To go undercover in the largest crime syndicate in the Southern state, I turned to the streets the very next day after being expelled from the police academy. My boyfriend broke up with me, saying I was an embarrassment. My best friend cut ties with me, scolding me for my self-destruction. Even my father, who used to dote on me the most, disowned me. I remained unmoved, continuing to sink into the darkness. In my third year on the streets, I finally infiltrated the syndicate. That day, my father wept bitterly as he severed our relationship, declaring he no longer had a daughter and wishing I were dead. For seven years, I never had a good night's sleep, tormented by my conscience almost daily. Finally, three days ago, another failed mission by the syndicate led them to discover my true identity. After transmitting the core evidence, I was tortured to death for ten grueling hours. My soul wandered, eventually returning to my father's side. 1 I hadn't seen my father in years, and his hair was completely white. His once upright posture was gone. From a distance, he looked as if he were carrying a mountain on his back, aged and hunched. A neighbor, Mr. Miller, saw my father and initiated a conversation with a smile. "Hey, Arthur, hasn't your daughter come back this year?" "The streets are dangerous. Hope nothing happened to her." My father's calm face immediately darkened upon hearing this. He gave a cold snort and cursed loudly. "I haven't had a daughter for ten years." "Even if I did, she wouldn't have survived until today. She should've been dead long ago." As if still unsatisfied, he stomped his foot and yelled. "I, Arthur Sterling, served in the military when I was young, and worked hard at the factory after my honorable discharge. I've lived a clean life. How could I raise such an animal?" "Her death would be her greatest contribution to the Sterling family." Hearing this, a sharp pain shot through my heart. It hurt more than the thousand cuts the crime syndicate inflicted on me. I could count the times I'd been home these past years on one hand. But every time I saw my father, the words I heard were exactly the same. "You scumbag, society's reject, what are you doing back here?" "You're not welcome here. Get the hell out." "Dad, it wasn't easy for me to come back. Just let me have a meal with you." "I promise I'll leave right after I eat. I won't bother you." I would hug my father's arm and act spoiled, not expecting him to dote on me like when I was a kid. I only hoped for a little more time with him. But his face would remain grim, and he would throw the garbage from the doorway right at my face. Old wrappers and leftover food would cover my entire body. Seeing this, the neighbors would point and whisper. "Arthur is too ruthless. He won't even have a meal with his daughter." "What do you know? This girl looks docile, but she's no good. She leads gangs to cause trouble outside, doing all sorts of bad things." My face burned with shame. Looking at my furious father, I stayed silent for a moment before turning to leave. Covered in sour stench and garbage, I sat on the steps outside all night. Although I felt wronged, I didn't blame him. My father served in the military when he was young, but was forced to medically discharge due to an injury, becoming a factory worker. When I was little, he often said that if he hadn't been injured and discharged early, he would have become a glorious police officer. Other kids listened to fairy tales before bed, while I listened to my father's military stories. To make up for my father's regrets, I studied hard and, living up to expectations, got into the police academy. The sound of sneers interrupted my thoughts. Looking at their mocking faces, I knew these neighbors were doing it on purpose. Everyone in the neighborhood knew that Arthur's daughter was expelled from the police academy for insubordination, throwing her bright future down the drain. And Arthur, who used to be so proud of me getting into the academy, became everyone's laughingstock. When he was younger, Mr. Miller was often caught by my father for petty theft, becoming a regular at the police station. Their relationship had never been good, so his words were extremely targeted. Hearing my father's words, he laughed heartily, his eyes full of mockery. "Arthur, what kind of talk is that?" "No matter how much of a scumbag she is, she's still your seed, your own daughter. You can't hide from that." My father's face turned ashen, his chest heaving continuously. He gritted his teeth, seemingly using all his strength. "I don't have a daughter like that. What she has done is unforgivable." "God will take care of that evil creature sooner or later." After speaking, my father hurried away, his steps slightly staggering. The neighbors laughed loudly. Floating beside my father, my eyes were red. When he was young, he was respected wherever he went. Now, in his old age, he was being humiliated because of me. I watched helplessly as the downward curve of my father's mouth trembled slightly, and his eye rims slowly turned red. It felt like ten thousand blades piercing my heart. I knew he couldn't hear me, but I still stood by his side and tremblingly said the words I had held in my heart for a long time. "Dad, I'm sorry." 