I'm Crushing on Gorgeous Faces in Variety Shows!

Chapter 492 - 491: Guan Yu Group’s Performance Room

It was a letter of determination, timid yet maddened, from a rural woman.

The man’s eyes rested on that piece of paper for a long time, then he tore it to shreds.

The woman was startled by his action, her eyes widened as she dove to grab it back, snatching the last bits of paper from the man’s hand.

"Don’t tear it! Don’t tear it!"

But the man didn’t listen at all, snatched back those bits, and shoved her away, her head hitting the corner of the table with a dull thud.

He directly tore the half-sheet with the words [Divorce Agreement] on it, tossed it onto her, then stood up towering over her.

He was mute, couldn’t speak, let alone yell, but sometimes a silent glare was even more terrifying.

The woman cowered in the corner of the table, too late to rub her throbbing head, only looked at him with fear, staring at his large hands hanging by his side.

It was that hand, capable of grabbing her and beating her black and blue, making it impossible for her to even attend her son’s school meetings.

"I, I..." Though scared, she had already taken the first step and didn’t want to stop, "Can we, can we divorce?"

Once she uttered the word ’divorce’, the rest came easily.

Her eyes swelled with tears, she flung herself at his legs, looking up at him pleadingly: "Let’s divorce, I’m begging you, what’s the point of a life like this? I can’t go on!"

Getting a woman accustomed to oppression to form a sense of resistance is difficult; many times they are more inclined to endure and carry on.

But once the sense of resistance arises, it’s hard to retract.

She had thought about this for half a month, finally uttered it, and must obtain a result.

The man looked at her pleading face, and finally, there was a crack in his indifferent expression.

He took a step back.

The woman seemed to see some hope, ignoring the tears streaming down her face, began to speak with a trembling voice:

"I won’t, I won’t tell anyone about this, I won’t tell my parents, I won’t let you lose face! I just want to move out with Xiao Yi; you can still see him!"

The man turned his head to look for something on the sofa.

"Here it is." The woman picked up a sketchbook from the corner of the sofa and cautiously handed it to him.

The man glanced at her, took it over, and wrote three words with the pen hanging from it.

[Why]

Why?

Is it because there’s nothing to do that she thinks about escaping? Or is it that she’s had enough of his beatings?

None of these.

The woman fell silent, her just-uplifted torso sank back down, kneeling on the ground.

A moment later, she scoffed at herself: "Didn’t you find someone at the construction site?"

Because of this, it was the first time she dared to scream and quarrel loudly with him, to resist when he hit her, scratching, biting, kicking, pointing at his nose to curse that he was bringing shame to their son.

But it was all useless.

Thinking about this, she stopped pleading as well, got up, wiped her tears away with the back of her hand, and said: "Divorce. I can’t go on. If you don’t agree, I’ll report you, accuse you of domestic violence and infidelity!"

The man reached out violently and shoved her onto the sofa, hitting her with the sketchbook again and again.

Her first reaction, however, was to look at the opposite room, whimpered, covered her mouth, and withdrew herself, letting out muffled groans.

He had hit her countless times, but being mute, as long as she covered her mouth and didn’t make a sound, their son in the room wouldn’t know what was happening outside.

The hitting stopped, the man gasped heavily, picked up the U-shaped pillow from the sofa, and struck her twice more with it.

The U-shaped pillow was the only thing their son brought back from a train trip with classmates to a competition; she bought it for him, afraid he wouldn’t rest well on the train.

Now it had become a handy tool for his domestic violence.

Her eyes were red and swollen, her hand and face bore welts from the blows.

How could she continue living like this?

A hoarse and painful wail squeezed out from her throat, and she threw herself at him to fight.

But after only a couple of moves, her hands were caught, and she was slammed to the ground with a dull "thud".

She lay on the ground, gasping heavily, her fingers curled into fists on the ground, emitting a sharp, grating sound.

Soon, a low, muffled sobbing sound came.

The man ignored her, went to the table to pour a glass of water, put it down with a thud after drinking.

The woman, who was crying, shuddered instinctively.

A shadow loomed over her; she looked up as the man scribbled a sentence on the discarded sketchbook and handed it to her.

[You can’t divorce]

[You don’t have the means to take him away]

At the mention of her son, she mustered the courage to shout at him, pushing the papers away.

"I can! I’m his mother; I have hands and feet and can raise him!"

[Raise him with what?]

"With..."

She suddenly fell silent.

Raise him with what? With money, but where would the money come from?

She didn’t have much education or skills, already accustomed to surviving each day in this cramped, old room doing household chores.

How would she earn enough to raise a child in high school? Enough for food, drink, living, study expenses, and dignity?

Seeing her speechless and stupefied, the man casually tossed the sketchbook onto the sofa, turned, opened the door to the opposite room, and went in to sleep.

Leaving the woman alone, sitting on the floor in a daze, tears streaming down her face.

"Mom."

From a dark, unlit corner, a tall, slim figure emerged.

The voice was slightly immature, wearing a blue and white school uniform, walking out awkwardly.

Who knows how long he had been standing there.

The woman was astonished, hurriedly wiped her tears, got up, and forced a smile as she walked toward him.

"Xiao Yi, why are you still up so late? Did we wake you?"

The boy named Xiao Yi shook his head, took a pack of tissues from his pocket, and handed her one.

Then he took out a small notebook he carried with him and earnestly wrote down a sentence.

"Do you want to divorce Dad?"

The woman was silent for a moment, gripping that piece of paper, not wiping her tears, then sidestepped him and started clearing the table of dishes.

"It’s an adult matter; kids should focus on studying."

"Mom!" The boy grabbed her, swiped the dishes aside, "You want to leave! Is he hitting you often?!"

The woman couldn’t hear, the boy stifled his frustration, wrote it down for her to see.

The woman felt awkward and embarrassed, after a while, she nodded with red eyes.

"Xiao Yi... Mom really, can’t go on like this."

The boy lowered his hand.

"But don’t overthink!" The woman quickly added, "Even if I divorce your dad, nobody will know, and I can take you with me!"

The boy looked at her steadily for a while, then slowly shook his head.

The woman was stunned.

Her voice was choked, saying: "You don’t want to come with me?"

The boy diligently wrote, and the woman’s heart was filled with panic and eagerness, involuntarily leaning in to read.

[I do. But it would be exhausting for you to support me on your own.]