"Don't you care at all?! Damn woman! You don't care at all even now! Can you bear to let your lovely son know that his mother is actually just a prostitute who can't do anything?
?!"
—— Father Han looked coldly at his wife's originally beautiful face, but now it had been tortured by him to the point that it had long lost its brilliance, and was only as pale as paper, and the blood stains hanging on her lips looked so...
It's so shocking! Oh, he originally loved her, how could he get to this point? How could he be in such torment with each other?
Han's father felt guilty for a while. He actually had the urge to reach out his hand again and wipe away the unsightly blood stain at the corner of his wife's mouth. But... he held back. He told himself that he must be more cruel and never be soft-hearted. It was her.
I'm sorry to him, everything today is his wife's fault!
The little Han Xichen stood there stunned for a moment, unable to digest his father's terrifying words.
But his mother, that scarred woman, kept her eyebrows downcast, making it difficult for people to see the darkness in her eyes.
I just heard her say quietly: "You don't care anymore. You don't care about your son's feelings. What else do I care about?"
Father Han's originally somewhat soothing expression turned livid again. He narrowed his eyes dangerously and angrily said, "What did you just say?"
The woman raised her head with difficulty, looked into his cold eyes, and took a deep breath: "Yes, I am a prostitute, so why don't you marry me? How noble do you think you are? Don't you remember that you were a prostitute?
Who got me with money?"
The last trace of reason in Father Han's mind was destroyed by the faint smile on the woman's lips. A look of fierce anger suddenly appeared in his eyes: "Very good! Then you don't mind letting your son see it in person."
See what a slutty woman his mother is!"
So many years! After so many years! Even though their son has grown up to this age, no matter how much he treats her with all his heart, she still can't forget that man!
Father Han was so angry that he completely lost his mind. He suddenly let go of his wife, then roughly pulled off his tie, turned around and walked towards his son Han Xichen. His tall figure blocked the light in the room, making him
The little Han Xichen could not clearly see the cruel expression on his face at that time, and waves of fear surged in her young heart. At that time... he was only five or six years old.
"Dad——" Before Han Xichen could finish his words, he felt his arm being lifted mercilessly. What happened next was something he would never forget...
Father Han tied him to the railing at the head of the bed with a tie! Then...
Then he watched his father frantically lift his mother on the ground, violently tear open the only white nightgown stained with blood on her body, and push her to the window without any gentleness, not caring about his mother's desperate efforts at that time.
She resisted, unzipped her trousers, lifted up her legs covered with scars and bloodstains, and moved her body with a crazy rhythm...
Those words and those cruel pictures are so terrifying and hurtful, how can we forget them——
Listen, who is saying:
"Come on, scream! Let your son see what kind of bitch his mother is!"
At that time, in Han Xichen's eyes, his father seemed to have turned into a terrifying beast, destroying his weak mother!
He wanted to beg his father for mercy, he wanted to shout for help, but he could only open his mouth and couldn't make a sound. His mother's screams and his father's curses filled his young eardrums and heart.
A storm suddenly broke out outside the window, the thunder roared, and the lightning flashed strangely as if it was vowing to break away from the clouds!
That year, Han Xichen's eyes widened and his body trembled. His consciousness was blurred...
I only remember that the bloody leg hanging from my father's waist was shaking helplessly.
I only remember my father looking up to the sky and roaring in pain and despair.
Then, a flash of silver flashed across his sight. His father's tall body froze in vain. Slowly, slowly, he slid off his mother's body and collapsed on the floor. A large pool of water quickly emerged under him.
Bright red blood...
I only remember that in the pool of blood, his hand reached towards his mother persistently, trying to grab something, but in the end he could only hang down feebly. The open palm of his hand was empty and so cold.
I only remember that my mother's hands holding the dagger were covered in blood. She staggered to him, raised a hand and gently touched his face. His face was also stained with blood...
At that time, the mother's eyes were filled with a gentle and gentle smile. She moved her pale lips and said to him: "My dear son, my mother loves you very much."
At that time, she looked at the little Han Xichen, and her beautiful eyes really burst into tears. She continued, "But I love you so much, why... aren't you Feng Wenbo's son?"
After saying that, her mother's soft and boneless hands raised the dagger and placed it on her own neck. Before Han Xichen could recover from her father's death, she gently touched the scarlet red...
Blood spattered wantonly from her beautiful and slender neck, spraying on Han Xichen's face and body. The feeling was hot and cold, and it was cold to the bone marrow!
It's still storming outside.
There was silence inside the house.
Back then, when he was only five or six years old, he looked at the two cold corpses in front of him. One was his father's expression of unwillingness to die, and the other was his mother's heartless face of complete relief after her death. The only thing that was the same was their faces.
The eyes are always open after death.
That year, that day, a little boy named Han Xichen felt a pain in his stomach, nausea and terror. The violent spasms made his vision go dark, and then he completely lost consciousness...
It's so cold, so dark, so desperate, such a family tragedy!
When he woke up again, little Han Xichen was lying in a strange room, with a yellowed diary and the blue cardboard box he had made for his father's birthday separated by the bedside.
He lowered his head and looked at his abnormally red and swollen wrists caused by his father's cruel binding. No one knew who had applied medicine on them. But... whenever he thought of the scenes before his parents died, he still felt a dull pain in his stomach.
Want to vomit.
The storm outside the window of the strange room had long since stopped, and the sky was so clear that there was not even a cloud.
He hesitantly stretched out his little hand to pick up the diary and opened it. Juanxiu's handwriting came into view. Since he was a child, he has been a genius. His receptive ability is very strong. He knows many words and he always takes first place. But he has never
I didn't get a word of appreciation or a look of concern and love from my parents.
At that time, when he was only six years old, he looked through his mother's diary very slowly. His young heart was extremely heavy. The more he looked down, the more filled with hatred he felt! He remembered what his mother said before she died.
The name: Feng Wenbo——Feng Qianyu’s father!
**
Please give me a gold medal. Please. I will work hard to add more. The following articles will definitely be more exciting.