Extreme Is Paranoia.

My name is Mei Wenhua. I am not a good person, but I am a father.

I was born in a remote mountainous area that was very poor, like the rest of the village.

Back then, every household had many siblings. My family was no exception. I had 1 older sister, 2 younger brothers, and 2 younger sisters.

I was ranked second in the family, so everyone called me Mei. I didn't really like that nickname, mainly because it was too embarrassing.

When I was 15 years old, one of my younger brothers was kidnapped while out playing with my other younger siblings. Fortunately the others were unharmed.

My parents cried and fainted several times. I also felt like my heart was being stabbed. At that time, I made a decision that I would go out and find him.

That year, I left home with a quilt of old cotton padding, some food and a little over ten dollars. I went to the city.

It was very difficult to survive in the city. I changed jobs many times, got scammed many times, and was beaten many times.

But I did not give up, because I knew that in order to find my younger brother, I would need money and people, otherwise I wouldn't be able to find him on my own.

When I was 16, I met someone who told me to follow him. Without hesitation, I later found out he was a prominent figure in the criminal underworld.

From then on, I spent several years living a dangerous life, fearing that I might get killed on the streets at any moment.

Fortunately, I was lucky. I had several close brushes with death but always managed to escape. I also learned many new skills.

Gradually, people started calling me Second Master Mei. I also earned my own reputation in the underworld.

It's fair to say that life treated me well. That year, my boss was sent to prison and I became the new leader.

It was at this point that my career really took off. I started doing business, both legitimate and illegitimate, and saw great success.

The number of people working under me grew steadily, as did my wealth. I did not forget about finding my younger brother, and started searching everywhere.

Three years went by without a single clue. I was furious. I wanted to know who did this to me. I was going to skin them alive.

My underworld experience told me that I would probably never find my younger brother again. I understood that, but could not accept it.

During that time, I was in a daze and tried to drink away my sorrows, having lost my purpose in life.

It was around then that my girlfriend told me she was pregnant.

I did not love that woman, but for some reason, looking at her growing belly gave me a profound feeling, as if something precious was growing inside.

Later, we got married. I felt like I was alive again, especially seeing her belly grow bigger and bigger. I was so happy and excited.

Ten months later, the baby was born, a boy.

When I held him in my arms and he waved his tiny hands in front of my eyes while making incomprehensible sounds, I swore that for this child, I would give everything.

After that, I basically stopped taking care of my business to spend all my time with the child. He was my most precious treasure. I loved him so much.

"Dad...dad...daddy..."

The child laboriously called out while looking at me innocently. My heart melted. I wanted to protect him from all harm.

At that moment, nothing else mattered - no money or power, revenge or women. Everything paled in comparison to that child.

But it seemed life wanted to play a cruel joke on me.

Just as I was immersed in happiness, a medical checkup revealed my son, at two years old, had leukemia and other complications like vitiligo.

It felt like the sky had fallen. That day, I almost tore down the entire hospital.

From then on, I called upon all my connections and resources worldwide to seek the best doctors who could cure my child.

But every doctor said his disease was terminal and we could only try to prolong his life by a few years.

I refused to believe it. I would never give up. So I started seeking alternative solutions - folk remedies, shamans, and every rumored miracle cure. I would try anything that had a chance of working.

This process lasted 6 full years. I traveled all over the world, spent an ungodly sum of money, and killed countless people.

Finally, in an obscure book I found a method called "cleansing."

After being "cleansed" ninety-nine times, my child would be redeemed and obtain new life.

Of course this method required extensive preparation, all of which I memorized meticulously.

From that day forth, I changed my line of work. This was necessary,

because I knew it would give me more access to children to carry out my plan to save my child.

When my child's mother found out, she called me insane, said I was possessed, and threatened to call the cops on me.

I was furious. How could she fail to understand I was trying to save our child? The woman had no heart. She deserved to die.

So I killed her and used her body to perform the first "cleansing" on my son.

The surgery was very successful. My child's condition improved noticeably. I could tell. My child even woke up and cried. I thought they must be tears of gratitude.

From then on, after every new group of children arrived in Western Xikang, I would pick one and take them away. No one knew where I had taken them. And I would never tell them.

Because these children's lives would save my own child. They were precious. Every time I was extremely careful not to waste a single drop, and channeled it all to my son.

Each time I collected that holy water, I could feel the rich vitality within. I knew it would work. That fountain of life would enable my child to recover, it had to.

Gradually, two more years went by. I became certain that after ninety-nine cleansings, my son would make a full recovery.

Because for the past two years, although he stopped chemotherapy, he continued to cling to life and even improved somewhat. He no longer vomited blood or fainted all the time, just slept most of the time.

I was overjoyed and full of anticipation. I promised my son that once he recovered, I would take him out to play. He had never gone out to play before!

That's right, he had never gone out to play before. Thinking about that crushed my heart like a knife. I hated heaven. Why inflict such suffering on my innocent child?

Why? Why did other children get to be healthy and happy while my child had to endure pain and torture every day?

I refused to accept it. So I was determined to save my child no matter what - no price was too high, nothing was off limits!