Fantasy#
Many parents in the country always tilt the balance of the parent-child relationship towards the scale of "grades," but never consider the suffering their children will endure in the future. The disciplinary methods disguised as "for your own good" only trap their children in deeper predicaments. There is a bit of anger and helplessness in my heart, along with a touch of regret. Anger at my youthful timidity for not being able to resist; sighing that even if the soul is detached, one still cannot escape misunderstanding; regretting sinking day by day in the quagmire of self-doubt.
While driving to and from work, I repeatedly ponder how to reconcile with my past. Until today, a scene emerged in my mind: a family member lying on a hospital bed, their frail fingers tightly gripping the corner of my clothes, using their last strength to urge me to "work hard." At that moment, the emotions I had suppressed for so long seemed to be released. It turns out that letting go is not about relinquishing responsibility, but about understanding that expectation and reconciling with the helplessness of reality. For a moment, I didn't even know what supported me: that unbroken urging or humanity's obsession with survival?
Perhaps we are all like Fugui in "To Live," living has become the dust of the times. Parents carve their children's lives based on what they believe to be correct, while children spend their lives searching for their true selves. I just don't understand, since suffering nurtures suffering, why is understanding among kindred so difficult?