When my eyes opened again, I found myself back in elementary school. It all started when Mom was diagnosed with lung cancer. To scrape together money for her treatment, I was forced to “sell” myself for three hundred thousand dollars. But just as I was about to complete the hospital admission paperwork, I discovered the money in my card had vanished. Panicked, I was on the verge of a breakdown. I pulled out my phone to call the police, but Dad suddenly rushed over and snatched it away. “Bella,” Dad said, his voice laced with a coldness I’d never heard, “I confiscated the money. No matter how short we are, you can’t demean yourself like this.” He continued, “If you ever run into trouble inheriting the family business, won't the entire Prescott family be sold off by you?” “I’m so disappointed in you. You really couldn’t stand the test.” Finally, he spat, “From this day on, I, Arthur Prescott, disown you!” and sped away in his luxury car. The shock made me cough up blood. My body was already riddled with damage from the experimental drugs I’d taken to earn money. In that moment, I could only lie on the ground, waiting to die in despair. 1 When I opened my eyes again, Mom was calling Dad to dinner. The table was laden with delicious food, but Dad frowned, finding it hard to eat. Mom didn’t know that, at the time, Dad was already worth a few million dollars, accustomed to gourmet meals. Yet, at home, he claimed to be a mere janitor, supplementing his income by shining shoes. His monthly salary barely covered his own expenses, and because Grandma’s illness was severe, he was supposedly tens of thousands in debt each month. Growing up, I never really spent much of his money. Whether it was diapers and formula when I was little, or stationery and clothes as I got older. Ask, and he had no money. Ask, and he'd play the pauper. Mom sympathized with him, never asked him for a dime, and often worked three jobs a day just to help ease his burden. She even told me to listen to Dad. “Your father works so hard. Even if he doesn’t earn much, it’s commendable that he’s willing to work. Many people would have given up in his situation, let alone provide for his mother.” Oh, my love-struck mom. I didn't argue, just nodded silently. Then I wrote about Dad in my essay, titled "My Janitor Dad." I wrote that being a janitor was a noble profession. Though many might see it as insignificant, it genuinely transformed our environment, making it clean and comfortable. My dad was also a great father. Though many might see his salary as insignificant, this job truly allowed him to fulfill his self-worth and was a part of society’s backbone. My teacher was astonished, praising my writing as superior to ninety-nine percent of elementary school students. She then submitted my work to the city competition. It won first place without a doubt and was selected for publication in a magazine. My teacher was overjoyed, stating that she would definitely interview my dad at the upcoming parent-teacher conference. I asked her if my dad would be happy. She smiled and patted my head, “Of course, he’ll be so proud to have a daughter like you.” Hearing that, I smiled contentedly. Dad loves pretending to be a janitor, right? Then I'll broadcast it far and wide, letting everyone know he’s a janitor. 2 Elementary school was a breeze for me. My only concern was when I could finally eat the lunch Mom packed. I rested my head on my desk, doodling circles in my textbook, waiting for the last bell to ring. Sarah, my deskmate, was also hungry. I watched as she dipped her head, swiftly pulling a chocolate bar from under her desk and popping it into her mouth. I could almost smell the distinct sweet scent of chocolate, my gaze involuntarily drawn to it. Sensing my attention, Sarah smirked, a triumphant gleam in her eyes. “Never had one, have you? My dad bought it for me, and we have tons more at home!” “Want a piece? Kneel and lick my shoes, and I’ll give you some.” I shook my head, “That stuff is disgusting.” I’d once begged Dad for chocolate, only to be scolded. Later, when Mom fell ill, I couldn’t bear to buy any myself. Not until I got the money from the drug trial. Even with my stomach already incredibly fragile, I couldn’t resist buying one bar. I planned to savor it, but once I started, I devoured it greedily. The silky, rich taste made me