Bastard! You’re just a fatherless brat!
Ever since I can remember, all the kids called me a bastard, and so did the adults. My mom and I moved twice because of it, but no matter where we went, after a while, everyone started calling me that again. I hate that word.
Bastard? No, I’m not a bastard! I must have a dad, right?
Every time I asked my mom about it, she’d just cry and get really sad. That made me too scared to ask anymore.
But I know I’m not a bastard, because my mom loves me, and my dad must love me too.
Even though I’ve never met him.
At first I didn’t know what ‘bastard’ meant, but later, Chubby said that kids without dads are bastards.
Chubby was someone I met after we moved here. He was a bit older than me, and at first he was nice, but after he found out I didn’t have a dad, he stopped talking to me and started bullying me with the other village kids.
Their moms wouldn’t let them play with me, saying I’d ‘taint’ them, saying being a bastard is contagious.
Every time I heard that, I wanted to cry. I wanted to tell everyone I wasn’t, really, but nobody would listen to me.
Nobody knows, but when I was five or six, I really wanted to ask, Mom, do I have a dad? I must have one, right?
But every time I saw Mom cry, saw her working as hard as everyone else sewing but getting paid half as much, I didn’t want to ask anymore. I was scared to see her cry. Maybe I really am a bastard like everyone says, and Mom has to work so hard to take care of me.
In my memory, besides Mom, I’ve never seen any other relatives. I think I don’t need them anyway—having Mom is enough.
After that, I stopped hoping to play with the other kids. I learned to help Mom collect firewood, carry water, and talk to myself when I was alone. I thought, playing by myself is just the same.
But as I got older, all the Chubbies started going to school. I was the only one left in the village, so I liked sitting by the big tree at the door, staring at the school. From there, I could see it clearly, and sometimes I could even hear the kids reading out loud inside.
Mom saw me doing this and asked, 'Do you want to study?'
I didn’t say anything, just stared at her blankly.
Mom sighed and patted my head, then started crying again. I knew she was already exhausted trying to feed us both, and the school fees were way too much for us to afford.
'Mom, I don’t like studying.' I didn’t want to see her cry, so I lied.
When Mom heard me, she only cried harder. She said she’d definitely let me study, no matter what.
After that, Mom’s life got even busier. At home, it was just me and an empty house.
I knew Mom was trying to earn money for my tuition, but honestly, it was impossible. Everyone knew how expensive the school was—it was way out of our reach.
Now, whenever Mom was out, I learned to cook for myself. After eating, I’d sit under the big tree and stare at the school.
One day, school let out early. Chubby and a bunch of other kids came out together—I didn’t have time to hide, and they surrounded me, mocking me: ‘Fatherless wild child! Fatherless wild child!’
‘No, I’m not! I’m not!’
‘You are a bastard! You’re a bastard, a fatherless brat!’ Several kids stuck out their tongues and laughed at me.
‘Waaah, I do have a dad! I have a dad!’
‘Then where’s your dad? We’ve never seen him. My mom says you’re just a bastard!’ Chubby yelled, and the other kids laughed even harder.
‘It’s not like that, it’s not!’ I wanted to argue, but I really didn’t know what to say. I wanted to run away, but I didn’t know where to go.
‘Kids without dads don’t get to go to school! Kids without dads don’t get to go to school!’ Chubby led the chant, then started throwing stones at me. Soon, all the kids were throwing rocks, but I barely felt any pain. I just wanted to tell them I wasn’t a bastard. I really wasn’t.
"Stop!" Just when I was in trouble, a really nice voice rang out.
I looked up. It was a little girl, wearing a light yellow padded jacket, her face soft and pretty, her eyes big and bright—almost like they could talk. I forgot to cry and just stared at her.
She pointed at Chubby and asked, "Why are you bullying him?"
"I... I was just playing with him," Chubby said with a weird smile. But I could tell his eyes lit up—because that little girl was honestly the prettiest I’d ever seen.
