Chapter 3The Price of a Daughter

It was too much bullying.

I pulled at my parents, wanting to go home.

My mom held my endlessly crying sister with one hand and patted my head with the other: "What does a child know? Just eat."

That night, as we left my uncle's house, my aunt smiled and twisted the knife in my mom's heart: "Sister-in-law, honestly, you have it much easier than I do."

"You don't know how exhausting it is to raise three boys."

There was no moonlight that night.

Every house was brightly lit.

The dim yellow light spilled over the muddy country road.

I softly asked my parents why we had to endure this.

My dad's tone was irritated: "What do you know, you're just a kid."

My mom's face was steeped in shadows: "Who asked me to be unable to bear a son."

Ah.

They didn't believe I would take care of them in their old age.

My dad didn't go to work in Texas.

Because he didn't have a son, there was no need to build a new house. We just got by day by day.

People say country folks are simple, but when they twist the knife, they are more ruthless than anyone.

I don't know when it started, but my dad got a nickname: "Mule Smith".

A mule is a hybrid of a horse and a donkey.

It cannot reproduce.

When the community was raising funds to repair the local church, someone laughed and suggested: "Let's skip the Mule's family. They don't have a son. Making him pay would be too much bullying."

My dad stayed silent. My mom only dared to choke back complaints at home, but put on a smiling face outside, never daring to argue back.

I couldn't change them, I could only make myself stronger.

They called my dad "Mule Smith," so I cursed their whole family as mules.

When my cousins bullied me and my sister, I used my teeth to bite and my feet to kick.

Even if my face was bruised and swollen, I had to tear a piece of flesh off them.

My grandma took away the chicks our family just hatched, saying she would raise them for us.

As she raised them, they became my uncle's.

I chased them all the way out and snatched them back.

My aunt tied her cow near our vegetable patch, and it ate a whole patch of newly sprouted spinach clean.

She hypocritically said it wasn't on purpose.

I opened the gate to her vegetable garden and let all the chickens in.

They pecked her whole garden of vegetables away.

She was so angry she stood with her hands on her hips, cursing my mother.

I cursed back at her: "If you dare to eat our vegetables again, I'll take a scythe and cut down all the crops in your field."

Gradually, I became notorious in the community.

Those aunts and older women always advised me: "You don't have a brother. If you have such a big temper, when you get married, there won't be anyone to back you up."

My mom also sighed looking at me: "Just like this, it's not even certain she can get married!"

But Mom.

I am only...

Protecting you, protecting this family.

In the blink of an eye, it was time for my sister to go to preschool.

That day, two major events occurred that affected my life.