My mom is the deeply devoted second female lead in a romance novel. Even after being forced into a political marriage with my dad, she still chases after the male lead every day. The male lead and his punk younger brother mock her: "A big simp gave birth to a little simp." My mom gets alert: "What do you mean?" The punk smirks: "Your daughter, trying to chase me, saved the fifty thousand dollars allowance you gave her to recharge my game account. She was so hungry at noon she only ate a hot dog bun." "She also said she wants to be like you—even if she's forced to marry someone else, she'll never forget me! She'll even steal her husband's secret stash to support me!" My mom: "!" Chasing men is paused; beating up the punk is now in session. Even the male lead got slapped twice when he tried to intervene. Later, my mom stopped chasing the male lead, afraid she'd lead me astray. But she couldn't help calling him every night at 2 or 3 AM: "Are you asleep yet?" "Why isn't that punk brother of yours dead yet?" "I can't sleep until he's dead." Male Lead: "?" 1 Since I was born, the number of times I've seen my mom can be counted on one hand. Because she is the deeply devoted second female lead in a book. Destined to spend her life chasing after the male lead. So. Right after giving birth to me, as soon as she could walk, she took a taxi overnight to find the male lead. Driving my dad crazy. A perfectly good CEO of a listed company, waking up early and staying up late every day to feed me and change my diapers. He even carried me on his back during meetings. Halfway through a meeting. I wailed. Dad stopped helplessly, skillfully took out a bottle to feed me. Stunning his subordinates. Are stay-at-home dads this competitive now? Not wanting to be outdone, they all carried their babies to work the next day. For a while, the conference room was filled with crying and feeding sounds. Dad knew his subordinates misunderstood. But he was too embarrassed to explain. Explain what? Say his wife is busy chasing another man and has no time to take care of the kid? How humiliating. But soon, this juicy gossip from a wealthy family spread like wildfire. Everyone started pitying this man with dark circles under his eyes, eighty alarms set on his phone, and a desk piled with parenting books. Wife doesn't love him, kid loves to cry. Tsk tsk tsk. Pitiful. But Dad had no time for self-pity. Reviewing documents while coaxing me to sleep, busy as a bee. 2 When I started kindergarten. Dad finally relaxed a bit. At least he could focus on work during the day. But I gradually revealed the simp genes inherited from my mom. Coming home from school every day crying to Dad: "Why does Timmy like the class beauty and not me?" "I even did a backflip for him." "I did his homework, got him water, bought him snacks, almost went to the bathroom for him! He still doesn't like me! He only knows how to chase the class beauty!" "Dad, can you arrange an arranged marriage for us?" "Forget it, I'm afraid like you, even after having a kid, he won't look at me once." "Boohoo, what if the person I like doesn't like me? I'm so pitiful, I'm like a clown." Dad: "..." Even someone looking for trouble couldn't say such things. Although it poked Dad's sore spot. He still patiently explained to me: "Liking someone is everyone's right." "You can't force love." "Learn to respect others' choices." "Loving yourself is the most important thing." I pretended to understand, nodding obediently. The next day, I switched to simping for someone else. I feel terrible if I don't simp for a day. And I see Dad educating me so logically. Actually, he is a huge simp too. On the surface, he pretends not to care that Mom doesn't love him. In reality, he hides under the covers every night and cries secretly. Headphones looping "She Doesn't Love Me." Phone and computer albums full of Mom's photos. The safe is full of love letters he dare not send. From kindergarten to now, over 3000 letters. Mom got tired of chasing the male lead and finally came home once. Dad skipped work. Sped home at 110 mph to cook for Mom. Usually, he sends WeChat messages to greet her: "Today's temperature dropped 1 degree compared to yesterday, remember to wear an extra layer." "Coming home for dinner today, wifey?" "Tired of chasing Jason, right? Why not invite him home for dinner together." "..." "Actually, I can sleep in the guest room, you two can share a bed." So humble. Mom never replied to a single message. Dad takes it in stride: "I checked, your mom's zodiac sign just hates replying to messages." Me: "..." When it comes to simping. Dad is still superior. 