Half a year later, Sister sent the first letter through someone. My mother held the thin letter, crying heartbrokenly. She tucked it close to her and divided the ruby necklace she had always hesitated to wear. One half she wore as an ornament, while the other half hung around her neck, symbolizing that Sister was still by her side.
My father, however, stopped the mailman and kept asking about Sister's news: "How is our Shu Yun doing? Did she give you any hush money?" The mailman shook his head, indicating he was just delivering a letter for a friend and knew nothing else.
My father felt somewhat disappointed and muttered, "I gave her a hundred thousand; what's a few thousand more? So stingy." My mother’s face turned pale with anger as she tightened her grip on the necklace, unable to say a word.
My father continued to press the mailman, asking, "Did our Shu Yun not ask you to bring anything back for us? Like money or gifts?" The mailman shrugged helplessly: "Sir, I really don’t know. I'm just helping a friend; I’m not aware of anything else."
My father was extremely disappointed and waved his hand, signaling the mailman to leave quickly. I clearly saw the last glimmer of hope in my mother's eyes extinguish completely.
That year, I was ten years old. It was the first time I felt the warmth and coldness of the world, the joys and sorrows of life. It was also that year that my mother became pregnant. My father was very happy and boasted to everyone: "My wife is only thirty-seven this year; she can still carry on the Zhao family line."
"When our son is born, the Zhao family will have descendants!" The villagers teased him: "Old Zhao, you already have a hundred thousand; why worry about not having a son?" My father glared: "That's different; a son is my own, while a daughter is raised by others."
"I have a hundred thousand; I can build a small house for my son and marry him off to a beautiful bride." When my mother was three months pregnant, my father got drunk and kicked her in the belly: "Stop sulking all day; give me a smile."
"It's just a girl; what's the big deal?" he continued. "Now that we have money, once you give me a son, we won't have to worry about anything."
My mother was crouched on the ground, clutching her stomach in pain, cold sweat pouring down her forehead. My father, still not satisfied, kicked her twice and said, "Come on, give me a smile. Damn it, always sulking. Who are you showing that to?"
That night, my mother fell silent. The next morning, I woke up to find that she was gone, with a pool of blood beneath her. My father panicked and rushed her to the hospital. The doctor shook his head, indicating that the child could not be saved and neither could the mother.
My father bought her a thin coffin and hastily buried her. On the day of her burial, I didn’t cry or make a fuss. When my mother was alive, she cried every day. In death, perhaps it was a kind of relief. I only worried about my sister. Sister, as long as you are safe and sound, we no longer need to hope for a better life.
After my mother died, my father became even worse. He drank and gambled every day, squandering all the little savings we had. Eventually, he turned his attention to me, planning to sell me to the foolish son of the gambling den owner. It was said that the owner had a son who was simple-minded and still hadn’t found a wife at over thirty years old.
My father took me to meet the gambling den owner, wanting me to be that foolish son’s wife in exchange for a few thousand dollars. When I first met him, the gambling den owner's son was very pleased and clapped his hands with a silly grin, saying, "Wife, heh heh, I'm going to have a wife!"
I was so scared that I hid under the table and wouldn’t come out. My father grabbed me by the neck and pulled me out, saying, "Quickly smile at your husband; don’t look so damn miserable."
"When I have money again, I'll have a little brother; then our Old Zhao Family will have descendants!" I struggled desperately, kicking and hitting him while scratching and biting. Surprisingly, the tall and strong son of the gambling den owner ended up with scratches on his face from me.
My father was furious and slapped the back of my head. "You little brat, how dare you touch my money pouch? Just wait, I'll make you regret it."
Everything went dark in front of me, and I collapsed to the ground.
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