That Good-for-Nothing Man Is My Dad

When I was eight, I saw the workshop supervisor steal my dad’s spot on the list of outstanding workers.

My dad stood there without saying a word.

I wrote in my diary, “One day, I’ll be a hundred times better than Dad.”

Later, I got into a university in the provincial capital, succeeded in business, and bought a house and a car.

I thought I had finally beaten him.

Then my company went bankrupt, and with nowhere else to turn, I called home for the first time.

My dad said only one thing on the other end of the line:

“Come home. Your dad will make sure you have something to eat.”

He brought out all his savings: 150,000 yuan.

“I know it’s not much, but it’s everything I have.”

Much later, my son shouted at me:

“You’re nowhere near as good as Grandpa.”

Only then did I understand:

I’d spent half my life proving I was better than him,

and it took me even longer to admit:

I wasn’t as good as he was.