Switched Life:I Went Viral on a Family Variety Show
Chapter 149 Just Repetitive Torture

Chapter 149: Chapter 149 Just Repetitive Torture

Ten minutes later, Hu Zhi finally managed to look up words in the dictionary with ease.

Sang Ning raised her index finger and jabbed the book forcefully, her voice sharp: "You know how to use the dictionary now. So what’s the problem this time?"

Hu Zhi tugged at the corners of her mouth unwillingly, pulling off an awkward smile: "Xiao Ning, figuring out single characters is sorted, but when a bunch of characters string into a row, I just struggle to read them."

As she spoke, she casually pointed to two characters, "Look at these, like ’亨调.’ At first glance, I misread it as ’调亨.’ Look at me—this blurry old eyesight of mine can’t even keep the order of characters straight. How am I supposed to learn anything?"

Sang Ning closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. After squashing down the urge to smack someone, she opened them again and pronounced each word heavily: "That’s called ’烹调,’ **cooking!**"

[亨调 my ass. Hu Zhi executes a masterclass in how a slacker can conjure up absurd yet somewhat plausible excuses to dodge learning.]

[Sister Sang’s patience became heart-wrenchingly good all of a sudden... If Hu Zhi weren’t her mom, today’s beating would’ve been non-negotiable.]

Sang Ning forcibly grabbed Hu Zhi’s finger and planted it onto the book: "From now on, each time you point to a character, I want you to **read it out loud.** If you mess up any character, you’re writing it out a thousand times. Let’s see if your so-called reading disability is really that serious."

Dragging Hu Zhi’s finger across the page, Sang Ning pointed forcefully at each character from left to right. Seeing Hu Zhi’s silence, she gritted her back teeth and growled: "**Read! Come on, say something!**"

[Sang Chuan: Writing a thousand times? Oh, this one’s easy, I’ve got it.]

[Sang Ning: Tutoring a slacker is just that straightforward and brutish—repeat torture, that’s it.]

The sheer intensity of Sang Ning’s presence nearly brought Hu Zhi to tears. She hadn’t expected that, at her advanced age, she’d still be living under the oppressive shadow of a teacher.

Hu Zhi began stammering through the characters she read. When she stumbled upon one she didn’t recognize, she’d turn her head, confused and pitiful, and look at Sang Ning.

Thinking playing the pity card might earn her a shred of sympathy from her daughter, she instead got yelled at: "**What are you staring at me for? Do I look like a dictionary? I just taught you how to use one—where, pray tell, did your memory go? Did a dog eat it?**"

Hu Zhi didn’t dare utter a word. Pouting slightly, she dropped her head and quietly reached for the dictionary.

[u1s1, Sang Ning replicates the look I have when tutoring my son. When I’m not tutoring, I’m still the soft-spoken, sweet-smiling mom. Once I start tutoring though, damn it, who’s the ferocious demon sitting at the front of that desk?]

[But hey, you’re tutoring your son; Sang Ning is tutoring her mom.]

[All I can do is give a shout-out to Sang Ning for the overwhelming labor—she’s supposed to be the daughter, the sister, and yet she’s acting as three moms rolled into one!]

[An unnamed Ms. Sang comments: Being part of the Sang Family means you can’t avoid losing your sanity—it’s all about hanging in there.]

Sang Ning sat to the side with arms crossed, her gaze cold as she stared down at Hu Zhi.

Under the oppressive gaze, Hu Zhi wept inwardly, yet kept her hands and mouth moving without pause.

Sang Ning insisted that Hu Zhi must read aloud, and any unfamiliar characters had to be looked up in the dictionary.

Half an hour later, Hu Zhi finally managed to plod through the first page and flipped over to the second.

Miraculously, upon reaching the second page, it was as if her meridians were suddenly unblocked.

She kept reading, and the sound gradually faded. Her eyes, as though rinsed clean of their haze, stopped mixing up the order of characters.

At this point, she finally picked up a pen. When coming upon unfamiliar characters, instead of simply looking them up, she began meticulously notating the pinyin above each one.

Sang Ning silently observed the change in Hu Zhi. Seeing her finally putting in effort, she quietly stood up and left the room.

Studying has always been a dull activity. Hu Zhi’s current focus could easily be a mere flash in the pan.

Better to leave her alone while she’s still enthusiastic—and when that enthusiasm inevitably fades, brute force could always reignite her ’passion.’

**

People don’t usually fall twice in the same spot, but a drunk can collapse a thousand times in a thousand places.

Sang Youming had long since lost count of how many times he’d passed out drunk, though he was certain this was the most horrifying wake-up call yet.

He squinted his eyes as he clawed his way up from the bed, his head feeling like someone had taken to it with relentless punches until dizziness pressed him to the verge of vomiting.

Head tilted, clutching his chest, Sang Youming prepared to throw up.

But try as he might to retch, nothing came out. He collapsed back against the headboard weakly, rubbing his stomach in small soothing circles.

"Dad, you’ve slept for the whole day. You must be hungry. How about some porridge to settle your stomach first?"

A gentle feminine voice sounded in his ear, making Sang Youming forget both his dizziness and nausea. He snapped his eyes open.

When he saw Sang Ning standing there holding a bowl of porridge, her face brimming with a friendly smile, he instinctively shrank toward the headboard.

"Drink it, Dad. Why aren’t you drinking? Mom cooked this millet porridge for you herself; it’s good for your stomach!"

Sang Ning scooped up a generous spoonful and brought it close to Sang Youming’s mouth. Her lips curved sweetly, the picture of an obedient and caring daughter.

Sang Youming felt a twitch of unease in his chest. Shuffling his lips nervously, he reached out with both hands to take the porridge from Sang Ning.

"I’ll manage it myself, sweetie. Honestly, you should be tougher with me. Like this... it feels weird. Almost like you’re giving me a last meal or something."

He snuck several glances at Sang Ning’s face but saw that her unwavering smile hadn’t budged. Only then did he dare to guzzle the porridge heartily.

While drinking, his eyes darted around the room. Not spotting any cameras, he finally relaxed completely.

Lowering the bowl, he grinned wide enough to show eight teeth: "Still, it’s my daughter, she knows how to care for her old dad."

Sang Ning didn’t bring up his drinking, and Sang Youming firmly avoided the topic too, hoping to brush over the matter entirely.

"A daughter caring for her father, that’s only natural. Hurry up and finish the porridge—it won’t taste as good once it’s cold." Sang Ning pressed the bowl closer to Sang Youming’s mouth with both hands.

This time, Sang Youming raised his head and gulped down the porridge, water-style.

Inwardly, he even felt a sly sense of triumph. Could it be that his daughter has finally realized she can’t control him and decided to give up on making him quit drinking altogether? Has she opted for post-drunk health management instead?

Seems like sheer stubbornness can actually lead to unconditional surrender from others!

Thinking this, Sang Youming’s courage swelled. After finishing the porridge, he handed the empty bowl to Sang Ning and shamelessly said: "Sweetie, I finished it—could you pour me another bowl?"

"Of course," Sang Ning replied easily, taking the empty bowl from him.

But instead of standing up, she placed the bowl on the nightstand and bent over toward the bedframe.

Sang Youming scratched the back of his head, puzzled: "Sweetie, what’re you doing?"

Just as the words left his mouth, Sang Ning straightened up abruptly, a large jug of liquor now in her hand. Her warm smile had vanished without a trace as her voice plunged into icy depths: "Aren’t you still thirsty? Let’s refill your glass."

Sang Youming: "..."

Who asked for liquor? He just wanted more porridge, damn it!