A Young Woman's Heart

But no matter what, she was still willing to help them...

The saying "Many righteous men are from humble backgrounds" seems to hold true in the eyes of our ancestors.

That night.

My sister didn't cry.

But my sister secretly shed tears on many nights.

But she didn't want her sister to see her vulnerability.

Although they are twins and there is no age difference between them, the older sister always has to be stronger... or rather, she has to be strong.

Three months later, the two could no longer afford the rent for the spacious house and moved into a small rental room.

—It was a house without even a toilet; sleeping in it was like lying in a small warehouse full of junk.

That night.

My sister cried.

I cried for my parents three months ago, and I also cried because I will never have parents again.

"Why... are you suddenly so sad?" The older sister comforted her younger sister, somewhat at a loss. "Good sister, don't cry... we'll live in that big house again someday."

"No...it's not because of that..." Mo Zhuyou sobbed, wiping away her tears. She hiccuped several times and couldn't utter a single word.

So she simply started crying.

Let all the tears that weren't shed that day, and those that haven't been shed since, flow out.

Is three months a long time?

soon.

For the two sisters, it was as clear as if it had just happened yesterday.

Mo Xiaoxiao couldn't help but rub her reddened eyes when her younger sister cried.

"Sister, I...I...I'm so...scared...What will we do...what will we do in the future...what will we do...what will we do..."

"It's okay...it's alright." Mo Xiaoxiao's voice trembled with tears, but she forced a smile and said, "I'm here for you. Things will be alright in the future..."

"Um... Sister, I can't lose you again..."

"No, I won't lose you, I'll always be here."

"Forever and ever, forever and ever?"

Of course.

"Ok!"

Mo Zhuyou wiped away her tears and smiled through them.

Three months might be considered a long time, but at least the grief over the passing of her parents will soon dissipate.

The two sisters sat on a cardboard box, looking out the window.

On the cardboard box next to it was an envelope containing the minimum amount of money paid by the current 'surrogate caregiver'.

One hundred a month.

It barely covers the rent.

However, to survive, you need even more money.

"Let's go see where we can find work tomorrow."

"Will any place accept us?" The younger sister frowned worriedly.

"Yes, we will... We just need to be diligent and not be afraid of hardship or fatigue." The older sister gently stroked her younger sister's long hair. "We can also collect cardboard and Coke bottles to sell for money."

"It's so dirty."

“…Then I’ll do it.”

"Um...I...I...with my sister..."

On that cold winter night.

The city streets are decorated with lanterns and colorful decorations, full of the festive atmosphere of the New Year.

The Spring Festival is approaching, but it seems to have nothing to do with the two of them.

An old beggar, his feet frostbitten, draped in tattered clothes, limped to the foot of the overpass, trying to endure the long night.

The older and younger sisters embraced each other and fell asleep under the not-so-thick blankets.

From that day on, the younger sister only had her older sister to lean on... and for the older sister, the younger sister was actually her only source of emotional support.

The next morning.

The sun is shining brightly.

Fine dust particles floated in the air.

People downstairs were talking animatedly. The thin walls offered little sound insulation, so even huddled under the covers, one could hear their conversation.

"I saw that old beggar just a few days ago..."

"Oh dear, I never thought I'd freeze to death."

"It is said that he doesn't even have a wife and has always been alone."

"Sigh, I still couldn't make it through this winter..."

The older sister instinctively tightened her grip on her younger sister's hand.

She thought to herself:

She was determined to spend every winter with her sister...

No matter how cold the winter is.

……

Chapter Eleven: Stories Never Belong to Just One Person

Friday, July 12, 2001.

This is the early 21st century, the era imagined by countless science fiction writers.

However, while technology has indeed advanced, it is far from reaching the level they envisioned.

There are no cars floating in the sky; people can't easily communicate with each other via video calls; and there are no ubiquitous virtual projections—after all, even subways aren't widespread in the world yet.

