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墨書 Inktalez
Since he could remember, Gu Huai knew he held little status in his family. In their household, the most important person was his mother. He often felt that his mother was even more childish than he was, frequently speaking in baby talk to his father. When she was hungry, she would say, "I'm hungry, I want food." When tired, she would say, "I'm sleepy, I want to sleep." And when she wanted a hug from his father, she would say, "Darling, I want a hug."
The key was that his father seemed more than happy to indulge her. Neither of them ever considered how he felt.
Once, after getting into trouble at school, he had to have his parents called in. It was clear that the other party was at fault, but when his mother arrived, she couldn't argue effectively and ended up crying instead. He covered his face with his hands, knowing that his mother was unlikely to handle the situation well. Not only did this mean they wouldn't resolve the issue at hand, but soon they would also have to face his father's wrath.
His father spoiled his mother without any thought; he had grown accustomed to it. Sure enough, it wasn't long before he saw his father rush over, immediately wrapping his arms around his mother to comfort her, completely ignoring everyone else present.
Once his mother's mood settled down, his father finally began to address the issue. In the end, of course, his father managed to subdue those involved. But along with that resolution came punishment for him as well.
His father asked him why he hadn't stopped his mother from going over there and posed some questions that were far too complex for someone his age to answer. His mother opened her mouth to speak but fell silent under her husband's stern gaze.
That night, he was made to stand in punishment for an hour. From that moment on, he learned a valuable lesson: he must never let his mother cry and absolutely must not make her angry. Seeing him behave well, one day his mother told his father that he was too strict with him, making him act like a little adult.
My father looked at me thoughtfully, but I always felt that something was about to happen. Sure enough, he signed me up for a bunch of extracurricular classes, most of which I had little interest in. However, seeing my mother still hopeful for my feedback, I picked a couple of options just to appease her.
Finally, my mother was happy, and I felt relieved, content to be a transparent presence in their lives. Sometimes, I searched online to see if there was any possibility of saving my mother from her current state. Many netizens had responses, and one that left a deep impression on me was that they referred to people like her as "giant babies." Did that mean there was no hope?
I closed the webpage, no longer holding onto the hope of changing my mother's situation. As I grew older, I listened to my mother recount stories from when she and my father were young. Although I didn’t understand everything, I managed to extract some key information: my father had once lost my mother.
It was hard to believe; how could someone as meticulous as my father lose her? I couldn't fathom it at first, but then a thought struck me. Of course, the reason he cared so much for her now must be because he didn't want to lose her again. During that time, he must have been very sad. So even now, with my mother by his side, he still felt a lingering fear.
I felt a pang of sympathy for my father. I also gained a clearer understanding of my own situation. I realized that I needed to become independent as soon as possible; most of the time, my father just wanted to be close to my mother. To accommodate him, I chose to attend a boarding school since middle school, going home once every two weeks.
When my father looked at me, his gaze softened a bit. This way of life continued for many years. I thought that even if I were to become senile in old age, I would surely remember how much my father loved my mother—very deeply indeed.
(THE END)
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