Fed by Tenderness - Chapter 3

Chapter 3

When I got home, the house was the same smoky, suffocating mess as always.

My dad was passed out drunk on the sofa. Lin Xiaoyue sat beside him, painting her nails while chatting on the phone.

When she caught sight of me coming in, she said in that sarcastic, singsong voice of hers, “That little bitch my husband’s ex-wife gave birth to is back. The second she walks through the door, the whole place starts to stink. It makes me want to puke!”

It wasn’t the first time I’d heard something like that.

Back when my mom gave birth to me, my dad flew into a rage because I wasn’t a son.

After that, whenever he drank, he hit people.

He hit my mom. He hit me.

My mom was beaten until she had a mental breakdown, and then she started to hate me.

She hated me for not being a boy. Hated me for making her suffer so much.

Then my dad found another woman outside the marriage and took the initiative to ask my mom for a divorce.

My mom left in a hurry. She didn’t take anything with her.

Including me.

My dad brought Lin Xiaoyue into our home.

He wanted Lin Xiaoyue to give him a son, but years of smoking and drinking had hollowed out his body. He couldn’t have children anymore.

My dad couldn’t accept that his only child was a daughter.

So he beat and cursed me at the slightest provocation, and let Lin Xiaoyue abuse me however she wanted.

But whether they hit me or cursed me, I could endure it.

The only thing I couldn’t get through was hunger.

They never prepared food for me.

In the morning, I would drink enough water to fill my stomach before going to school. At noon, I helped the cafeteria aunties serve food in exchange for a meal.

The hardest part was night.

I was so hungry, so terribly hungry, my stomach growling loud enough to shake the sky.

When the hunger became unbearable, I asked my dad for living expenses. I said that if they didn’t want to see me, I could live at school.

Lin Xiaoyue’s curses nearly blew the roof off.

My dad’s slap landed hard across my face, so hard I couldn’t hear clearly out of my left ear for several days.

That was the only time I thought of asking my mother for help.

I called the number she’d left me.

But all that came through the receiver was: “The number you have dialed does not exist. Please check the number and try again.”

Chapter 6

I thought hunger was something you could get used to if you were hungry long enough.

Until one day, I suddenly fainted in the middle of class and scared my homeroom teacher half to death.

At the hospital, my homeroom teacher couldn’t get in touch with my parents, so she could only try to persuade me.

“Zhou Shuran, I understand that girls all want to look pretty, but you can’t diet yourself into this state. Look at you-you’ve nearly starved yourself as thin as a garlic sprout!”

“I’m not dieting.”

I told my homeroom teacher what was going on at home.

She was furious. She said she couldn’t understand how parents like that could exist.

She said, “Zhou Shuran, don’t be afraid. As your teacher, I absolutely won’t let you end up in the hospital from hunger again.”

So the next day, she started bringing me breakfast.

She even took my pride into consideration, afraid the other students would notice. She deliberately made up an excuse, saying she needed my help grading test papers, and called me to the office.

On the first day, she brought a hand-grabbed pancake.

It was big and thick, with sausage and egg added in, plus a huge slice of bacon.

Watching me wolf it down, my sentimental homeroom teacher’s eyes reddened.

The other teachers heard about what had happened to me too.

The math teacher came over to look at the pancake, then shook his head.

“Teacher Wei, your cooking skills aren’t great. The wrap is a little burnt.”

My homeroom teacher looked a bit embarrassed.

“I usually just order takeout myself, so I rarely cook. But Zhou Shuran is at the age where she’s still growing. I can’t just have her eat takeout too, so I made it myself.

“But practice makes perfect. It definitely won’t be burnt next time.”

The history teacher adjusted his glasses.

“I cook every day. Let me take over tomorrow.”

The math teacher immediately chimed in.

“Then I’ll do the day after tomorrow. I’m best at making breakfast.”

“Oh, come on, let’s make a schedule. We can take turns.”