I was born a bad boy, with a ruthless streak in my bones.
The adoptive mother was partial and gave the only egg custard in the family to her younger brother, saying that going to school would waste his brain.
I nodded, turned around, broke the neck of the old hen that laid eggs, and threw it into the manure pit.
My adoptive parents were so angry that they wanted to marry me off to a lame bachelor from the next village in exchange for a bride price.
I directly burned all the firewood and fodder that the cripple's family had for the winter, and asked his family to wait for the northwest wind.
Now no one dared to take me. My adoptive parents locked me in the woodshed and wanted to starve me to death.
Okay, forget it then!
In the middle of the night, I lit up the threshing floor in the village where the wheat had just been harvested, and the fire lit up half the sky.
So, when my biological father, who was now the factory director, drove a car to pick me up, the team leader led the whole village, knelt at the entrance of the village and kowtowed to me three times.
The adoptive mother hugged my mother's legs and cried until tears ran down her nose: "This girl has a dark heart. Your family is rich, but you must keep an eye on her!"
My mother only took it as an angry comment from a poor family.
It wasn't until she returned to the city that she held her adopted daughter in her hand, wearing a new dress from Deliang, and pressed the recorder proudly.
"Sister, I know you just came from the country and haven't seen this brick machine before. Dad asked someone to bring it from abroad. You won't break it, right?"
