It was the mother who proposed the divorce, but she still stubbornly put the blame on her father. From then on, she became a cold and proud child, refusing her father's care and moving to live in the school dormitory. Her father came to see her at school with a thermos full of her favorite braised pork ribs. She didn't even look at it, kept her head down, and shoveled rice into her mouth bite after bite until tears welled up in her eyes. Her father sighed and begged her to go home. She remained silent with a cold face. When her father raised his hand to touch her head and said sympathetically, "Look, you've become so thin in just a few days," she blocked his hand with the book in her hand and screamed hysterically, "Don't bother me!" Then she suddenly swept the table, causing the food box to fall to the ground. The sauce-colored pork ribs were scattered all over the floor, and the rich aroma filled the entire dormitory.
When she was in her third year of college, her father remarried. Her father called her and boldly said: "She is an elementary school teacher, retired, meticulous, and has a good temper... If you don't have time, you don't need to come back..." At that time, she also had a boyfriend and understood that some things depended on fate. She knew in her heart how lonely her father had been these years. She was silent for a long time before faintly saying, "In the future, don't argue with people anymore." Her father responded repeatedly, "Okay, I won't argue, I won't argue."
Her father said on the phone, "If you're not doing well, come back." She remained silent without speaking, and tears fell drop by drop as she thought her father couldn't see them.
Her father's raised hand paused awkwardly in the air. According to his character, if it were someone else, the palm would have already fallen. She saw the muscles on her father's face twitch several times as he said, "No matter what, dad will always love you!" As her father was about to leave, he looked deeply at her one last time. Watching her father walk away, her steadfast defense crumbled, and she cried loudly alone in the secluded dormitory while looking at the ribs scattered all over the floor.
Her father's gentleness and indulgence were only given to her. He rarely argued with her mother in front of her. If she happened to encounter their argument, no matter how fierce it was, as long as she shouted, "Stop arguing!", her formerly intimidating father would immediately lower his head and stop. So much so that later, whenever her parents argued, her brother would immediately call her because everyone knew: only she could subdue her father.
Walking on the street, her father withdrew his arm and said, "You go ahead, I'll follow behind." She laughed and asked, "What, feeling shy?" Her father replied, "If you go ahead, in case of any unexpected situation, I can warn you to dodge." She stopped, and the sunlight shone from behind her. Suddenly, she realized that her father's waist had already become bent. She remembered that her father used to be such a tall and strong man. But now, this old man still walked behind her, warning her of possible dangers...
That day, she went home to get something. When she opened the door, her father was curled up on the sofa, asleep, with the TV still on. Her father's hair had turned gray, his complexion sallow, and in just a year, her once vigorous father had aged significantly. She suddenly realized how lonely her father really was. She stood there for a long time, took a blanket to cover her father, but he woke up abruptly. Seeing her, he was flustered and hurriedly tidied up the messy things on the sofa. Then he remembered something, put down the things in his hands, and spoke incoherently, "Have you eaten yet? Wait, I'll make your favorite braised pork ribs..." She originally wanted to say she wouldn't eat and would just take the stuff and leave. But seeing her father's expectant and nervous expression, she felt sorry and sat down. Her father was happy like a child, and he quickly ran into the kitchen. She heard him drop the spoon on the ground and break a bowl. She went in and helped pick up the pieces, and her father sheepishly said to her, "My hands are too slippery..." Her eyes became moist, and she suddenly regretted: why should she hurt the person who loved her so much?
Later, her father often mentioned this event to her. Those small details, repeated many times by her father, were carved into a landscape. Every time her father finished talking, he would sigh, "You were so small and unconscious for so long, how did you suddenly wake up?" At that moment, her father's eyes were full of tenderness and love. After he talked about it many times, she got annoyed and retorted, but her father didn't care, only laughing happily and contentedly. Her arrogance and tyranny grew under her father's indulgence.
During the summer vacation, she returned home with her boyfriend. There was new furniture at home, and the flowers on the balcony were blooming beautifully. Her father was neatly dressed and spirited. Facing the slightly plump woman, she hesitantly called out, "Aunt." The aunt immediately flustered and joyfully went to the kitchen to cook, coming out every now and then to ask whether she preferred sweet or spicy food, whether the taste should be lighter or heavier. Then she directed her father to peel an onion or wash vegetables. She never imagined that her irritable father could be so obediently guided by her. Listening to her father and the aunt laugh softly in the kitchen, the sound of the oil pot, and the smell of cooking oil wafting out of the kitchen, her eyes felt warm. This was truly the taste of home.
