[Someone's Life Experience]

In the poor house of the 1980s, he was a wild boy who was ignored by everyone—— His parents were busy doing business and kicked him around like a ball: one day he would sit in his grandfather's house eating cold, hard corn, the next day he would huddle in the drafty woodshed of his uncle's house, and occasionally when he returned to his own house, there would be only a dusty stove in the house. When it gets cold, I wrap myself in patches of cotton wool and live like a kite with its strings broken. When you reach the rebellious stage, rebellion grows like weeds. He dyed his hair yellow and wandered the streets with a group of half-grown children: stealing chickens from neighbors in exchange for wine, blocking students to steal a few pocket coins, and pumping his fists faster than reason. Until late that night, three people fought with each other. Two brothers were stabbed until they were covered in blood. He was hit on the head by a big stone. Before he fainted, his eyes were only dark red. When he woke up again, the boy's madness was shattered. When he was 16 years old, his mother forcibly sent him to work at the dock... Is this all he can do in his life?