My Alleged Husband-Chapter 947 - 840: Shirk Responsibility
Old Master Zhang couldn’t understand why his son accused him of pushing all responsibilities onto her. Was he really that kind of person? He had never thought of treating her in such a way. It was his son’s mistakes that he found unbearable time and time again. He had thought countless times about what he could do to reduce his son’s hostility and bias toward him. Yet, even now, he realized deep down that his son had never truly wanted to return to this family. Every time he came back home, perhaps it was only to fulfill a faint glimmer of hope in his heart—maybe all he ever truly cared about was his so-called freedom!
Is freedom really that important? For freedom, could one abandon their life goals again and again? For freedom, could one repeatedly put their family in harm’s way, treating loved ones like toys to be picked up and discarded at will? For freedom, could one make everything so unbearably difficult?
He truly didn’t understand what freedom was, or why so many people would forsake everything they had just for it. The things one already possessed might be far more precious than freedom. If freedom were lost, one could live differently, but if one’s family were lost—then how would they go on? No one had ever stopped to contemplate the ultimate outcome of such choices. Pain after pain was thrust upon others, yet no one paused to consider what kind of choices they should make and what pain and tribulations those choices brought to their loved ones. Why was everyone so selfish and self-centered? It had even made him a numb and unfeeling person.
"I truly can’t understand why you say I’m pushing all the responsibilities onto you. Have you ever stopped to consider how much your actions have broken my heart? What I want isn’t much. You are my son—your happiness and joy are what make me, as a father, so content and joyful. Do you even know that? But you have never understood my sincerity. You always impose your own ideas onto me. You believe every decision you make is right—what about me? Are everything I’ve done and all my efforts for your sake simply wrong? Is every sacrifice I’ve made for your benefit too worthless for you to even glance at?
If deep down you truly still regard me as your father, then I ask you to seriously consider: what does it all mean? Everything you’ve done, what position has it put me in? What about every other family member—what are they to you? No one owes you anything, yet every single person has endured and forgiven the mistakes you’ve made!
Not once have you acknowledged your own mistakes. Every action you take, you believe to be correct—but have you ever truly considered whether what you’ve done is right or wrong? Have you thought about the gravity and unforgivability of the mistakes you’ve made time and time again?
Sometimes I can’t understand your way of thinking. I can hardly believe you’re my child. How could my child possibly behave like this? Why would you treat me, your father, in such a way? Am I really the one in the wrong? Or in your eyes, do you see all of this as completely trivial?
No matter when or where, I always hope that when you’re about to act, you take some time to consider whether your actions will sadden your family. No matter what, you are my child. No matter what you do, you will always be my child. As your father, it is my responsibility to guide you and bear your burdens. Time and again, I’ve let you make mistakes, time and again, I’ve failed to stand by your side when you needed me most, and this alone proves my failure as a father. Although back then I cruelly shut you out—I thought about it later—but so many years have passed. Why do you still hold on to it so tightly, clinging with all your might? Do you think holding onto every little thing like this will bring you happiness and joy? Do you truly think it will?
Sometimes, I silently reflect to myself: if one day I, as your father, were to leave you forever, to disappear from this world—would you, as a son, feel any sorrow for my absence? I wish so much to see you happy and joyful. But each time I watch you hurt your family with your actions, do you have any idea how excruciatingly painful it is for me, as a father and head of this household? Is this what a family is meant to do—to turn on each other?"
"Do you think it’s me who wants us to turn on each other? Every single thing I’ve done, what were my true intentions? Deep down, don’t you know? You are my father. Have you ever truly felt the pain buried deep within my heart? I also want my family to be happy and joyful. But everything I do seems unable to bring you happiness. You all think that everything I do is wrong. If that’s how it is, then why do you keep choosing, time and again, to place all the joy and pain squarely on your own shoulders? Shouldn’t you be living happily and joyfully too? Why do you live with such constant burden—what is all of it for, if not hoping for us to have a happy and joyful family? Yet in doing so, every single thing I’ve done breaks your heart. And how, then, can you find happiness? I don’t know whether my return to this family is right or wrong. I also wish I could stay here and live happily, peacefully within this home. But if you all cannot be happy, if you cannot find joy, then my original intention in returning to this house no longer has meaning!
Me coming back to this home—everything I do here is wrong. I’ve wounded everyone’s hearts. I don’t understand what meaning there is in what I’ve done. Everything I’ve wanted, time and time again, has only ended up hurting all of you. But as for me—despite finding joy during these days—I constantly endure your interrogation, as if you’re interrogating a criminal. Yet I remain happy and satisfied. This kind of life is something I’ve never experienced in all these years. Do you know how much I long for this kind of life to last forever? Even if I’m scolded every day, I can still smile happily, still feel contented and joyful, can’t I?"