2 Returning home, my father sat on the sofa, panting heavily. Fine sweat covered his forehead. A moment later, he pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. My father carefully unfolded it. I froze for a second before realizing what it was. It was my admission letter to the police academy from back then. More than a decade had passed, and it was already covered with the mottled traces of time. The once bold and vigorous characters were now blurred and illegible. But my father picked up his glasses from the table, sat up straight, and softly began to read. "Student Sarah Sterling, you have been admitted to our academy... to become a prospective cadet..." My father's voice grew louder, and waves of sorrow welled up in my heart. My whole being was enveloped in grief; I couldn't catch my breath for a long time. Scenes from the past flashed before my eyes. I remember it was a summer day, the sweltering heat making my clothes stick tightly to my body. I held the admission letter in my hand and ran towards home. The cool breeze brushed my cheeks, as if the whole world were cheering for me. "Dad! I got in! Dad! I got in!" I yelled all the way, attracting the neighbors' attention. My father, in his prime then, ran out from the hallway immediately. His face was filled with joy. His big hands held my admission letter, looking at it over and over again. The bright light in his eyes was as scorching as the sun in the sky. "Good girl, you are Daddy's pride. Daddy is proud of you." He grabbed my waist and lifted me high. That was the closest I ever got to the sky. I remember that day, my father took me walking around the neighborhood for a whole day. He showed the admission letter to everyone he met, proudly patting his chest. "Police academy, my daughter, got in." Every neighbor who saw it gave a thumbs up, smiling and saying. "Like father, like daughter." "Arthur's daughter is just as good as any man, getting into the police academy, making us proud." But no one expected that in the second year, I would be expelled from the academy for insubordination. The day I came home carrying my luggage, my father's eyes were bloodshot. It was the first time I ever saw him cry. He clutched his belt tightly in his hand, only whipped me twice, then sobbed and started whipping himself. "It's because I didn't educate you well, it's all my fault." That night, my father and I hugged each other and cried the entire night. From that day on, my father completely lowered his head in front of the neighbors. His straight back also gradually bent. He stayed cooped up at home all day, no longer going out to chat and play chess like before. He was afraid they would talk about me, afraid to hear their mockery, and even more afraid to hear their pity for me. Just like that, ten years passed. And I took a path completely opposite to before—joining the underworld. At first, my father scolded me, beat me, used all the words and logic he could think of to persuade me to turn back. But later, seeing that I never changed, he became completely desperate. He cut off all contact with me and changed the locks on the house. Even if I waited outside all night, all I got was his hateful glare. The father and daughter were no longer as harmonious as before, completely severing ties like enemies. So, when I saw this admission letter, I simply couldn't believe it. He actually still kept it. A long-standing bitterness, buried deep in my father's heart for ten years, enveloped me. I seemed to see him in countless days and nights, holding the admission letter and crying bitterly. Everything from before shattered all my father's pride, and the image of him crying bitterly hit me right between the eyes like bullets. 3 Time ticked by minute by minute. My father just sat blankly on the sofa, from dawn to dusk. He only snapped out of it when his stomach growled. He stood up shakily, walked to the kitchen, and opened the fridge. It was packed full of ingredients and cooked dishes. I was startled; I had prepared all these for him three days ago. Perhaps it was my sixth sense acting up. Three days ago, I had an inexplicable urge to go home. I bought bags and bags of things and stuffed them all into the fridge. The old man still looked at me with disgust, yelling repeatedly to kick me out. "Take your things and get out." "The Sterling family doesn't need a scumbag like you. Your things have blood on them, and they stink." The old man cursed harshly, but I was already used to it. I just replied calmly. "If it stinks, just soak it in ginger and scallion water." I took the ingredients into the kitchen, silently cooked a table full of food, and then smiled again. "Dad, I've never drank with you before. How about a couple of shots?" I don't know why, but that day my father surprisingly didn't chase me away. Instead, he sat at the table with a grim face. Father and daughter face to face, sitting at the table, yet not knowing how to start. I drank a few cups by myself until the alcohol kicked in, then turned to look at my father. "Dad, it's been ten years. I know I've embarrassed you out there." "But whether you believe it or not, I've never done anything bad." "Your daughter... your daughter really has her own difficulties." Hearing this, before the shot glass even touched his lips, my father smashed it onto the floor with a bang. "Unavoidable difficulties? I'm old, but I'm not blind." "What difficulty makes you disobey superior orders and give up being a police officer?" "What difficulty keeps you from coming home for ten years, hanging out in the underworld?" "What difficulty makes you an expert in eating, drinking, whoring, and gambling? Making you a societal reject?" My blood rushed madly out of shame. I could feel the heat all over my body, but