It was still her room, which the aunt had already cleaned spotlessly. Her father liked to cook and prepared meals for her three times a day, trying different dishes each time. Her father was old and forgetful, often putting double the amount of salt in the dishes. However, he remembered clearly everything about her childhood. Her father told her boyfriend about the time she had a fever as a child, saying, "It was your mom's one word 'dad' that captured my heart..." She listened beside them, suddenly remembering the poem: "Old age brings much forgetfulness, except for remembrance of longing."
That night, after everyone had gone to sleep, her father came to her room and seriously said to her, "Yaya, this boy isn't suitable for you." Her rebellious streak surfaced again, "How is he unsuitable? At least, he doesn't drink, his temper is much better than yours, and he never argues with me." Her father was embarrassed but still tried to persuade her, "You lack experience. This kind of person may not argue with you, but they silently remember every little thing."
As autumn winds began, after evening study sessions, the night breeze was already chilly. As soon as she stepped out of the classroom, she saw a shadow flickering outside the window. Her heart tightened, "Who's there?" That person immediately responded, "Yaya, don't be afraid, it's dad." Her father walked up to her, handed her a bundle, and instructed her, "It's getting cooler, you always kick off the quilt when sleeping since you were young, be careful not to catch a cold." Back in the dormitory, she opened the package and found a new quilt. Burying her head inside, she took a deep breath, full of the scent of sunshine. She knew that her father must have sunned it all day and rushed to bring it to her.
In early spring, seeing her drab clothes, her father insisted on buying her new ones. He proudly opened his wallet to show her, revealing a stack of new bills, which were his newly collected retirement funds. She smiled, linked arms with her father, and playfully said, "So this is what it feels like to lean on a wealthy person!" Her father strutted like a celebrity, making both her and the aunt burst into laughter uncontrollably.
Her father wasn't actually a good-tempered person, often irritable and easily angered. Frequently, just over trivial daily matters, he would have a big argument with her mother, each time reaching dramatic heights. Her father was addicted to alcohol, and every time he drank, he would get drunk and start arguing. Since she started remembering things, there had rarely been a peaceful and harmonious time at home. Inside and out, the house was always filled with the atmosphere of explosives.
She obstinately stuck to her own choice and got married in her second year of work. However, her father's prediction tragically came true. She inherited her father's short temper, and when anger arose, arguments were inevitable. He never argued with her, but his silence and persistence in not giving in made her even harder to bear. Silent struggles, living apart, and when her child was two years old, they divorced.
When she was two years old, she once had a high fever and lost consciousness. Her father carried her to the hospital in the middle of the night. On the way, she, who had been unconscious for a whole day, suddenly opened her eyes and clearly called out, "Dad!"
But, being his daughter, she knew she was happy.
She was just a spoiled child by her father.
After the divorce, she lived alone with her child, suffering from insomnia, losing large amounts of hair, dissatisfied with her job, and aging rapidly. Once, her child suddenly asked her, "Does daddy not want us anymore?" She held back her tears and said, "No matter what, mom will always love you." As soon as the words left her mouth, she stopped, realizing that her father had once said the same thing to her, but had she ever understood her father's feelings?
The next day, her father suddenly arrived, disregarding her protests, packed her things, picked up her child, and said, "Let's go home with grandpa."
She thought this kind of happiness would last forever, until one day, her father solemnly informed her that from now on, she would live with him. Later, she learned that it was her mother who proposed the divorce. Her mother said, "I'm tired of the quarrelsome life we've had for so many years." Her father persisted for a long time, eventually choosing to compromise. His only condition was that he must take her with him.
She walked ahead, thinking, in this lifetime, who else would wait for her whole life like her father? Thinking about this, tears couldn't help but stream down her face. She didn't dare to wipe them, fearing her father would see from behind. She straightened her back and continued walking forward.
Her feelings towards her father were complex. She once pitied her mother and thought in her heart: when looking for a boyfriend in the future, the first requirement would be a gentle and tolerant personality, and the second would be not smoking or drinking. She would absolutely not choose a man like her father: fiery, critical, nitpicky, turning the house upside down over trivial matters.
But, she knew that as his daughter, she was happy.