3 You ask how I was born. Of course, it was an accident within an accident. Mom had a breakdown chasing the guy, couldn't take it anymore, and planned to drug the male lead, Jason. But she is an honest woman, never done anything so rebellious. When Jason was about to drink. Her conscience kicked in, she snatched it back and gulped it down herself. After drinking, she pushed Jason out, locked the door, and sent Dad the address. In the end, Dad benefited. Dad didn't know Mom took drugs, thought her initiative was because heaven rewards the faithful. His silent love was finally seen by her. She finally changed her mind and was willing to accept him. Result? Early the next morning. Mom pulled up her skirt and denied everything, leaving Dad curled in the corner crying. After crying, continued WeChatting Mom: "Coming home for dinner, wifey?" Later, when he learned Mom was pregnant. Dad cried again. Of course, tears of joy. He thought his suffering was over. After all, a child is the bond of a couple. Even if she doesn't love him, with a child, would Mom still have the heart to run out every day? Facts proved Mom is a ruthless woman. Eight months pregnant, still chasing the male lead with a brisk stride. Scared Dad into assigning ten bodyguards to her. Carrying her every day to see Jason. Jason, afraid the female lead would misunderstand, shut Mom out. Mom is also stubborn. Squatting at his door, refusing to leave. Even when it rained. Said Jason was soft-hearted. Don't know if Jason was soft-hearted. But it broke Dad's heart. Secretly called Jason, saying Mom was pregnant and couldn't be in the rain and wind, asking if he could let her sit inside. Jason refused: "What does your wife's pregnancy have to do with me?" Dad gritted his teeth: "I'll give you ten percentage points on the next project." Jason: "Deal!" So Mom, with her big belly, followed by ten bodyguards carrying a pile of clothes, shoes, and food bought for Jason, marched into the male lead's house. The female lead is also generous. Seeing Mom pitiful like this, poured her hot water. Mom sniffled: "Actually, I'm not here to break you up, I'm here to join you." "Can you not chase me away? I can cook for you two." "You sleep on the bed, I can sleep under the bed." "Just let me see Jason every day..." Then she looked at Jason tearfully: "Luckily the person not being loved is me. If it were you, so painful, how much my heart would ache." This earth-shattering simp speech shocked even the female lead: "If I dared say this, my best friend would have a UFC fight with me." 4 And I, inherited all the genetic dregs of my parents. Famous for simping at school. Teachers called Dad every few days: "Your child bought everything in the school store today, said it was for the school hunk." "Can you discuss with her, leave me a cup of instant noodles? I haven't eaten all day." Dad was worried. Couldn't scold, couldn't beat. Didn't dare tell his wife, could only reduce my allowance. With no money, I secretly called Mom. She actually didn't completely ignore me. Sent me living expenses every day, messaged about my well-being: "How tall have you grown?" "What did you get on this exam?" "Send me the report card." "Wow, first in class, awesome! Worthy of my daughter." But never mentioned what she was doing. Asked her, she said working. But actually, I knew all about her heroic simp deeds. I didn't say anything either. She simps hers, I simp mine. Mother and daughter on the same path, will eventually simp our way to our own love. Result? Simping collapsed midway. That night. I was sending a voice message to the school bully in a husky voice, asking what he was doing, if he wanted to come to my house, I'd do a backflip for him. The door was kicked open. Mom, whom I hadn't seen for three months, appeared in front of me, holding a half-dead punk with yellow hair, eyes burning with rage: "Ava! Lane!" Scared, I jumped up, skillfully tucking the phone into my waistband: "Mom, Mom, listen to my explanation, the homeroom teacher always targets me, it's not my fault." "There are so many sleeping in class, dating early, even cooking in the back row, and she doesn't catch them? She insists on catching me to arrange a ghost marriage for the principal? This is bullying..." Mom: "..." "What are you doing for the principal?! Ah forget it, marry if you want, but marry someone better! But not this one! Look who this is!" She threw the yellow-haired punk on the ground. The punk