I couldn't utter a single word. I wanted to shout to my father that I wasn't really in a gang; I was an undercover cop. But the words reached my lips and I simply couldn't open my mouth. My father's emaciated, dry hand slammed heavily on the table. His eyes flashed with tears and anticipation. "Speak! If you really have difficulties, can you not even tell me?" I remained silent, which my father took as being speechless. He flipped the table over, glaring at me with eyes full of unwillingness, questioning me loudly, every word bleeding. "Let me ask you, how did I teach you when you were little?" "Be down-to-earth in everything you do, and have a clear conscience." My father hit his chest hard, making dull thuds. "And what did you do? Do you have a clear conscience?" After saying that, my father slapped me across the face. My ears buzzed, and the grievances accumulated over ten years instantly erupted. I stood up abruptly and yelled at my father, losing control. "I, Sarah Sterling, have a clear conscience regarding everything I've done." My father looked at me, trembling all over, his eyes full of disappointment. He stumbled backward a few steps. Seeing this, I quickly tried to support him, but he avoided me. "Dad..." I called out softly, but he shook his head, as if looking at a stranger. "Don't call me Dad. You're not my daughter." "My daughter died ten years ago." Speaking of this, he looked at me, gritted his teeth, and squeezed a few words through his teeth with all his might. "You killed her." After that, he shoved me out of the house. My vision blurred as I fled toward the nearby woods. I clutched the phone in my hand and uncontrollably dialed that number. Before the other party could speak, I said, crying. "I'm begging you, I don't want to be an undercover cop anymore. I want to be a police officer in the light." "After this mission is over, will you reinstate my file?" A sigh came from the other end of the line, followed by a pause. "Sarah, you know you're the only one who has successfully infiltrated the crime syndicate..." "Just one more year. In a year, we'll launch our final strike against the syndicate..." "One year, one year, one year." My voice grew louder. "One year after another. It's been ten years, Captain. I'm really tired." After saying that, without waiting for a reply, I hung up the phone and burst into tears. Watching my father shove the cold food from the fridge into his mouth, a pang of sorrow flashed through my heart. A knock sounded on the door. My father looked at the door, then at the food on the table, and quickly dumped it into the trash can. He took a few deep breaths before walking over to open the door. "You bastard, I said you're no longer my daughter." "Don't ever come back." Just as my father finished speaking, he saw several police officers in uniform standing at the door and froze. The officers instantly stood at attention, their eyes red, and called out. "Bringing Comrade Sarah Sterling home." 4 Seeing the police, my father subconsciously frowned. "What has Sarah done now?" He looked past the officers, seemingly searching for me. "I've already kicked her out of the house. The Sterling family has no place for a societal reject like her." "You don't need to bring her back here. This isn't her home either." My father's face flushed with anger as he spoke, moving to close the door. The leading officer gently held the door and shook her head. Before she could speak, her eyes reddened. She looked at my father, her voice trembling. "Mr. Sterling, we are Sarah's colleagues." At these words, my father froze in place. He didn't make a move, his mouth wide open in disbelief. Even though it was plain English, strung together, it was hard for an old man like him to comprehend. "What did you say?" The officer opened her mouth, trying to say something, but couldn't get the words out after several attempts. The officers behind her even started sniffing. My father seemed to realize something, his body trembling. The leading officer quickly supported him, and my father tightly gripped her arm. Like grasping at a lifesaver. "What you're saying is fake. She told you to lie to me, didn't she?" "Was she sentenced to life in prison, and that's why you're willing to help her?" The officer just took a deep breath, then said word by word. "Mr. Sterling, Sarah died gloriously in the line of duty during an undercover mission to dismantle a crime syndicate." My father didn't hear a single word they said next. He just stood there, blankly repeating one sentence. "Died gloriously in the line of duty." He couldn't believe that the daughter who was sitting across from him drinking just a few days ago had now passed away. He also didn't understand why the daughter who he thought should have been struck by lightning just a few days ago, the daughter he hated and resented for ten years, suddenly transformed and was worthy of the words "died gloriously." The "clear conscience" I mentioned at the dinner table a few days ago struck his heart like lightning. He understood the true meaning behind my words. He knew I never failed his expectations and had always been striving to fulfill them. Even when cursed by everyone around me, I never changed, walking alone in the dark to release the last bit of light in my heart. Father and daughter share a deep bond. At this moment, he seemed to experience the bitterness in my heart, no longer able to control his expression. The old man, who hadn't cried more than a few times in his life, was now sobbing