After Kicking His Adopted Son Away, the Scumbag Father's Character Collapsed

When I was still in my mother's womb, I listened to my mother reciting a novel called "The Bird in the Palm of the Powerful Minister" about a wife-chasing crematorium every day, which caused me to suffer from severe "scumbag PTSD" as soon as I was born. Other girls chase stars and call them brother, but I am familiar with criminal law books, research PUA cases, and am determined to send all potential scumbags to use sewing machines. When other girls tasted the sweetness of love for the first time, I was worried that my body and mind would be deceived, so I worked hard to practice women's self-defense, and I could make a 1.8-Meter-strong man kneel down and sing "conquer" with one move. But until I was eighteen years old, I never met the man who treated me as a substitute, took out my kidneys, and finally wanted to get me back. My adoptive parents are role models of love, and my male classmates are innocent and loving dogs. Even the dogs on the roadside wag their tails when they see me. Just when I almost thought I had learned "Three Hundred and Sixty Strategies to Counter PUA" in vain. My richest and most powerful father sent someone to take me home. The stern man looked at me with scrutiny and disdain in his eyes, and his adopted son stood beside him. "You will live here from now on and don't cause any trouble to the family." My adopted brother looked gentle on the surface, but that night he blocked me in the corridor and said to me using the same lines as the male protagonist in the novel: "You'd better stay calm and don't try to take anyone else's place." Just when I thought the drama at the crematorium was finally about to begin, my dad suddenly kicked the door open, knocking his adopted son staggering. He pointed at his adopted son angrily: "Who do you think you are? How dare you talk to my daughter like this? If you come, you will be treated according to the family law!"