Chen Zhang's birth was an exchange paid for with a life. His mother died giving birth to him, and that original sin became the first, deepest chasm in his soul.
His father saw "carrying on the family line" as a belief above all else. He brutally exploited his daughters, pocketing every last bit of their meager earnings to save for his son's future. With his son, Chen Zhang, he practiced a twisted form of nurturing. He beat and berated him, yet after sobering up, he would stuff tuition money into his hands with calloused fingers and roar, "You'd better make something of yourself, damn it!"
Chen Zhang grew up torn between being hated and having all his father's hopes pinned on him. He ate food bought with his sister's flesh and blood, and wore clothes paid for with their youth. He bore his father's crushing, violent expectations. His name, Zhang, meant both the shield his family expected him to become and the mountain of guilt that grew inside him, almost too high to climb. He worked hard in silence, believing that repaying this twisted kindness was the sole purpose of his life.
Then Shen Jibai appeared like an untimely shaft of daylight, breaking apart the bleak logic by which he had survived.
She possessed a breadth of spirit and resolve utterly at odds with this place. She saw the suffering of everyone trapped in this silent cycle: the sacrificed sisters, the father consumed by obsession, and Chen Zhang, who had turned himself into a living symbol of atonement.
"Your father 'loves' you in his own way, even if it cuts like a knife." She met Chen Zhang's gaze, her words clear and forceful. "But your sisters didn't support you so you could repeat that kind of 'love.' You don't have to become the mountain your father expects. You have to break free of his cycle of fate."
