Chapter 31.1 - Story Sister (1)
All the expenses for the whole day were paid by Sheng Huainan. Luo Zhi felt very embarrassed. Although his actions seemed completely natural, she still felt extremely awkward.
When the table was finally filled with dishes, she still quietly said, “Thank you for today.”
Sheng Huainan gave her a helpless look and said, “Come on, what are you thanking me for?”
There was no point in saying more—she knew he would understand, so she quietly focused on eating and didn’t explain further.
“If you really want to thank me,” he said, “tell me about someone from your childhood who left a deep impression on you. Consider it a form of thanks.”
“Why? That sounds kind of strange.”
“But I told you about the Fourth Consort last time, didn’t I? I feel like, for you to have grown into the person you are now, your childhood must have been quite unique.”
“I’ll say it again—psychology isn’t such a simple subject. Stop assuming everything stems from childhood trauma.”
“Come on, tell me. I really want to hear it.” His tone was similar to how she had begged him earlier to talk about his first love—only his came with a bit of playful teasing. Luo Zhi was embarrassed and nodded, saying, “Alright, just don’t think the story is too boring.”
For a moment, she had an impulse to tell that story—but it seemed too soon. It felt like he wouldn’t be able to understand it yet. The idea of someone understanding you completely without words was a fantasy.
“When I was little, there was a big sister I really admired and liked.” Her opening was rather dull.
“Not a big brother, huh...”
“Don’t interrupt!”
Sheng Huainan smirked and waved his hand as if surrendering.
“When I was five, my grandmother’s old house was demolished, and my mom and I rented a small place temporarily in a bungalow courtyard on the outskirts of the city. That area is now part of a development zone, but when I lived there, the roads were still dirt. In spring, dust would blow into your face and make it hard to open your eyes. When we played ‘Red Light, Green Light, Little White Light,’ we’d step in dog poop. When it rained, the roads got so muddy that you could barely walk. It really wasn’t a great place. But I always thought it was beautiful. After it rained, there were always rainbows. Because the area was full of single-story houses, no tall buildings blocked the sky, so it felt really vast. I think I saw all the rainbows I’d ever see in my life back then. Now, the only time I can see one is near a fountain. The rainbows back then were so pretty—full arcs that stretched across the sky like bridges. We kids always wondered together: what’s at the end of the rainbow? And our unanimous answer was: the Heavenly Pool.” Luo Zhi laughed and suddenly caught herself. “Ah, sorry, I’m getting off-topic.”
Sheng Huainan listened intently and shook his head. “No, keep going.”
He looked so serious that Luo Zhi felt a little nervous.
“My little playmates didn’t go to kindergarten. Their parents were usually alcoholics or fighting all the time, so no one really looked after the kids.”
“Our leader was the ‘Story Sister.’”
“She was already in elementary school. In my memory, she wasn’t pretty at all. But she had a best friend who was very pretty—or at least, that’s what I thought at the time. Looking back now, she probably seemed pretty just because her house was cleaner and a bit more spacious than ours, and she always wore skirts and had bright red hair accessories in her ponytail. So she seemed beautiful. Oh, and there was a boy—their classmate. The three of them always went to and from school together.”
“You can probably guess what happened—love triangle.” Luo Zhi laughed.
“I’ve always been a busybody. But I was only nosy in my head—I didn’t talk much or join discussions. One day, when Story Sister was once again telling us a disjointed and distracted story, I quietly pulled her aside and asked, ‘Sister, are XX and XX not friends with you anymore?’”
“I could tell. They hadn’t shown up for a long time, and even when they passed by us ragtag kids, they just gave Story Sister a cold glance. The pretty girl would even snort and turn her head away arrogantly.”
“Story Sister was still young then and couldn’t hide her emotions. Her eyes turned red right away, and she said, ‘How would I know?’”
“One evening, another little girl and I saw Story Sister arguing with the other two. I remember the pretty girl’s red hair clip flashing under the streetlamp. She lifted her head high, speaking in a strong northern accent—kind of full of herself.”
“The two of us rushed up to defend our ‘goddess,’ but their conversation was way beyond our understanding.”