feel like I was going to swallow my own tongue. Yet, less than three seconds later, I was violently sick, my stomach cramping so badly I rolled on the floor. Now, the thought of chocolate immediately brought a sharp, twisting pain to my abdomen. Sarah rolled her eyes and snorted, “Such a drama queen!” That expression, it was so similar to that woman’s. And that woman, like Sarah, lived a pampered life, carrying expensive handbags, with crimson nails and lipstick, her skin glowing with a smooth radiance. When I died on the cold hospital floor, my soul floated in the air. I saw Dad pull up in his luxury car at the beauty salon. Sarah and her mother emerged, all smiles, and slipped into the back seat of the lavish vehicle. Only then did I realize that Sarah’s mother was the woman Dad had on the side. While Mom and I ate watery porridge and instant noodles to save money, Sarah and her mom were tired of Japanese, French, and Korean fine dining. While Mom and I avoided the hospital for minor injuries to save money, Sarah’s dog had a five-hundred-dollar grooming session. While I was scrambling for living expenses and medical bills, Sarah was planning a round-the-world trip. There was too much… more than I could even recount. Finally, the dismissal bell rang. I clutched my lunchbox and went to the garden outside to savor the taste of my mother’s love. After school that afternoon. Mom was bustling around the kitchen alone, the floor covered with all sorts of ingredients. Turns out Dad’s investors were coming for dinner. They specifically asked for home-cooked food. Dad, not wanting to waste money, simply bought the ingredients and had Mom cook at home. 3 “These are big shots. If they’re happy, even a small investment from them could make me rich.” Dad kept emphasizing. Then he sent me back to my room to do homework, telling me not to bother them. I nodded innocently and quietly worked on my assignments. Half an hour later, the aroma of food wafted from the kitchen. My stomach rumbled; my lunch had long since digested, and it was time for dinner. But I waited for hours until Mom came in, clutching two large steamed buns. “You must be starving. Here, have one.” I frowned, glancing outside. Dad and the investors were happily eating. “Mom, I want to eat too.” Mom sighed, “Be good. Your dad is doing something important. Maybe if they’re pleased and invest in him, he won’t have to work so hard as a janitor anymore.” I swear, my mom was such a naive airhead. She didn't know, or chose not to believe, that even if my dad really did strike it rich, the first thing he’d think of wouldn't be giving us a good life. Because at that point, Dad already had a fair bit of money. After this partnership succeeded, he’d truly skyrocket, transforming from an unknown small business owner into a CEO worth hundreds of millions. Yet, he would persistently pretend to be poor in front of Mom and me, constantly using the excuse of "testing" us to exploit us both. In the end, Mom and I wouldn’t get a single dime from him! I took a bite of the bun. The usually sweet bread now tasted bland and dry compared to the rich aroma of all the meat dishes. I put down the bun, and ignoring Mom’s protests, rushed straight to the dining table. “Dad, I want to eat too!” I raised my voice, yelling loudly. Everyone froze and looked at me. Dad frowned, raising a hand to send me back to my room, “Stop messing around, you’ll get food later.” I refused to go, instead putting on a drooling expression. Wiping my mouth with my hand, I then used a child’s exaggerated, booming voice: “I can put on a show for you! I can recite ancient poems!” With that, I swayed my head back and forth. “The river tide connects with the sea’s expanse, the moon on the ocean rises with the tide. Its shimmering waves travel a thousand miles, where can the spring river be without moonlight…” I recited it all in one breath, then smiled ingratiatingly, pointing at the ribs in front of me. “Can I eat now?” The investors seemed amused. “Of course, little greedy cat.” Dad chuckled, “Why don’t you thank Mr. Li?” I picked up a small bowl, scooped a few pieces, and then burst into tears. “Thank you, Mr. Li, thank you, Mr. Li!” “If you hadn’t come, Mom and I wouldn’t get to eat such delicious meat.” 4 Everyone’s expressions varied, the atmosphere becoming horribly awkward. Mr. Li’s