Có thể là hình ảnh về 3 người và trẻ em

Bored with the scene of coming home only to see his wife: ; I gave birth to all my daughters, tried to get a son forever, the more I looked at him, the more I saw that he was not like me, I left my children to follow the servant; 1 week

Bored of the scene when I came home only to see my wife giving birth to a daughter, I kept blaming the heavens. My father has 4 brothers, I am the head of the family, but the first three of my children are all girls. The whole village whispered:

– “That house must be a heavy karma, there is no son to follow…”

My wife was miserable because of her words. By the fourth time, she gritted her teeth and kept them even though the doctor said her health was weak. When I found out that it was my son, I was happy to shed tears. But the older he got, the weirder he became. His skin was white, his eyes were narrowed, and his forehead was swollen. While I was dark, my eyes were deep, my face was broken…

I began to doubt.

When I was upset, I sarcastically scolded my wife,
“Are you sure she’s my child?”

My wife was in tears. My eldest daughter, 13, kept looking at me silently with sad eyes.

One day, I secretly ran away from home to follow my lover – a hairdresser who was 10 years younger than me. She soothed, saying,
“I gave you two sons, not like the other woman…”

I was blind. He didn’t bother to call back, no matter how his wife and children lived and died. For 1 week, I stayed at the hostel with my mistress, dreaming of a new family “just like me”.

Until that afternoon—I remember it was raining—I went home with the definitive intention of divorcing my wife.

As soon as he opened the door, he saw the girls sitting quietly, their eyes were red. The eldest daughter walked over, pointed to the room, and coldly said exactly one sentence:

– “Daddy come in and look at me one last time…”

I was dumbfounded.

I rushed inside. My wife was lying there, white as a piece of paper, her hands still holding the unfinished letter. The son was being carried to a neighbor’s house. She takes sleeping pills – the one I used to buy for my lover…

I screamed, shook my wife up, and called for help. But it was too late.

The last letter is only a few lines:

“I’m sorry. I kept my son because I thought he would love me more. But when I left, I knew I had lost. If there is a next life, I still want to be the mother of my children, even if I can’t be a wife anymore.”

I sat on the floor with my head crossed, listening to my daughter’s cry echoing like a knife through my heart. As for the mistress, after learning that I had a wife who died for me, she panicked and cut off contact and ran away in the night.