was caught off guard and fell flat on his face. Looking up, our eyes met. In the awkwardness, he suddenly flipped over smoothly like a loach, did ten push-ups with his hands on the ground "heave-ho heave-ho." Stopped panting, thinking he saved face, lay on his side on the ground, looking up at us smugly. Mom: "..." Me, starry-eyed: "Wow!" Mom's fist hardened, raising her foot to kick him. I was shocked, rushing to stop her: "Mom, how can you treat my crush like this!" Mom gritted her teeth: "Ava Lane! Are you blind? Where is this dead Yellow Hair worthy of being a crush?" The boy reacted instantly to "Yellow Hair," jumping up: "I'm not Yellow Hair! I wanted to dye it green! That damn black shop used expired cheap dye, and it faded to yellow after two washes! Now I can't wash it out! How can you blame me! Why call me dead Yellow Hair!" Mom: "...What's the difference!" The boy stiffened his neck: "Of course there's a difference! Green is so vibrant and good-looking! So unique!" "I didn't want to be yellow hair either, like weeds..." Talking and talking, it seemed to poke his sore spot, reminding him of sad past events, voice choking: "Blame that black shop, making me laughed at by classmates for days boohoo..." I don't care about yellow hair or green hair. I am a superficial face-judger. If you are good-looking, my heart moves, I can simp. Yellow Hair Caleb is the most handsome guy I picked from the whole school. High nose bridge, long eyelashes, deep eye sockets, eyes drooping like a puppy. Although he has some small flaws, like a bad temper, doing nothing all day, talking back to teachers in class, bossing people around during breaks. Enjoying all offerings from me, the simp, yet still ignoring me. But so what. Seeing his beautiful face, I can forgive everything. Not to mention crying like a pear blossom bathed in rain now. Even more directly handsome. Beautiful to tears, heartbreaking for me. I squatted down, couldn't help wanting to touch his face. Caleb's dog-like temper started acting up again. He glared at me: "Don't touch me!" Mom's temper exploded: "Hey, not letting people touch now? The money my daughter spent on you could book a dozen male models at a club, and you won't even let her touch?" "Touch him, touch him! Daughter, touch him hard! Rub him bald!" But my heart skipped a beat. Looks like my simping for Caleb at school is completely exposed. Look, it drove Mom crazy. I comforted her: "It's okay Mom, I did it voluntarily..." Mom glared at me: "Shut up!" Then quickly turned her head: "Today, either return the money, or let my daughter touch enough!" Caleb refused: "Why should..." But seeing Mom's fierce eyes, wanting to kill him for protecting her calf. Caleb instantly chickened out. But almost all the money I gave him went into games, and his own allowance was strictly controlled by his brother because he caused trouble at school every day, leaving him only twenty bucks for cafeteria food. He was sure if he took out these twenty bucks, Ava Lane's mom might kick his head like a ball. So he weighed it for a long time, finally gritted his teeth, steeled his heart, and lowered his head to me: "Touch!" I was flattered. Actually, I wanted to touch his fluffy dog-like hair for a long time. But hair is Caleb's life. Even his closest brothers would get beaten up if they touched it. Didn't expect to get it so easily as a simp. Looks like simps have spring too. Tears in my eyes, I raised my hand and gently placed it on his head. Just touched his hair, the boy frowned and "tsked." Mom, waiting on the side: "Hmm? Dare to bare teeth!" Then quickly reached out and slapped his face precisely. Slap. Smoothed Caleb's dog hair completely. Didn't dare make a sound again. Let me rub and rub. I was touching happily here. Mom watching on the side felt worse and worse. Fifty thousand given to this brat without heartache, yet touching him once is a luxury, let alone his usual attitude towards Ava. Treating her directly as an ATM on call. And Ava herself acted like she had no pursuit or self-esteem, just touching his head, happy like this. Won't she be manipulated and bullied at will in the future? No. Can't go on like this. It must be because I usually focused almost entirely on Jason, neglecting my daughter's education. Spending too little time with my daughter caused this situation. Not too late now, can still change. As for Dad, that useless guy. CEO my ass, can't even educate a child well. Mom sneered, still have to do it myself.
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