expression instantly grew serious. “You mean you usually can’t afford meat?” Dad snapped out of his shock, frantically yelling at me to go back inside, “What nonsense are you spouting? Get back to your room!” But I refused. I clutched my small bowl, sobbing uncontrollably. “That’s right, Mr. Li, my family is super, super poor.” “Dad is a janitor, and sometimes he even shines shoes for others. Even with all that, the money he earns is never enough for himself. Mom has to work three jobs a day to help him pay off debts, and I have to save every penny.” As I spoke, I looked down. Following my gaze, my socks had two holes, perfectly revealing my big toes. Everyone’s expressions were complex, especially Mr. Li’s. After a moment, he finally understood. “Arthur Prescott, are you trying to con us?” “Didn’t you make money last time? Did you gamble it away or lose it?” At his words, the other two also looked alert. Dad panicked, quickly putting on a smile and explaining. “No, no, the kid’s just making things up!” “Making things up, you say?” Mr. Li pointed at my socks. “Those socks haven’t been torn for just a day or two, have they?” “You talk a good game about your projects, but I think we should put this collaboration on hold. Let’s talk another time.” As they spoke, they started to stand up. Dad desperately tried to dissuade them. “Kids go through socks fast!” Me: “Yes, sir, I go through a pair of socks every year!” “Kids just love to lie!” I quickly added: “Sir, my essay about Dad even won an award, and last time I got perfect scores in English, Math, and Science!” The others packed their things with increasing speed, slamming the door shut after just a few moments. Dad chased after them, almost getting his nose squashed by the door. Ignoring the pain, he stumbled after them, trying to explain. But it was no use. Mr. Li was convinced Dad was truly destitute and was desperately trying to trick them into being his financial saviors, so he naturally gave him no quarter. Dad’s hard work for half a year was ruined. He came home with a face as dark as thunderclouds. Immediately, he unleashed his fury on Mom: “Look at your well-raised daughter! How dare she publicly call me a janitor?” Mom looked bewildered. “But you are one, aren’t you?” Dad choked, as if only then realizing that being a janitor was a role he’d assigned himself. He himself was already disgusted by it. 5 Mom turned to look at me; I was already seated at the table, digging in heartily. Mom’s cooking really was exceptionally good! My stomach was healthy now, my body strong, and my appetite excellent. Seeing me eat so ravenously, Mom, who was about to scold me, suddenly got a little misty-eyed. “I think… Bella has a point too.” Dad furrowed his brow. “What are you talking about?” Mom took a deep breath. “I think Bella isn’t wrong. Bella is only 11, she’s a child. What’s wrong with her wanting to eat something nice?” “Ever since I married you, I’ve always felt such dread, such scarcity. Every day I’ve been rushing around to make ends meet, but Arthur, how can you feast and indulge yourself without a single thought for your daughter?” Dad froze, his expression somewhat awkward. “Me, what are you saying? I invited them to dinner, wasn’t it for the future?” “If I make it big, won't I be able to eat whatever I want? Why would I act like a starving ghost and eat now?” “Now look! It’s all because of her, offending my investors. After this meal, you can starve!” Mom’s brows furrowed, she seemed conflicted. As if she was wavering. Dad turned, his face menacing, and scolded me. “Because of your greed, I missed a chance to get rich!” I put down the big chicken leg. Pouting, on the verge of tears: “I’m, I’m sorry, Dad.” I couldn’t help but let out a burp. “I was too hungry. This is my fault, I couldn’t control my stomach.” “But Dad, I have good news for you. I got first place in my entire grade! Can you come to my parent-teacher conference tomorrow? Our teacher specifically asked, and she’ll praise you in front of everyone!” Dad looked displeased, waving his hand to refuse immediately. “You made me lose so much face. I’m not going.” He turned and sat on the sofa, playing on his phone. A moment later, he saw something and called my name. “Bella, what time does that parent-teacher conference start?”
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