless, yet he forced Jason to study. What he cared about most was people saying he was all brawn and no brains. He was terrified of misunderstanding others, often checking the dictionary multiple times for a single phrase. In my past life, as soon as Mia was beaten, I immediately dropped out of school. I didn’t even finish middle school. Now, taking advantage of Frank’s good mood, I asked to finish middle school. It was only a few months difference. Frank agreed without hesitation. Those few months passed quickly. After graduation, I chose to work out of state, saying there were more opportunities. Frank was very supportive. On my first day there, a message came in the family group chat. Frank: When do you get paid? Frank: Never mind, just hand it all over at the end of the year. Me: Okay. The conversation ended there. I sent Frank a photo of a factory, then turned and walked in the opposite direction. Outside First High School, the grade director and homeroom teacher of Class 1 were eagerly waiting, wringing their hands in anticipation of the arrival of Lucas Li, the top scorer in the high school entrance exam.

I officially began my high school life. Right after the qualifying exam, I had contacted First High School. It was far from home and one of the top schools in the country. They offered excellent conditions – not only was tuition and board free, there were additional scholarships and stipends. People say they’d rather be a corporate slave than a high school student. Everyone claims high school is miserable, but I found it to be the most relaxing time of my life. My classmates were kind, my teachers attentive. My life was happy and fulfilling. By saving every penny and working part-time jobs, I managed to save up a decent sum after six months. It would be enough to hand over. To avoid suspicion, I bought gifts and local specialties for everyone in the family when I returned for the New Year. I also finally owned my first well-fitting piece of clothing that I actually liked. To save money, I took a 48-hour hard seat train ride home. When I finally arrived, I was greeted with a slap. “You little bastard, how dare you waste money on yourself? Don’t you have work uniforms?” Mia was overjoyed to see me. After Frank finished slapping me, she pulled me into her arms. “Lucas, you’re finally back. Mommy missed you so much.” I saw the bruises covering her body. Frank must have shown her a lot of “love” while I was gone. Now that I was back, the family had a new target. No wonder she was so excited. Mia quickly frowned as she looked at my jacket, her tone lecturing: “But Mommy still has to criticize you. Isn’t this a bit wasteful?” But apart from the jacket I was wearing, my entire suitcase was full of things for them. Yet they couldn’t see that, fixating only on what I had on. How ridiculous. In my past life, when I didn’t buy anything or new clothes, what did they say? “You went away and didn’t even think to bring back some local specialties for the family? So selfish, just enjoying yourself out there while your parents have never even left the state.” “You’re working now but can’t even buy yourself decent clothes? Always looking so shabby, it’s embarrassing.” Their hostile gazes only softened when I handed over the money. The next year, I bought a plane ticket without hesitation, deliberately scheduling it for two days later. This time I still brought back lots of gifts, but nothing for myself. As soon as I got home, they started inspecting my luggage and scrutinizing me. “Did you take the train back?” I nodded, even producing last year’s train ticket. This time they were finally satisfied. Seeing how obedient I was, they made the unprecedented move of inviting me to join them for the New Year’s Eve dinner. At the table, they wore brand new clothes. Jason sat in the middle, the picture of a happy family. I sat across from them in my wrinkled clothes, picking at the few vegetables on my plate. Next door came the sounds of a heated argument and crying. Mrs. Lee was yelling at her son again. “Go to college my ass! Pack your bags and go find a job to make money.” Mia happily placed a plate of meat dishes in front of me. Mrs. Lee and Mom had always been rivals. Their confrontations usually ended with Mrs. Lee having the upper hand. But the situation had reversed since I started working last year. Especially after Mom went to borrow soy sauce from her wearing new clothes that afternoon. It sparked the most intense argument ever in their household. After eating, they lounged on the sofa watching the New Year’s Gala, laughing non-stop. They didn’t notice me clearing the table, my expression dark as I held the half-full bottle of soy sauce. At the family gathering during the Lunar New Year. Mom hadn’t attended in nearly a decade, not since being mocked for dressing worse than my grandmother. But this year she got up early, excitedly dolling herself up in the trendiest outfit I had brought b

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