Chapter 42: Zhuzhu, Why Don't You Hit Me?
The surrounding people's gazes, whether intentional or not, drifted to her ears.
Shen Zhuying's eyelids drooped, and her nose began to sting.
She thought she had long since stopped caring about such gazes, but for some reason, she felt like crying now.
She tugged at her wrist, which was still held tightly by Zhao Zijian, and said softly, "Let go."
He didn't move.
Shen Zhuying repeated, "Let go, and I'll go with you."
No matter what his purpose was, she didn't want to stand there, being stared at like a monkey.
They walked to a secluded spot.
Shen Zhuying got straight to the point. "What did you come here for?"
"Your father just missed you..."
She cut him off, her eyes cold. "Get to the point. I don't have much time."
"I saw your flower shop is doing well, and I heard your husband's family is quite wealthy..." He rubbed his hands, looking a bit embarrassed.
"Could you... lend me some money?"
Her eyes held a hint of sarcasm. "Did you lose it in stocks again or gamble it away?"
"I just need a bit more investment. If I put in a bit more, I'll get it back. You can consider it... an investment. I'll pay you back double," Zhao Zijian said anxiously, trying to convince her.
"You can think of it as a dowry from your father."
Shen Zhuying wondered if her hearing aid was broken.
She smiled faintly. "You want to consider the money I lend you as a dowry?"
Are you okay?
"Why can't you understand? I told you, this is a sure thing! It won't lose money!" Zhao Zijian's face turned red.
"What did you mean just now? Are you looking down on me?"
"You all look down on me! Those bosses look down on me, Shen An looks down on me, and now you're looking down on me too!!"
His expression gradually became manic. Shen Zhuying took two steps back, clutching her bag tightly.
"I don't have money. Go ask someone else," Shen Zhuying said, trying to leave.
But Zhao Zijian grabbed her bag tightly.
"You're lying to your old man, aren't you? This bag costs tens of thousands, and the clothes you're wearing, and that ring..."
Zhao Zijian's eyes lit up.
He switched to grabbing her hand.
"Can you lend me your ring for a few days? I'll return it. Just lend me your ring and save your father..."
He tried to pull the ring off her finger as he spoke.
"Zhuzhu, save your father."
Shen Zhuying's voice was trembling, and she was on the verge of tears.
As the ring was about to be taken, Shen Zhuying suddenly lowered her head and bit down hard on the man's hand.
The man let out a pained hiss and violently jerked his hand away, causing Shen Zhuying to stumble backward and hit her head against a tree. Her hearing aid was dislodged in the struggle and fell to the ground.
Shen Zhuying covered her hands behind her back, crouched in the corner, and took a deep breath, unsure of what to do.
She couldn't hear anything now.
The man stood in front of her, his face frantic, but she couldn't hear his words.
He slowly approached her, his footsteps crunching in the snow, but to Shen Zhuying, it was a silent approach.
She wanted to scream for help, but only a faint whimper escaped her throat.
The dark shadow loomed over her, and she wrapped her arms around her knees, burying her face in her lap, waiting for him to grab her hair and slap her.
But nothing happened.
She looked up cautiously and saw Zhao Zijian walking away, his footsteps unsteady in the snow.
The hearing aid lay neatly in front of her.
Shen Zhuying sniffled and buried her face in her knees again.
How could she describe Zhao Zijian, this terrible father?
When she was young, he would clean her dirty clothes and change her into fresh ones when Shen An wasn't home.
On New Year's Eve in the city center, he would carry her on his shoulders, making her taller than him, so she could see the fireworks.
On nights like this, snowy and quiet, he would build snowmen with her, patiently telling her that snowmen may have long noses, but they're not good at lying.
When did he change?
Perhaps it was a long time ago.
But in Shen Zhuying's heart, there was a clear dividing line.
The day he divorced Shen An.
From that day on, Zhao Zijian started drinking, smoking, and gambling.
Shen Zhuying was almost 12 years old then, and she understood many things.
She knew it was because Dad had wronged Mom, so Mom chose to leave.
So every time Zhao Ziqian came home drunk, crying, he would say to her, “Zhuzhu, Zhuzhu, go beg Mom to forgive Dad, will you? Go beg Mom to come back, will you?”
“You miss your elder sister too, don’t you? Haven’t you wanted to call Mom several times? Why don’t you call?”
“Zhuzhu, why don’t you call?”
He cried so sadly.
But Shen Zhuying never responded to him, only fed him the hangover soup one mouthful after another. She had learned it online; it said it could relieve headaches.
“Dad.” When Zhao Ziqian fell asleep, she would quietly touch his head.
“Sleep a little. When you wake up, you won’t be sad anymore.”
At that time, Shen Zhuying didn’t understand.
How could pain disappear just by sleeping once?
Pain would only, with the passage of time, slowly evolve into resentment and distortion.
At least Zhao Ziqian was that kind of person.
He came home later and later, and his temper became more and more violent. Whenever something displeased him, he would start throwing things.
He would force Shen Zhuying to call Shen An.
Shen Zhuying had never called Shen An even once.
So she would get scolded.
Occasionally, she would also get beaten.
After beating her, he would suddenly sober up, then kneel on the ground and start pounding his head hard, saying, “Dad has wronged you, but why can’t you just behave?
Why won’t you call Mom?
Don’t you want Dad and Mom to be with you together, little one?”
Dad had gone mad.
He did too many bad things, and became like this.
But bad things are done by oneself.
At twelve, Shen Zhuying had already understood this truth.
But why couldn’t Dad, an adult, understand it yet?
One day, he came home drunk again.
Shen Zhuying skillfully went to make him hangover soup. He reeked of alcohol; after only one sip, he turned around and vomited, roaring, “You trying to poison your old man?”
He grabbed her hair and slapped her, then threw her aside.
“You trying to poison your old man, Zhao Zhuying? You trying to poison your old man, Zhao Zhuying?”
He curled up in the corner, cheeks flushed, expression unfocused, still muttering that same sentence over and over.
So he didn’t notice that Shen Zhuying was lying unconscious on the floor, with fresh blood gurgling down from her ear.
Cherry: Hello everyone! I'll be updating this novel here~ Thank you for reading~~
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