Dad educated me, Dad said he loved me.

Dad pays a lot of attention to my studies.

It's also the only thing he cares about in his life.

From childhood to adulthood, Dad always managed to come up with all sorts of strange exercise books, whether useful or not, he just piled them up for me to do.

Even though I had already finished the homework assigned by the teacher.

Dad tinkered with an old tape recorder and made me learn English pronunciation along with the tape.

I didn't pronounce the "Rain" sound correctly, and Dad slapped me 13 times.

My nose bled, drop by drop.

That year, I was only in the third grade of elementary school.

Actually, what's the use of having standard English pronunciation?

Actually, learning English isn't that useful.

But Dad thought it was impressive, thought it was stylish.

If I could speak English fluently, Dad would show off more ostentatiously when he went out, thinking he was very successful.

He was an educator, a successful man.

Even though at that time, my family was so poor that we couldn't make ends meet.