Dad's education, dad's kindness.

How should I put it.

Actually, for the 400 yuan high school tuition, every semester standing in front of all the classmates giving speeches, crying and telling how poor our family is, dad was laid off, mom was bedridden, for a 14-year-old girl, it's quite damaging to her self-esteem.

That was when I was 14.

To salvage a bit of my self-esteem, every Friday after school, I would pick up soda bottles on the street to sell.

That was in 2002.

A glass bottle for soy milk was worth 5 cents, a can was worth 2 cents.

Once, when I was bending over picking up bottles from the trash can, dad, who was gambling on the street, saw me. He grabbed my collar, pulled me back all the way to the yard, and kicked me in the stomach.

The neighbors all came out to watch.

Stretching their necks like wild ducks, "Jianguo, what's going on here?"

Seeing people coming to watch, dad felt even more proud, he took out the fire tongs from the coal stove and hit my legs with it.

While hitting me, he said I wasn't studying well, picking up bottles to buy snacks.

I didn't dare to hide, I stood there, tears streaming down my face, saying I wanted to save money for my tuition, I didn't want to beg from my classmates like a beggar every time.

Dad hit me with the fire tongs on my face, knocking my lips and making them bleed.

Dad said, "Alright, Lijuan, if you don't compete with others in grades, you just want to compete in family background, right? You even dare to show off? Do children have faces?"

That year, I was only 14.

In front of the neighbors, dad hit me with the fire tongs for two hours, then tiredly and softly talked to me, telling me about principles, stories of famous people, and how Prime Minister Zhou was poor when he was young, he chiseled a hole in the wall to steal light, and only ate one meal a day.

Dad said he did it for my own good.

For my future to be easier.

Dad said he felt sorry for hitting me, but he had no choice, he loved me, he could only do it this way.

Love?

That year, when my sick mom heard about a large job fair in Xi'an, a talent market, she gave dad some money to participate in the recruitment.

Dad used that money to buy himself a Nokia phone.

He didn't even go to the talent market, saying he felt undignified, standing there introducing himself to potential employers, waiting to be chosen like a cabbage, too undignified.

He refused to do that.

So, he made his 14-year-old daughter stand in front of thousands of people, crying and telling her classmates over and over how poor our family was, begging for pity, begging for donations.

All for 400 yuan.

All for 400 yuan.

I think, maybe, he didn't love me that much.