# Touch your head By [Touch your head](https://paragraph.com/@touch-your-head) ยท 2024-12-06 --- When I was fourteen years old, I was already at the same height as my father, but I never took the initiative to talk to him. That day, I told my father, 'I want to fight!' My father looked at me indifferently and said, 'I owe you a beating!' He's right. Since I can remember, he has been beating me to the death. My father is a teacher, and if he doesn't drink or smoke well, he will beat me up. We are four brothers, and I have the worst academic performance. My father always says that hitting me once will improve my grades, so I often get beaten by my father. However, apart from being beaten up during exams, my father has never hit me for any other reason. Actually, I can't explain why, but it actually makes me even more sad. I just want to be someone like 'Er Mozi'. I have to admit, I have never seen 'Er Mozi'. He has always lived in the description of others: he is a little rascal, with thick eyebrows and big eyes, a tightly closed mouth, and never smiles. Just like when you see the word 'rural', you think of farmers, crops, and cattle and sheep. When I hear someone talk about the three words' Ermozi ', my mind is filled with fists, blood, and knives. It seems like he is me, and I have become him. This feeling excites and makes me feel familiar. I started to fall in love with 'Laughing Proudly in the Jianghu', and the books were all ruined by me. I'll watch it whenever I have time. After watching a segment, I'll close my eyes and imagine myself and Linghu Chong going out into the world of rivers and lakes, fighting, drinking, dating, learning the art of sucking stars, and learning the Nine Swords of Dugu. I even designed several moves for him and drew a sketch in his workbook, naming them "Gu's Seven Swords". My father often stayed on campus while teaching, so he didn't have time to stare at me. I felt relieved and woke up early in the morning, punching and kicking in the yard, sweating profusely, drinking two bowls of corn porridge, and walking lightly when I went to school again. I only come home from school after dark every night. My backpack is filled with textbooks and a brick, which is my weapon and hand. I am always ready to face a battle or a surprise attack. Even if someone finds my father, I don't mind. I also need to let my father know that I am a man now, and I have plenty of strength. That night, around seven or eight o'clock, the moon would occasionally emerge from the dark clouds and stare at me. The one meter wide path seemed to have sprinkled salt, winding around the haystack at the intersection and then walking away. At this moment, a figure walked over, shorter than me. I quietly hid behind the haystack, holding my backpack tightly in my arms. I waited for the shadow to approach, but I saw a young woman humming, 'My home lives on a high slope of yellow soil, and the strong wind blows over the slope.' I knew she was afraid to walk at night and deliberately sang to boost her courage. But I heard that 'Er Mozi' never hits women, and I can't hit women either, it's boring. I let her go and waited quietly for the next target. Another figure appeared. This time it's a man, about the same height as me, but he looks sturdy and big. But he's empty handed, so I don't have to be afraid of him. His footsteps approached, and I tightly grasped my backpack, ready for a sudden attack, such as "Flying Dragon in the Sky" like Linghu Chong, smashing him so hard on the head from the air, first scaring him and then kicking him twice --- *Originally published on [Touch your head](https://paragraph.com/@touch-your-head/touch-your-head)*