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墨書 Inktalez
I stood by the flowerbed downstairs, waiting until midnight, when I finally saw my father stagger back home.
He didn’t notice me at all and walked straight past, leaving a strong smell of alcohol in his wake. The old motion-sensor light in the hallway was broken again; he clapped his hands twice, and finally, the light flickered on.
I followed behind him, watching as he swayed with each step up the stairs. He paused for a while at the door, as if searching for his keys.
The moment he pushed the door open, Yang Meiling's sultry voice drifted out from inside:
“Hmph, you’re all sweet talk and no action... What does it matter if my man is home? He’s always drunk like a dead dog anyway...”
My father stood silently at the door, his hand resting on the doorknob, a flicker of clarity passing through his murky eyes. Yang Meiling didn’t notice the commotion at the door and continued her teasing, “Tomorrow, I’m not going to the Mahjong Parlor; I’m going shopping with my girlfriends... What do you mean you miss me? Don’t even try~”
“Who were you on the phone with?” My father’s voice was hoarse from drunkenness but surprisingly calm.
Yang Meiling was clearly startled; she hurriedly hung up the phone, dropping it to the floor, and instinctively put on a gentle smile.
“Old Li, you’re back...”
“Who were you just talking to?”
“N-no one! Just chatting with some girlfriends...”
Yang Meiling pretended to nonchalantly bend down to pick up her phone, but my father snatched it away from her.
“Girlfriends? Don’t think I don’t know about that little punk who rides around town on his motorcycle. You two are always meeting up to play Mahjong together; your relationship is anything but innocent!”
“What nonsense are you talking about!” Yang Meiling’s face turned pale. “You’re drunk! I have nothing to say to you!”
She stepped forward to grab her phone back, but my father held on tightly. In their struggle, he suddenly slapped Yang Meiling hard across the face.
She covered her cheek in disbelief as she looked at the man before her. My father staggered back two steps under the force of his own blow and finally steadied himself against the doorframe. He glared at Yang Meiling, his eyes bloodshot, and squeezed out through clenched teeth:
“Do you really think I don’t know anything?!”
A low laugh escaped from the man's throat, as if something was choking him, intermittent and finally erupting into a hysterical cackle. His body trembled violently as he slammed Yang Meiling's phone hard onto the ground.
"Did you really think I didn't know? Ning Ning didn't run away; you sold her! You wretched woman! Poisonous vixen! Were you just waiting for Meng Meng to grow up a bit more so you could cash in again?"
Yang Meiling's face turned pale, her eyes flickering as she trembled and tried to defend herself. "What are you talking about? I—I didn’t... You’re drunk! How could I...?"
"Shut up!" The father suddenly punched the wall with a heavy fist, the crumbling plaster raining down. His knuckles were faintly seeping blood, but he was oblivious to it.
"I saw it that day... You secretly hid fifty thousand yuan in the wardrobe! That’s the money from selling my daughter, isn’t it? Do you think I'm an idiot?!"
I stood at the door, watching this man who once seemed so formidable in my eyes, now crumpled on the floor, rambling incoherently as if trying to explain himself to someone.
"I don't not want to take care of my two daughters; I just really can't. I can't even manage my own life... I'm drowning in debt. If... if I didn't have Ning Ning and Meng Meng, maybe..."
"I'm sorry... I'm sorry... Ning Ning, Daddy is sorry for you..."
I listened quietly, feeling something collapse within my chest.
So he had always known.
In his eyes, my sister and I were merely burdens.
He had always wanted to use Yang Meiling’s hands to rid himself of us two burdens.
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