A group of elementary school students passing by were talking animatedly about video phone technology, imagining what such a device would look like.

One person said it would definitely be a large glass plate, while another said it would be some kind of chip implanted under the skin. As long as you think about it, the image of someone far away will immediately appear in your mind.

"Hahoo..." Mo Xueyao yawned and staggered out of the fruit shop. Su Tang next to her covered her mouth with her tail and yawned as well.

The gloomy clouds made her want to go back to her warm bed as soon as she came out.

In the large iron basin by the door, my mother was neatly stacking firewood.

The rice cooker next to the counter is steaming, and you can already smell the faint aroma of rice porridge.

"What's going on?" Mo Xueyao moved the cardboard box next to her a little, and staggered to the outside of the fruit shop. Before she even started washing up, she was so cold from the tap water that she immediately pulled her hand back.

Li Wanyan, who was stacking cardboard boxes against the wall of the fruit shop, casually turned on the switch, and icy water immediately flowed into Mo Xueyao's toothbrush cup and washbasin.

"Okay, okay, that's enough... Mom—is there any hot water?"

"The coal briquettes haven't arrived yet, so we can't burn them."

"Can't we use an electric kettle?"

"Let's wear out our current ordinary teapots first."

"So, is there hot water...?"

Li Wanyan shook her head helplessly, her gaze falling on the thermos next to Mo Xueyao's legs: "I just brought back a kettle of hot water, that should be enough for you to wash up."

"Huh, why is it here..." Mo Xueyao chuckled awkwardly, picked up the thermos wrapped in rough red plastic, popped open the stopper with a 'pop', and poured the hot water into the basin with a 'glug glug'.

In such a winter, she couldn't stand washing up with cold water in the morning.

It's not like Uncle Bear from the ice cream warehouse next door. When she went to play with DouDou yesterday afternoon, she saw him standing outside taking a cold shower—and he was directly rinsing himself with that rubber hose.

After all, his coarse chest hair and thick layer of fat should offer some protection against the cold...

A red sports car stopped in front of the fruit shop, and the passenger window slowly rolled down, revealing half of Ye Wen's face.

"What would you like to buy?" The father greeted him skillfully, knowing he couldn't let go of a customer who looked like he was very wealthy.

"This is Yaoyao and Yanyan's homeroom teacher." His mother, who had attended a parent-teacher conference, rolled her eyes at him.

"Such a beautiful homeroom teacher? I'll attend the next parent-teacher conference!" the father said, half-jokingly and half-seriously, as he walked over to the sports car. "Homeroom teacher? What's up? Is something the matter?"

"Hello, Mo Xueyao... and Li Wanyan's parents." Ye Wen paused slightly, then continued, "I was just passing by, so I thought I'd give you your report cards and the rest of your winter break homework so you don't have to go to school to get them later."

"That would be too much trouble for you. Actually, the road isn't far."

"Thank you, Wen!" Mo Xueyao, who had just finished brushing her teeth, waved excitedly at them with her face still covered in foam. Wang Qianyu, the English teacher sitting in the driver's seat, also smiled and nodded at her.

What was distributed was actually the winter break workbook—test papers and such had already been assigned beforehand.

"Then let's go to school first."

"Okay, goodbye, teacher!" The father nodded and bowed earnestly, his rough face creased with wrinkles.

Mo Xueyao quickly washed her face and wanted to look at her report card, but her mother pulled her back. Only after washing her face as usual did she finally see her report card.

"you……"

"Don't say it!" she immediately stopped her father. "I'll see for myself!"

"Hmm... it's still gone down, but thankfully not by much..." she muttered, looking at it over and over again.

"It's gone down?" The mother's eyes widened immediately. "How much has it gone down?"

"It's alright... cough... I didn't exceed the limit. My total score dropped from ninth to thirteenth in the whole grade... I guess I just performed a little worse. Actually, sometimes this difference in ranking is only one or two points!"