Dad scolded me today, calling me a whore.

That's right, I am a whore.

Really.

Dad knows about it, he has always known.

We didn't have a house to live in.

For most of my life, my family didn't have our own house to live in.

It wasn't until I graduated from college and made some money.

That's when my family finally had our own house to live in.

Before that, for many years, we rented a place above someone else's house.

In the outskirts of the county town.

Many families built three rooms on two floors.

The four of us squeezed into the attic of someone else's house, in a small 25-square-meter room.

Back then in the northwest, sleeping on beds wasn't popular, it was more like "kang" beds.

Our landlord ran a small business.

It was a bit shady, like a bathhouse.

Not the glamorous nightclubs people think of later, it was just really low-key, with small pink lights hanging outside.

The landlord's business was tough, he was out early and back late, no one cooked for his son at home.

My mom agreed to take care of the landlord's son, and in return, the landlord waived three months of rent for us.

Sometimes, the landlord's son would stay at our place, when the landlord came back late, his son would sleep on our "kang" bed.

With me, my younger brother, my dad, and my mom all on one "kang" bed.

We only had one "kang" bed at home.

In the middle of the night, half asleep, I felt someone's hands reaching into my blanket, my clothes, my underwear, my body.

I jolted awake and kicked those hands with all my might.

The hands paused for a moment, then came back when I was half asleep again, I kicked again, repeatedly.

I couldn't dare to sleep the whole night.

Dad scolded me today, calling me a whore.

That's right, I am a whore.

Really.

Dad knows about it, he has always known.

We didn't have a house to live in.

For most of my life, my family didn't have our own house to live in.

It wasn't until I graduated from college and made some money.

That's when my family finally had our own house to live in.

Before that, for many years, we rented a place above someone else's house.

In the outskirts of the county town.

Many families built three rooms on two floors.

The four of us squeezed into the attic of someone else's house, in a small 25-square-meter room.

Back then in the northwest, sleeping on beds wasn't popular, it was more like "kang" beds.

Our landlord ran a small business.

It was a bit shady, like a bathhouse.

Not the glamorous nightclubs people think of later, it was just really low-key, with small pink lights hanging outside.

The landlord's business was tough, he was out early and back late, no one cooked for his son at home.

My mom agreed to take care of the landlord's son, and in return, the landlord waived three months of rent for us.

Sometimes, the landlord's son would stay at our place, when the landlord came back late, his son would sleep on our "kang" bed.

With me, my younger brother, my dad, and my mom all on one "kang" bed.

We only had one "kang" bed at home.

In the middle of the night, half asleep, I felt someone's hands reaching into my blanket, my clothes, my underwear, my body.

I jolted awake and kicked those hands with all my might.

The hands paused for a moment, then came back when I was half asleep again, I kicked again, repeatedly.

I couldn't dare to sleep the whole night.

And the next day, the owner of those hands, the landlord's son, acted as if nothing happened, calmly asking my parents what we would eat for breakfast.

I told my dad about this.

He slapped me, calling me a liar, accusing me of slandering others.

I insisted I wasn't lying, and my dad suddenly realized, smirked, and said, "Oh, then you're a whore."

With a mocking look, my dad gazed up and down at me.

He said, "You're a whore."

Later on, the landlord's son still slept on our "kang" bed, his hands kept reaching in, and I never told my dad again, not even once.

Later, when I bought a pink hairpin, dad called me a whore.

Today, he called me a whore again.

He's right.

That's what I am.

I act like a whore to pay three months' rent.

Dad has always known, hasn't he?