God Of Crafting

Chapter 76: How a hard-working young man turned into a spoiled brat

"Looking at how calm you are right now, it's hard to believe you ever had a rebellious phase," Claire said with a small hint of a smirk on her lisp, a clear attempt at easing the air around us now that I've brought up the topic that inevitably made it tense up.

"It's but a result of getting burned for all my mistakes and nearly going way too far due to my own stubbornness," I admitted to a part of myself that I've long since accepted. "But back then…"

I closed my mouth, making the two of us walk in silence for a short while.

A short while that then extended all the way to the point where we left the cultivation district, only for Clarie to call in an automated cab to get us all the way back to the outer part of the town's suburbs where our villa was located.

It wasn't until the doors of the cab closed behind us that I finally managed to calm my memories down and kill the shame I felt over how I used to be, allowing me to open my mouth again and speak properly rather than tripping over every other word.

"When I turned fifteen, I grew too tired of the burden that my father's way of living put on me… No, the burden it would put on anyone who tried to follow in his footsteps."

Claire's hand moved up as her fingers entangled with mine before squeezing down.

And as silly as it could be for a twenty-five-year-old me to be affected by that… I still felt reassured.

"Was it that hard?" Claire asked, using her hold over my hand to slide a bit closer over the cab's sofa as she pressed herself against my side and rested her head over my shoulder.

"Looking back, not really?" I struggled to find the right way and, the right intonation for my answer. "It wasn't the daily life that was hard. My father's expectations always fell within the realm of possibility constructed upon my talents and potential… But it was the end goal that kept putting me down."

I sighed and leaned heavily against the backrest of the cab's long seat.

"You see, I don't really mind working hard if it leads to something. That's how I managed to cope for the two years since my father's fall-out with the uncle, which only made him all the more strict with how he brought me up. But by the time I turned fifteen…"

This time, my sigh grew quite a lot longer.

"Back then, I realized that all that laid ahead of me if I kept going along with my father's guidance… was more of the same." I shook my head. "The only reward for working hard was to work even harder in the future. The only result of all the effort would be greater requirements down the line. And no matter how hard I tried…"

I pursed my lips before gritting my teeth.

Even now, after I've already internalized all of those problems and found what I believed to be the right answers to them, just recalling that part of my life was enough for a hint of doubt to once again sneak into my mind and start sowing the chaotic seeds of… well, chaos.

"No matter how hard I tried, there didn't seem to be any reward at the end of the road. There was nothing that would make my efforts worthwhile."

This time, I didn't sigh, shake my head, bit down on my lips, or do anything else. I just… stared dead ahead with a blank look on my face.

"And so, with my moment of vulnerability, doubt, and rebellion, I just happened to chance upon my uncle and, eager to see what his conflict with my father was for myself, accepted his invitation for a meal."

By now, I could no longer hold the same, empty expression on my face. And it was all because…

It was all because, to this very day, I wasn't really sure how to judge the things that followed.

"To cut a long story short, my uncle wasted no time, effort, or money to burden me with tasks much lighter than my father did… while always making sure an appropriate reward would wait for me the very moment I was done."

Rather than commenting on the story or trying to put her own two cents to it, Claire simply caressed my arm with her hands as she locked her eyes on my face and listened in perfect silence and with perfect focus.

"It's not like my parents were poor, allowing my uncle to brainwash me by just throwing some pennies my way. No, not at all," I shook my head to put an emphasis on that fact… or rather, the convenient lie by omission.

Because the truth was, my family never allowed me to experience the feeling of being poor. And even though later, when I looked back at those times, it was obvious there were moments when the money in the family budget was short…

It was a burden my hard-working parents never allowed to affect me.

"It's not like I couldn't play games with my friends… but my parents refused to give me the things I wanted. I never got a scooter when most of my friends rode around the town in one. I didn't have the latest gaming consoles or the newest model of a phone. And while now I know how meaningless if not outright harmful buying those things would be for the young me, back then…"

"Back then, it didn't seem the same way as it does now, right?"

When Claire intruded on my story for the very first time, she appeared to do so only to prove just how attentively she listened to my words.

Strangely enough, after all the experiences I had of people cutting me off and abusing my dislike of doing the same to them… I actually felt great when Claire did so!

"That's right," I nodded my head, only to open my mouth… right as the cab came to a stop, announcing the end of our ride. "And so, when my uncle started to shower me with rewards for every tiniest thing I did, it took only a few months for me to turn into an arrogant, spoiled brat."