The father dragged him to the living room in front of his brother and visiting relatives, forcing him to kneel, and searched through his collar and pockets.
"Your face is already disgraceful enough, is your heart just as dirty?"
This sentence was like a knife, repeatedly piercing through Che Yongyi's soul.
Eventually, the doll was found in the sofa crevice, but no one apologized to him.
His mother just pulled him back to the utility room with red-rimmed eyes and whispered, "Can't you... cause less trouble?"
It turns out being ugly means being bad, and even if you haven't done anything wrong, it doesn't matter.
As long as you're ugly, you're supposed to bear all kinds of malice.
That day, Che Yongyi cried for a long time in the utility room. In the dim room, his fingernails dug deeply into his own flesh.
He really wanted to tear off this face.
"If I had a pretty face... they would surely love me, right?"
