After murdering my gambling, whoring, and abusive husband, I raised my son to obtain a doctorate degree by scavenging for trash.

But after his graduation, he turned me in for killing his father.

"Do you think you are very virtuous? I hate you the most! You robbed me of my father!"

"Go to jail and repent for your sins!"

After being reincarnated, I saw my son shivering under the table. However, I chose to abandon him.

He wanted a father, didn't he?

This time, I would fulfil his wish.

"You slut, you can earn hundreds and thousands of bills by opening your legs, and yet you refuse?"

"I'm telling you, you must become a prostitute, or I’ll kill you!"

I opened my eyes and saw my husband's fierce face. Oh, his name was Louis Burton.

Faced with his raised fist, I instinctively covered my head and dodged.

But as I lowered my head, I saw my son, Bernard Burton, crumpled in a heap under my feet.

Seeing the fearful expression on his face, I was taken aback. But this led to me being punched by Louis.

A moment later, it finally dawned on me that I was reborn.

I had been reincarnated back to twenty years ago, a time when I had not yet poisoned my gambling and abusive husband to death.

......

In my previous life, not long after I married Louis, he was introduced to the vice of gambling.

As the saying went, gambling, prostitution and drug abuse often went hand in hand.

After Louis became infatuated with gambling, he naturally picked up other bad habits, such as hiring prostitutes, and smoking and drinking excessively.

Over the years, our once-profitable family assets were gradually depleted by him.

In the end, even our house was mortgaged.

When he could no longer get ahold of money, he forced me into prostitution.

Among his bad company of friends, it was not uncommon for wives to sell their bodies to fund their husband's gambling addictions.

Louis had the same thought and tried to force me into the same predicament to raise money for his gambles.

However, I immediately ran to the kitchen and picked up a knife. Louis retreated after seeing my stern resistance.

......

When I first discovered he was gambling, Louis fell onto his knees, vowing he would change.

However, when his friends found out, they started to ridicule him.

"Woman are just accessories to men, how could you apologize to a woman?"

"Women always pick fights, next time she disrespects you, give her a beating to make her obey you."

"That's right! If beating her once doesn't work, then beat her twice; after several times, she'll fear you."

"Look at my wife; she used to be the prettiest girl in school. Now, she still sells her body willingly to earn money and support the family. This is how women are! If you treat her too nicely, she would start disrespecting you! You're spoiling her too much!"

Louis was persuaded after his friends encouraged him.

When I tried to dissuade him from gambling, he responded by brandishing his fists at me.

I was at a loss for words and stuck in surprise, unable to react to what was happening.

Seeing that I didn't react after he had beaten me, Louis became more confident that what his friends had told him was correct.

From then on, he began to habitually abuse me.

When Bernard's crying ruined his afternoon nap, he beat me. If he disapproved of the meal I cooked, he would beat me. He would hit me again when he lost money to vent his frustration.

In short, ever since he began laying hands on me, I had become his punching bag.

Of course, because Bernard was his only heir, Louis seldom hit him.

But how could Bernard remain unaffected growing up in such a family environment?

Every time he saw Louis returning, he would shiver in fear, like a pitiful little kitten.

......

Also, it was not like I'd never thought of divorcing him.

But when I brought up the idea of divorce, my parents would be the first to object.

My dad said, "Many men out there hit their wives too! You're actually considering divorce over such a small matter? Our family doesn't have a tradition of divorce, if you really do it, I'll disown you!"

My mom also pleaded with me privately. She said, "Apple, just bear it a little longer! The storm will pass! If you get divorced, you'll be the laughingstock of your lifetime, our family can't bear this shame!"

Upon learning of the situation, my in-laws initially acted like they were going to kneel down and beg me not to divorce, looking pitiful.

After they found out that my parents didn't care about Louis beating me, they simply turned a blind eye and stopped interfering.

Louis, upon learning of my intention to divorce, started hitting and kicking me, even threatening that if I dared divorce him, he would kill my entire family.

I was terrified by Louis' violent demeanor.

Moreover, my parents didn't support me, and my son was so young, so I decided to keep bearing with it.

I thought that I would endure it until Louis beat me to death.

Unexpectedly, Louis, who never used to lay a hand on Bernard, kicked him one day.

When we got to the hospital, the doctor said that Bernard had internal bleeding and that we were lucky to have arrived just on time; in a while it would've been too late.

In order to save Bernard, I tried everything and managed to borrow five thousand dollars.

Before this five thousand could even be used for the hospital, it was snatched away by Louis when he came back.

My leg was also mercilessly crushed by him in the process of trying to fight for the money.

Because we had no money for treatment, I became a cripple.

