With no one to care for her, I had no choice but to carry her on my back during the day while working odd jobs in the factory and taking on handicraft work at night, striving to support us both.
As she grew up, despite our poor living conditions, she didn't fare worse than her peers. Her cleverness made me feel that everything was worthwhile.
When she got into the best university in the city, I was so proud. To earn money, to escape that stagnant home, and to see my daughter often, I started selling pancakes at the back door of the school.
The first time she saw me with friends at my stall, her shock was evident. I was overjoyed, waiting for her to call me "Mom," but instead, she hurriedly turned away, embarrassed.
She grabbed her friend and left.
I stood there, watching her retreating figure, feeling a deep sense of loss.
But I consoled myself, thinking that children care about their image. Maybe she just needed time to accept it.
Late at night, as I was closing up, she rushed over.
I was thrilled and quickly took out the portion I had saved for her, eager to warm it up.
I knew deep down that my daughter still cared for me.
But when she spoke, it was only to question, "Mom, why are you selling pancakes here? What will my classmates think of me?"
My heart sank instantly. "Sophie, if you don't let me sell, how will I pay for your tuition and living expenses?"
She stomped her foot, looking like she couldn't communicate with me at all. "I knew you would say that. But there was no need to set up right outside my school!"
"Can't a mom just want to see her daughter?"
"Mom, you're an adult. Can't you live for yourself? I'm your daughter, not your accessory!"
That night, we parted on bad terms.
I understood her feelings, but I didn't want to spend another day and night with a man who reeked of alcohol, nor did I want to work in a dark, lifeless workshop anymore.
I wanted to stay here, in this vibrant campus filled with lively students, where I could see my daughter. Here, I felt a sense of peace and hope for life.
Even though she protested with silence and refused to speak to me first, I stubbornly stayed, keeping my distance and trying not to disturb her.
One day, while I was busy setting up my stall, I suddenly spotted my daughter stepping out of a luxury car, beaming with a radiant smile.
The driver was a notorious playboy from a wealthy family!