I might be a little strong

Chapter 198

Letting the referee raise his arms to declare victory, Mao Jiajun watched Zhang Yu being carried away by the doctor, and he felt quite complicated in his heart. At least, he did not feel the thrill of winning.

What about the prejudice between people, even if the winner is determined?

If you win, he won't like you, he will only hate you even more.

Ugh……

Feeling a little depressed, he continued to play today's three games. Fortunately, he didn't encounter a particularly strong enemy. After winning three games, Mao Jiajun left the Wumeng branch.

Before he knew it, he had already reached the Weiguo Martial Arts Hall.

The door was not opened.

Looking at the closed door of the martial arts hall, Mao Jiajun scratched his head, and understood that the curator should continue to fight. If he wants to advance, he needs seven wins. If he has enough physical strength, the curator will continue to fight.

I still want to announce the good news to the curator...

He found the sense of energy yesterday and gained internal strength, but because of Lao Tang's dead depression and the whole day, he only cheered up to participate in the audition today, so he didn't have time to tell the curator that he was able to practice.

Otherwise, come back tomorrow...

Walking aimlessly on the streets of Jiangcheng, Mao Jiajun has just experienced life and death. In fact, Mao Jiajun has not slowed down. Since his birth, no one has ever treated him as well as Old Tang.

And this old Tang is dead.

Staying in a park, Mao Jiajun looked up at the gray sky. Snowflakes were falling from the sky. He stretched out his hand in a daze to catch the snowflakes, but they melted after a while.

Snow?
That's right, it's snowing, and it's going to be... New Year's Eve.

The schedule of the Spring Festival Martial Arts Conference is to enter the final 64 knockout rounds on the night of the Spring Festival, and stage a wonderful martial arts showdown for the people of the whole country.

Today is January 1, and there are still 16 days before the Chinese New Year.

new year...

Mao Jiajun gradually fell silent. He looked at the residential area not far away, which was the seventh district. He couldn't help but sighed quietly, straightened his collar, and went to the nearby supermarket to buy some fruits.

Will be shot out again...

Thinking, Mao Jiajun, who bought the fruit, had already entered the residential area and came to a door. After thinking for a few seconds, he stretched out his hand hesitantly, and knocked lightly on the door twice.

After waiting for a long time, no one opened the door, so Mao Jiajun knocked a little harder twice.

Probably, if you don't pay attention, you still won't hear that kind of...

click.

The door rang, and the lock was opened. A down-and-out, sloppy man opened the door. From the door came the smell of alcohol and sourness, as if a man who had lost his meaning, the first time he saw Mao Jiajun Time, the expression began to be ferocious.

"roll!"

With a low growl, the man was about to close the door.

However, Mao Jiajun stretched out his hand to hold the door. He looked at the haggard man and called out with some distress: "Dad..."

"Don't call me dad! You bastard! Get out!"

His body, which had been hollowed out by years of alcoholism, could not make him close the door at all, so he began to punch and kick Mao Jiajun with all his might.

Even though he already has internal strength now, being hit like this still feels a lot of pain.

Mao Jiajun gritted his teeth and endured this man's beating, and said what he wanted to say this time: "Dad, it's the Chinese New Year."

The man froze for a moment, then became even more frantic. He rushed back to the room, took out the kitchen knife, and with angry eyes, he slashed at Mao Jiajun's head with all his strength. Mao Jiajun grabbed the knife with sadness in his eyes.

Blood water, slipping from the arm...

When the man saw the blood, his pupils shrank sharply. He backed away blankly, staggered and fell to the ground, and then cried out in grief. Mao Jiajun pulled out the kitchen knife embedded in the palm of his hand for a centimeter, and gently put it on the ground. fruit.

"Since you don't like it, I'll go."

"Dad, you can eat a little bit of fruit, it will be healthier."

"Well, I finally realized that Qi Sen can practice martial arts recently. I, I signed up for the Spring Festival Martial Arts Conference. If, if I can make it to the knockout round, you can see me on TV."

"I……"

"You take care."

Enduring tears, Mao Jiajun left his father's residence.

And the man cried for a long time before he stopped, staring blankly at the fruit left by Mao Jiajun and the bloody kitchen knife, his face became even sadder, but he couldn't even cry...

……

At the corner of the corridor, Mao Jiajun leaned against the wall, dazed.

He didn't hate his father, although they were not related by blood.

But he knew that in the past 12 years of getting along, that man who had no ability was really working hard. When the temperature was 40 degrees in summer on the construction site, he never took a break, just to get three times the high temperature subsidy.

He worked hard to save money and would buy her a bag that he had read for a long time.

He would use the money he secretly saved to buy toys for his son and take him to the playground, but that woman only knew how to play cards and spend money, but he never complained.

Mao Jiajun once thought that life would continue like this, although it was unfair.

But something even more unfair happened. The woman disappeared, quietly.

That day, my father panicked, he called the police, and went crazy to find her. Half a month later, he came back from the south. He drank for three days and three nights, and was so drunk that he passed out.

After his father woke up, he took him to the hospital.

The results of the paternity test came out, and they... are not father and son.

The hysterical man who had been silent broke out completely. He was beaten badly that day and was sent directly to the ward, while his father was sent to the detention center.

After he was discharged from the hospital, he went home again, but he was beaten every time.

He later heard that his father wanted to commit suicide several times, but was saved. Since then, his father has been living in a muddle, like a walking corpse.

And he, funded by the welfare agency, continued to attend school.

He has to finish the nine-year compulsory education, but he is not smart at all. How can he study well in this environment?

Can a child who doesn't even have parents not be bullied?
Weak, bullying...

At that time, the only thing that supported his survival was the martial arts dream. There was a bookstore in the alley behind the school. The bookstore was very old, not only the decoration, but also the books and the owner.

The old man wearing glasses seems to be dozing off all the time, and he doesn't mind having a child who reads books every day.

So, he read a lot of books there.

In the book, he saw a river and lake, where love and hatred are happy, some people draw their swords to help when encountering injustice, some use swords to fight against injustice in the world, and some...

(End of this chapter)