In that moment, intense murderous intent toward Louis rose up within me for the first time.

That five thousand dollars was the life-saving money for my son.

I could endure it if Louis hit me, but I would never let him risk my son's life!

Fortunately, at the critical moment, a kind-hearted person couldn't bear to see it and paid the medical fees for me, saving Bernard's life.

After Bernard and I were discharged, I only had one thought in mind.

Since Louis didn't allow me to divorce him, it seemed that I was left with no choice but to be widowed!

......

Louis loved eating pickled snacks.

I recalled seeing nitrite poisoning incidents on TV shows before, so I deliberately searched for information and then pickled a batch of vegetables.

Under normal pickling procedures, the level of nitrites in pickled vegetables naturally wouldn't exceed the limit, but I purposefully tampered with them. I also purchased some nitrites and used them as table salt in the preserved pickles.

Over time, Louis' body accumulated more and more nitrites and his lips visibly turned purplish.

After painstaking efforts over two years, Louis finally died of poisoning during a barbecue with his gang of stupid friends.

Upon Louis' sudden death, his friends were naturally terrified.

I didn't intend to vindicate Louis, so his death was ruled as sudden death due to gambling and staying up late.

After Louis' death, our house was repossessed by the bank.

But I didn’t care. That house filled with dark memories, I didn’t want to keep living in it anyway!

With the one thousand dollars compensation I obtained from Louis' useless friends, my son and I moved into a basement that cost only one hundred and fifty dollars a month.

Although the place was dark, it offered me an immense sense of tranquility.

Ironically, because Louis' assault had left me crippled, I was eligible for some monthly benefits.

Seeing my plight, community workers allocated me a job to clean the streets.

In my perspective, there was nothing more important than sustaining my son with a job.

Thus, I cleaned and rummaged through dustbins for plastic bottles to sell.

Bernard was also enrolled in a school.

I continuously urged him to study hard and never to become a wretched person like his father.

In his studies, he had been commendably diligent, bringing no worry to me. His maturity was heartrending.

From my understanding, his early maturity was attributed to his abusive father, which made him empathetic toward me, his own mother.

No matter how taxing or difficult our situation was; as long as he continued his studies, I would support him until he completed his doctorate.

On the day of his graduation, everyone, including myself, thought that my hardships had come to an end and better days were coming.

But to my utter disbelief, my son who I had raised and protected with all my sweat and blood, betrayed me brutally after more than 20 years. He drove a knife straight through my heart!

The first thing he did after his doctoral graduation was report to the police that I had deliberately plotted to harm his father in the past!

The son for whom I had struggled and devoted my life turned out to be an ingrate!

What I find most unacceptable was that before I was taken away by the police, he looked at me with a face full of resentment. "Mom, do you think you're so great? Are you so touched by your own sacrifices?"

"I’ll tell you what, I'm not grateful at all that you raised me! The person I hate the most is you!"

"I lost Dad because of you, and for years I've been living on thin ice, taking each step carefully!"

"Would I be living in a dark, cramped, and damp basement if Dad was still around? Would my mother be someone like you, so pathetic that I can’t even introduce you to others?"

"Do you know how shameful it is for me to have a mother like you? Because of you, I don’t even dare to confess my feelings to the girl I like and could only helplessly watch as other rich boys chase after her!"

"I can finally earn money now, but don't think for a second that I am grateful to you, that I would support you when you get old! You can go and repent to Dad in prison!"

Hah!

Repent to a man who abused me?

What a pathetic and tragic joke.

These words come from my own son, who had watched his mother being abused by his own father since he was a child.

In the past, many neighbors would envy me for having such a nice and considerate son. They complained that their own sons were ambitious and no longer cared about their mothers. They would sigh about how it was hard to find a son who sympathized with his mother's struggles. They would always say daughters were better than sons.

Previously, I didn't agree with that because I had such an understanding son.

But when my son looked at me full of hate and blamed me for making him lose his father, I suddenly gained a profound understanding of those words.

True enough; my own god damn son couldn't understand my efforts and hardships at all!

Hahaha!

Pft!

To hell with his lack of empathy!

Wasn't it because all the hardship that should belong to him, was borne by me, his freaking mother?

If I hadn't used my body to carry it all, would he think he could grow up without worry, graduate his doctorate degree without any troubles?

But this time, I would not give a damn anymore!

He blamed me for making him lose his father, right?

He resented me for disgracing him, right?

I was the one he hated the most, right?

Well, alright then!

I hoped he would not blame me then, for fulfilling his wishes.

He wanted a father, right?

I would give him one!

He despised me for bringing disgrace?

Then I might as well disown him!

I wanted to see how a son who yearned for a father would handle a punch in this face!