After returning, he couldn’t read or write Chinese, speaking only simple phrases. At school, he was bullied by classmates who called him a ‘fake foreigner,’ and he would respond with violence. Xiang Yang was a stubborn child who never admitted defeat. He studied late into the night, and his teachers and classmates thought he was a genius. He once told me, ‘Mom, no one will ever make decisions for me again. My life will be in my own hands.’ Such words reflected how hard he had lived abroad. To save money for a ticket home, he secretly drew pictures on the street. After seven years, he rushed back, yearning for a place to belong.
He Jiangyang’s father took over the family business and repeatedly suggested bringing Xiangyang back, but I believe he will never return to the Gao family. Such a man deprived Xiangyang of maternal love and never showed him paternal love, casting a heavy shadow over his childhood. I know Xiangyang harbors hatred for those who bullied and tormented him.
His father once declared that Xiangyang would never amount to anything and would ultimately have to come back to him.
“I know Xiangyang wants to succeed and doesn’t want to lose to his father or anyone who has bullied him. But many paths lead to success; there’s no need for constant conflict. I worry he might be degrading himself to make his father regret it. Looking at him now, I’m truly worried! Jing Xin, you don’t know how excellent he was before!”
Jiang’s mother grabbed Jing Xin’s hand: “You must help me take care of Xiangyang. He’s a pitiful child with a bad temper but a good heart. After I’m gone, I fear he’ll be alone.”
“Auntie, you’re still so young; you’ll live to a hundred! In a few years, when Xiangyang gets married and has children, you’ll be surrounded by grandchildren. How happy that would be! And I’ll visit often.”
Jing Xin felt puzzled, only wanting to say something nice to make her happy. She had always lamented her lack of social grace, her inability to read others’ thoughts, leaving her tongue-tied.