"Playing?" The girl raised her fist, stood on tiptoe, and punched him hard on the head. Chubby dropped to the ground and burst into tears.
I was stunned. I never thought she’d be so strong—strong enough to knock Chubby down.
"Listen up! He’s my person. If you bully him again, I’ll beat you up!" The little girl waved her fist threateningly.
Chubby started bawling and ran off, with the rest of the kids following him.
I forgot to cry, just stared dumbly at the little girl. She walked over to me, like a flower blooming in winter—so pretty.
"Here, don’t cry. I don’t have a dad either, but I don’t cry—because only if you get strong will people stop bullying you." She looked at me seriously, her big dark eyes sparkling.
"Here, this is for you." The little girl took out a pouch for coins. "My mom made this for my birthday. There’s just a little green sprout embroidered on it, but it means something really powerful. Today I’m giving it to you. From now on, you have to be like the little sprout—don’t be afraid to get knocked down, keep moving forward. That way, one day you’ll be able to protect the people you want to protect." She gave me a big, bright smile.
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"But... this is your birthday present, and there’s silver inside." I wiped my tears and felt the pouch, heavy with coins.
"It’s fine! I’m giving it all to you—just use it for school. If you become Top Scholar and make big money someday, you can pay me back with interest!"
"But... but my mom says I shouldn’t take things from other people." I was conflicted, though I really wanted to go to school.
"It’s not taking—it’s ‘depositing,’ like leaving a treasure at the pawnshop! I’m just leaving it with you for now. When you become Top Scholar, you can return it to me!"
"But..."
"Oh, enough with the buts! I believe in you, and you have to believe in yourself too!" She didn’t let me finish, just shoved the pouch into my hands. Looking into her eyes, I felt confident for the first time ever. I blurted out, "Okay! I’ll definitely become Top Scholar and repay you someday!"
"Good, that’s the spirit!"
"Miss, we need to go," a kind uncle nearby smiled and urged her.
"Okay!" The little girl laughed and ran off.
"Hey, what’s your name?" I realized as she was leaving that I hadn’t asked.
"I’m Ivy Shen. Remember to study hard and pay me back someday!"
From then on, I remembered her name—Ivy Shen. And that kind uncle.
I had to study hard. I had to make something of myself. I had to find her and repay her.
After more than ten years of bitter study, I finally became Top Scholar. But on the day I passed, my mom left me forever. At least she was smiling—she always said she knew I’d make something of myself. Before she died, she told me I really did have a dad—a truly talented dad.
Dad left his family for Mom, and they lived happily together. But one day, Dad went hunting in the mountains to get good food for his pregnant wife, and there was a landslide. The mountain collapsed, and he never came back.
Mom said Dad loved me—really loved me.
Mom smiled at the end and said Dad came to get her. She told me she was happy—truly happy.
After giving Mom a proper burial, my heart felt light—because I had a dad. A really great dad.
Once I’d taken care of everything, I set aside everything else and went to find her—the girl who kept me going all these years. Ivy Shen.
Sure enough, I found her soon. But she looked different, and for a moment I wondered if I’d made a mistake.
But when I saw that kind uncle, I knew I hadn’t made a mistake. Maybe she’d just grown up—or maybe something had happened to them.
But in my heart I knew—even if she looked totally different, as long as she was still herself, I’d stay by her side. She didn’t remember me. People said she was dumb, told me to stay away. But I didn’t care.
I found her and said, I want to marry you. Will you have me?
My face turned red as I said it. It was the boldest thing I’d ever done. I didn’t know how she’d react, but I had to say it. I didn’t care how many husbands she had—I just wanted to stay by her side.
She stared for a moment, then gave me a blank smile. "Okay."
People laughed and said, Look, that fool’s in love again!
I laughed too—a real laugh. Because now I could finally stay by her side and take care of her. Even if she didn’t remember anything, I remembered. You gave me hope when I was a kid. Now let me stay by your side and protect you, give you new hope.