Village Life with my Stepmother
As far back as I can remember, my dad was a scoundrel who loved to drink. He would often get completely drunk, and when he was drunk, he would strip my mom naked, hang her up, and beat her to death.
I was very young then, and I was always so scared that I would hide in my room and cry secretly.
Later, my mother finally couldn't bear the torment any longer and went insane. In the end, she ran away with a stranger. I was six years old that year.
Children my age don't call me Wu Qing, but "Motherless Qing," which is a scar in my heart.
Therefore, I hate my father. From a young age, a seed of hatred sprouted in my heart. It wasn't until I went to high school in another city and attended a boarding school that I didn't go home for two years.
Once, my dad called me and said that he had remarried six months ago and wanted to make up for the years he had neglected me, so he asked me to come home for a visit.
