Chapter 3

"But not right now. Put it on tonight instead, so you don't heal too quickly and forget the lesson. For now, go clean the kitchen first," Mom added.

I had no choice but to ignore the stinging pain in my palms and wash the dishes with cold water in the dead of winter.

Because my parents would say, "Back in our day, things were never this convenient. It was totally normal to do house chores with freezing cold water in the dead of winter.

"If we could do it, why can't you? We're doing this to build your endurance and perseverance. With that kind of grit, you'll succeed at anything you do in the future."

Their parenting philosophy made it hard for me to play with kids in my own social circle. While my peers were traveling the world with their families, I was sent off to the countryside to herd cattle by my parents.

Gradually, I had almost no friends left.

I had tried to resist, but the floating comments told me my parents were heartbroken over making this decision, and that they had cried all night.

At times like this, no matter how much I tried to express my unwillingness, it always seemed like I was just being immature and ungrateful.

I was being crushed under the weight of their so-called for my own good. I didn't know what more I had to do to earn my parents' approval.

In fact, I was beginning to wonder whether the comments were really telling the truth.

Two years later, to toughen me up, when I started elementary school, my parents sent me away to study in a remote mountain village.

"Back in the day, your father and I both went to school in the mountains. We walked out of there and, through our own hard work, built everything we have now from nothing. As our child, you should, of course, experience the life we lived back then as well."

They gave me only 800 dollars in living expenses—for the entire year, and 500 dollars of that was tuition fees.

I found myself in an unfamiliar place where I knew no one, and soon ended up vomiting and having diarrhea from eating something that didn't agree with me.

Thinking I was going to die, I called my parents, crying.

They paused for a moment, then quickly said, "How did you get so soft? You've only been there a few days, and you already can't handle it. Malcolm, we've spoiled you too much—that's why you can't endure even a little hardship.

"You know what? Don't come home this year. Stay in the village and toughen yourself up some more. Don't let us down."

With that, they hung up.

I hugged my burning-hot body tightly, silently praying that if I could just sleep, the fever would break by the time I woke up.

Through the blur, I caught sight of a few floating comments.

"Oh dear, Malcolm looks like he's running a fever. Too bad his parents don't know what's really going on."

"Quick, find a teacher to get some fever medicine, or at least wipe yourself down with a wet towel. If the fever gets bad enough to cause brain damage, your parents will be wracked with guilt!"

"My heart aches for Malcolm. But I saw how his parents burst into tears the moment they hung up. They actually miss Malcolm terribly too, but in order to help him grow, they have no choice but to force themselves to be ruthless."

"I hope Malcolm won't hate his parents. Being a parent is incredibly hard too. They just want him to learn to be independent."

Fighting through the discomfort, I staggered to my feet and found a rag. Then, I soaked it in cold water and placed it on my forehead before collapsing back onto the bed.

I knew my parents did it for my own good and to help me grow up. But was I not even allowed to feel hurt or upset?

I hadn't lied, nor was I truly being soft. So, why did they have to punish me by telling me not to go home?

Two months later, I finally had a chance to return home.

I walked a full three hours along mountain paths just to get out of the village. Then, I took an hour-long bus ride into the city, followed by a two-and-a-half-hour train ride, before finally arriving at the gated villa community where my home was.

At the entrance, I was even stopped by the security guard.