A Twisted Fate
1161 Words
And so, I completed a grand turnaround in my life. From that point on, I lived the coveted lifestyle I had always dreamed of. Although A-Ming wasn't a big boss, he was a significant upgrade compared to A-Fu.
A-Ming truly loved me—maybe not as much as I wished, but far more than A-Fu could manage. He provided me with a richer material life, leading me to believe I had found a safe haven in him.
Until that day…
“Mom…” Three-year-old A-Xu was hiding under my bed, trembling with fear. He looked like a frightened little rabbit, his clear, big eyes filled with terror.
“A-Xu, what happened?” My heart tightened suddenly.
“Don’t tell Dad I’m here…” he whispered through soft sobs.
That night, I pretended to go out shopping but instead hid by the tree outside. What I witnessed left me breathless: A-Ming, who usually showered me with affection, was forcefully covering A-Xu’s mouth. His large hand gripped A-Xu’s throat like a vice, leaving no chance for him to cry out.
A-Xu’s small face twisted in pain, his eyes filled with fear and despair, trying to scream but only managing a faint, heartbreaking whimper.
My heart felt like it was being sliced open as I watched A-Ming’s strong hand cruelly tighten around A-Xu’s delicate flesh. “You little bastard, who do you think you are? You think you can call me Dad?” A-Ming’s voice was as cold as a snake.
A-Xu’s face contorted in agony, tears rolling down his cheeks like pearls. My heart ached, but I chose to remain silent. After all, I was pregnant with A-Ming’s child.
“Mom, am I a little princess?” Three years later, little Meng sat at the table, gazing at me with her eyes identical to A-Ming’s.
“Yes, you’re Daddy’s little princess.” I smiled as I braided her hair.
Little Meng’s arrival felt like installing a warm central heating system in our home. She was innocent and full of love for everyone. A-Ming treated her like a precious gem, cradling her in his hands as if she might break.
On the surface, we appeared to be the perfect family. But only I knew about the indelible scars that A-Xu carried deep within.
One late night, I gently pushed open A-Xu’s bedroom door.
“Mom, I hate him.” A-Xu looked up, his gaze reflecting a maturity far beyond his years.
I held him tightly, saying, “Sweetheart, just hang in there a little longer.”
A-Ming still held a strong aversion toward A-Xu. It wasn’t entirely his fault.
One day, A-Ming rode his bike, taking me and A-Xu past the village entrance when we happened upon Aunt Wang and Aunt Li sitting in the shade.
“Hey, isn’t that A-Ming?” Aunt Wang drawled sarcastically, “Taking your wife and kid out for a stroll?”
Aunt Li chimed in, “That’s right! He’s a city boy now, too good for us old-timers.”
A-Ming’s face darkened, but he forced a smile. “Aunt Wang, Aunt Li, you two should relax in this heat.”
“Oh my, listen to him! He sounds just like a city person,” Aunt Wang fanned herself, her cold gaze landing on A-Xu. “But no matter how fancy you think you are, you should look at what’s in your own belly.”
At that moment, Uncle Zhang joined in, his tobacco pipe in his mouth. “A-Ming, how can a young man like you settle for this? So many eligible girls in the village are waiting for you, yet you chose…”
A-Ming’s back was soaked with sweat, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the handlebars.
“Right, right,” Aunt Li sneered, “You could at least bring a decent kid along. Look at that boy; he’s a spitting image of his father. Who knows which scoundrel in the village he belongs to…”
A-Xu shrank behind me, his small hand clutching my shirt tightly. I could feel him trembling.
A crowd of older women surrounded us, chattering away:
“If my niece married you, at least she’d give you a chubby, healthy son…”
“What are you looking for? Beauty? Beauty doesn’t put food on the table!”
“I heard her ex-husband was a decent man, with land and a house, but she still thought he was poor…”
A-Ming’s forehead pulsed with veins, his lips turning white as he remained silent. He had a million things to say in retort, but facing these older relatives, he couldn’t lash out.
“Let’s go home,” he said softly, twisting the handlebars to leave.
“Oh, leaving already?” Aunt Wang raised her voice. “City folks have such a big temper. Just a few words, and you can’t take it? A-Ming, don’t you think your father would be ashamed to see you like this…”
A-Ming abruptly stepped on the gas, the bike roaring off, leaving a chorus of women shouting, “What attitude is that?”
Not a word was spoken on the way home. I could see the corners of his eyes reddening, the muscles in his neck taut. This man, who pretended to be composed in front of others, had pent-up frustration that would inevitably harm A-Xu.
Before we arrived home, I heard A-Ming’s mother yelling in the yard, “You’ve embarrassed me! People say my son is a softie who can’t even get a decent girl, always picking up someone else’s leftovers! That little bastard is running around the village, and people are pointing at me. Where am I supposed to put my face?”
A-Ming’s grip on the handlebars trembled slightly, but he could only hang his head in silence. This seemingly strong man felt like a child scolded by his parents, helpless and pitiful in the face of rural gossip.
At that moment, I understood why A-Ming was so harsh with A-Xu. He vented all his powerlessness and frustration onto this innocent child, using a***e to prove he still had a shred of dignity.
Looking at his beloved daughter and then at A-Xu, his feelings were complex—loving and loathing, like the smell of durian, both appealing and repulsive.
His pattern was to endure and suppress, then secretly unleash his repressed anger on my son A-Xu. Did he ever think of his daughter when he mistreated A-Xu? Would A-Xu transfer his hatred to little Meng? Would he end up tormenting her?
On a tranquil night, I held A-Ming as he spent himself on me, but suddenly I burst into tears, whispering, “A-Ming, I know you’re hurting my son! Wuwuwu… I know!”
A-Ming’s body jolted, sweat dripping onto me, mingling together as he held me tightly in response. I gasped, biting his shoulder and leaving a mark.
After that, we never spoke of it again. I also never witnessed him hurting A-Xu again.
- Writer
