Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Ni Jiajia had a heart-shaped face, big eyes, and fair skin.

Her eyelashes were long.

Like little fans.

Whenever people saw her, they would ask Mom:

“Is your child a child model?”

Mom would press her lips together to hide a smile and say:

“Oh, not at all.”

She looked so proud.

Then I would call out: “Mom.”

The person would look surprised, seeing a child with a runny nose and a face red from the cold-a face that belonged to a total bystander-and ask:

“Is this your daughter too?”

The corners of Mom’s mouth would drop, her expression turning flat as she said, “Yeah.”

“The younger one.”

The person would laugh:

“I bet the older one snatched all the nutrients in the womb, didn’t she?”

Mom would laugh too:

“Well, that just means the older one is capable.”

Ni Jiajia snatched my nutrients.

A casual joke from an adult.

A child took it seriously.

For a long time, I held a grudge against Ni Jiajia.

Actually, it wasn’t that long.

Two or three months, maybe.

It manifested specifically in me stealing her fruit.

Bright red strawberries.

Glossy cherries.

Strange-smelling durian.

Mom always prepared the best parts for Ni Jiajia.

On a big plate.

Leaving a pile of scraps for me.

I’d finish mine and still crave more, so I’d stealthily take some from her bowl.

After a few times, my parents caught me.

Ni Jiajia cried and said, “Sister is stealing my fruit.”

When she cried, she looked like the Little Mermaid from a fairy tale illustration, shedding pearl-like tears.

Pitiful and adorable.

I stiffened my neck and said:

“You stole my nutrients when we were in the womb!”

She said, “I did not!”

I argued unreasonably, “You did, you did!”

As I got worked up, I made faces, my features twisting every which way.

Compared to Ni Jiajia, I looked like a malevolent spirit descended to earth.

A bitter, mean old hag bullying a little princess.

It made Mom so angry she grabbed a clothes hanger to swat my butt:

“What kind of nonsense is that!”

“It’s bad enough you’re ugly, but your heart is so wicked too!”

I jumped around, dodging Mom’s hanger.

I wailed for mercy: “I was wrong, I was wrong.”

Mom put her hands on her hips and said, “Your sister doesn’t owe you anything.”

“If I catch you stealing your sister’s things again, I’ll beat you to death.”

Ni Jiajia didn’t steal my nutrients.

Then why was she so beautiful?

And why was I so ordinary?

I couldn’t figure it out.

Why did Mom and Dad treat her better?

I didn’t get it.

So I went to ask someone else.

Downstairs in the residential complex.

Ji Shu and I sat side-by-side, each with half a popsicle.

“Do you have a brother?” I asked Ji Shu.

He slurped. “Yeah, why?”

“Does your mom treat your brother better too?”

“What do you mean by ‘better’?”

He looked at me.

I thought about it and said, “Like… always giving him the best food at dinner, giving him more fruit, only signing him up for prep classes…”

He thought for a moment and shook his head. “No.”

“But isn’t not going to prep classes a good thing?”

We looked at each other.

“True.”

Mom signed Ni Jiajia up for so many classes-piano, poise and etiquette, hosting, and so on.

Every time she went out, she had to wear a pretty little dress and get all dolled up.

All her free time was packed full.

But I was different.

I could run out and play like crazy whenever and wherever I wanted.

While I was building sandcastles with the other kids in the complex, Ni Jiajia was in prep classes.

Prep classes.

They sounded miserable.

Thinking about it that way…

Ni Jiajia was so pitiful.

Suddenly, I felt much better.

Ji Shu asked, “You have a sister?”

I said, “Yeah.”

He gave an “oh” and didn’t ask anything else.

All that remained was the sound of the two of us slurping our popsicles.