Actually, by today, I can pretty much analyze many things clearly.

Perhaps I am not useless, I am just a tool for my dad to maintain his self-esteem.

The more he suppresses me, the more he can highlight how important he is, how great his contributions are.

Just like what he has been telling me all these years.

Dad said I am the dumbest and most foolish child in the world. If it weren't for his tireless efforts, digging up exercises for me to do, if it weren't for his careful cultivation of me, if it weren't for his timely corrections, I would have long rotted in the mud.

Dad said, I spend more time than others, and still don't always rank first. Even if I do, the difference in scores between me and the second place is not that much, enough to prove that I am stupid, stupid beyond redemption.

Dad said I am a waste, a bad seed.

So, I always get beaten.

Beaten for no apparent reason.

With a belt, with a shoe sole, with a clothes iron, with a ladle.

I am a fool, a sinner, a waste, I am sorry to everyone.

So, dad kept a record book.

Recording every penny he spent on me.

Even the spicy sticks, beef tendons I ate had to be recorded.

Even the diapers he changed for me when I was a baby had to be recorded.

And every mistake I made, every time I didn't listen, every time I disappointed him.

Dad kept track of it all.

This is his dedication and nurturing towards me.

My younger brother has never been good at studying since he was young, but dad rarely hit my younger brother.

Dad attributed my younger brother's poor academic performance to me, he said, it was because he was too busy educating me, the incredibly stupid and foolish me, that he didn't have time to educate his most beloved son.

This is my sin.

So whenever things didn't go well for me, dad would grab my hair and slap my face from side to side.

Until I couldn't speak anymore.

Perhaps in that era, everyone was in a difficult situation.

Dad had his own difficulties.

But my childhood was just like that, gone.

My whole life, just like that, gone.

It's just my bad luck.