Je suis née beauté, et je suis suprême

Chapitre 152

"Shen Ziyi!"

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Stay far away from him. I didn't do anything wrong, so why the sudden change of attitude?

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[Bonus Chapter: Ouyang Wuju (Part 1)]

My surname is Ouyang. From birth, I knew that this surname represented the war god of the Eastern Qing Dynasty, which blocked the invasion of other countries many times, was admired by all people, brought peace to the rear, and ensured that the people had no worries.

This surname represents power, pride, and the only bargaining chip for survival.

My mother was a military prostitute; women who came here had long since run out of assets. She wasn't pretty, much less gentle, but she was lucky enough to save my father, Ouyang Fengrui, in an accident.

Her father took her in as a way of repaying a debt of gratitude, but he gave her no affection. How could his pride allow him to give his love to such a woman?

I know life is hard, and it's too difficult to avoid being bullied. I want to prove myself and stop living in that simple shack with my mother. I don't want to hear people gossiping that I'm a chicken with a phoenix's body wherever I go.

When I was six years old, I asked to go to the battlefield with my father.

I want to be an eagle like my father's. In that war, I killed the first person in my life. He fell covered in blood, his wide eyes filled with a deep fear of death. They all praised me as a little hero, a man like my father. He was still on the mountain at the victory celebration when he first picked me up, laughing heartily. His hands were warm and strong. He was a mountain before me, and this mountain required me to climb it without stopping.

My mother was also very happy, but no one noticed the unease I felt when I woke up in the middle of the night, a unease deeper than death.

From then on, I had more opportunities to be close to my father and learn whatever he wanted to teach me from his side.

In order to avoid being sent back to that place that drives so many women crazy, I often get up before dawn to practice my skills and study until the lights go out in the military camp at night.

I don't know how the other children are, but apart from being young, I'm no different from the other soldiers.

I always thought all children were like that. But from that day on, I realized that it's different, and all children are different.

That day I was ten years old, and I happily ran to demonstrate the marksmanship I had been learning for three months to my father.

When I went in, my father was smiling, smiling very happily. I had never seen him so happy before. He was so gentle, just like the person I had imagined. When he saw me coming, he waved and said, "Wu Ju, come here."

I rushed over and enjoyed letting his large hands stroke the top of my head. He pulled me onto his lap, his strong arms supporting me like a protective shield.

He held up a few sheets of paper and said to me, "Look. This is a letter your brother just sent." His smile widened as he spoke. "Him! He's gotten me into trouble again." He laughed so hard his chest bobbed, his eyes filled with kind and forgiving affection.

He held my hand and said, "Your brother's name is Ouyang Wuhui. He's a little lion with an uncontrollable temper. When he was two years old, he wouldn't let the maids near him and even burned down his bedroom to protest the guards entering his room. He's as proud as his mother is. Let me show you something good." My father unfolded a piece of paper. The handwriting on it wasn't as neat as mine, but the crooked and messy writing caught my father's eye.

I don't know if I was jealous, but I suddenly realized that there was a brother in the world whom my father loved so much.

This proud war god of the Eastern Qing Dynasty could laugh for half a day over a piece of paper, or ponder for a long time over a few words he wrote.

"Look at him, he actually let that kid cheat him again. In the letter, he cursed the other person as if he wanted to tear him apart immediately, but at the end he said he wouldn't stoop to the other person's level. He's suffered in silence again!" The father laughed unrestrainedly, laughing like an eagle spreading its wings.

I looked at him and vowed: I must do better than Ouyang Wuhui and make that proud man smile only for me.

I spend more time practicing martial arts and studying. I strive to be better than Ouyang Wu Hui, and I want the Ouyang clan to know that there is an Ouyang Wu Ju.

Every time I saw my father happy, I knew it was Wu Hui writing to me. My father liked to show off his son, but that wasn't me. Even though my poetry and military strategy were recognized by General Wu, I never heard my father praise me once.

Sometimes I feel resentment, resentment that I am not Ouyang Wuhui, and resentment that I do not have the same pride as them.

I stood outside General Wu's tent, listening to those meaningless yet chilling words.

"I regret raising Sun Jingli, and that kid is always giving me trouble!" The father's voice was loud and clear, without a trace of dissatisfaction.

"Young Prince, you are just like you were back then."

"Like me! Stop belittling me. He was completely outmaneuvered by a guy named Shen Ziyi, and he still thinks he's so great. Am I that bad?!"

General Wu laughed and said, "Children are bound to be mischievous."

"What if he gets sold out by that guy surnamed Shen one day and he's still helping them count the money!" He laughed, not worried at all.

Because I know that only someone who wants to die would touch his precious son.

"My son is always thinking about me!" The tone was a little proud and smug.

"Yes! The young prince is your sweet little cotton-padded jacket."

What am I then? Clutching the answer sheet I was to hand to General Wu, I entered my father's tent. I sat on the ground, thinking about how my father was going to check my studies.

As I was lost in thought, a carrier pigeon flew in. As if possessed, I went over, untied the familiar letter, hid it in my sleeve, and retreated to my tent.

The father hadn't seen any letters from Ouyang Wu Hui for a month, and his face was gloomy; he didn't give anyone a kind look.

General Wu shook his head and said, "Father and son are alike."

I wonder if I did something wrong, but I don't have the courage to return the letter to my father.

After that, besides studying, I liked to copy that letter every night. The crooked handwriting was ugly, and the arrogance and pride between the lines were so childish. I couldn't understand why my father liked him so much.

At the age of twelve, my strength already surpassed that of the newly recruited soldiers. That same year, my father appointed me as an external commissioner. Although the position was low, it was better than nothing.

My mother looked at me and smiled, saying, "Good! Good!" With her status, having a son like me was enough to make her life complete.

As I accompanied my father to the battlefield more and more often, I lost my previous fear and anxiety. I am Ouyang Wuju, a son who will make my father proud.

In that battle against the bandits, my father and I fought side by side, not letting a single soldier go forward. We enjoyed the fighting, the bloodshed, and the proud fire that looked down upon the mountains.

Amidst the carnage, I finally understood that I was merely his comrade-in-arms, not his son.