uncontrollably. The officer beside him supported my father, barely keeping him from collapsing onto the floor. Her voice was low as she looked at my father and advised him. "Sir, don't be sad. You need to bring her home." Hearing this, a glimmer of light flashed in my father's eyes, and he muttered. "Yes, I need to bring her home." My father followed the officer, walking unsteadily. This scene was coincidentally witnessed by Mr. Miller passing by. He leaned in and started mocking. "What, your daughter got caught committing a crime and is going to be executed?" "Hahahaha, crying like a baby. Are you going to see her for the last time?" "It seems you got your wish. God helped you take her away." My father didn't react to his words at all. He continued walking forward, his whole body numb. He had only one thought in his mind now. To see me one more time. The police officers beside him couldn't tolerate it anymore. They clenched their fists and were about to rush forward, but were stopped by the leading officer. The officer glanced at Mr. Miller and said flatly. "Considering you don't know the situation, I'll let you off this once." "Mr. Sterling's daughter, Sarah, is our colleague. If I hear you spouting nonsense again, you can spend the rest of your life locked up." Leaving a dumbfounded Mr. Miller behind, the group continued forward. My father followed the police like a walking corpse to my body, his face blank. A snow-white sheet covered my body, and my father just stood beside me, lost in thought. He tried to reach out and lift it several times, but it was as if someone was holding him back; he didn't move. I knew. He was afraid that if he lifted it, it would really be me. He hoped that as long as he didn't lift it, I would still be there. 5 After a long silence, he finally reached for the sheet with trembling hands. After all, my father was a border military veteran who had been through the wringer. As my face was revealed to the light, the crowd could no longer contain their grief and began to weep. My face was slashed with no good flesh left; my eyes were gouged out, leaving only black holes. My slightly open mouth was empty. Even after days of restoration by the mortician, my face was as terrifying as a demon's. If it were in a horror movie, it would definitely scare all the viewers to death. I thought to myself with a morbid sense of humor, yet my heart was filled with desolation. Seeing me like this, my father knelt on the ground, his eyes vacant. He wanted to stroke my face but didn't touch me, as if afraid of hurting me. He grabbed my hand, which had two broken fingers, and tears streamed down his face. "You bastard, unfilial daughter. I told you before, you're not allowed to lie to me." "Why did you try to be a hero? I... I..." The words died on my father's lips. He seemed to recall something and fell silent again. He just knelt beside me, tightly grasping my wrist. At this moment, he was like a mountain, standing quietly by my side. His tears kept flowing, his eyes empty. I wanted to wipe away his tears, but I couldn't touch him. I could only kneel on the ground beside him. The officer next to him shouted a tearful command to salute. Everyone turned toward me, stood at attention, and saluted. My father looked at me and smiled slightly. "Look, your colleagues are saluting you." Yes, my colleagues were saluting me. We should have all been standing together in the bright sunlight, but now I was lying here first. Whether they could see me or not, I returned the salute. Although I hadn't done it for ten years, I wasn't rusty at all. Because my desire to serve my country had never diminished; in fact, it had grown stronger. But then I saw my colleagues' eyes filled with hot tears, as if they were looking at something. Following their gaze, I turned around, and the scene before me is something I will never forget in this life, or the next. It was my father, standing tall with a straight back, returning the salute to my colleagues on my behalf. His back was as straight as when he was young. In the sunlight, it was as if he had become that proud, righteous soldier once again. The officer walked over to support my father, but my father just looked at her with an earnest expectation in his eyes. "Captain, my daughter... did she really do nothing wrong?" The officer nodded heavily, her voice hoarse. "Comrade Sarah Sterling excelled during her time at the academy, and her exam scores were the best in the state over the last ten years." "Whether in tactical simulations or practical exercises, she was the best in the school." "Then... was her sacrifice worth it?" My father grabbed the officer's hand tighter, his eyes even more desperate. His fingernails even dug into the officer's palm. But the officer didn't flinch. Instead, she nodded and said solemnly. "Comrade Sarah Sterling went undercover in the largest crime syndicate in the state to participate in the investigation." "During this time, she provided over a hundred pieces of vital intelligence, suffering 72 minor injuries and 18 severe injuries." "She made the ultimate sacrifice transmitting crucial evidence against the syndicate." "The syndicate was completely destroyed by our forces yesterday, and 163 criminals were arrested." "The largest crime syndicate case in the state has been officially declared closed." Amidst the silence, the officer shouted at the top of her lungs. "Your daughter, Sarah Sterling, is a true heroine, second to none."
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