Chapter 10

A piece of my heart had been hollowed out.

No matter what I did, I couldn’t fill it.

After Shasha left, I went back to being alone.

It was as if I was possessed.

Every day, apart from eating and sleeping, I just studied.

Little kids are always sleepy, and I was no exception.

Back then, I couldn’t afford coffee.

So besides drinking strong tea, I kept an embroidery needle at hand.

Whenever I was unbearably drowsy, I’d jab my thigh with it.

I used to be too timid to ask teachers questions.

Now, I didn’t care if they thought I was stupid or slow-I’d go and ask, thick-skinned as I was.

Fortunately, most of the teachers were actually pretty nice.

They would patiently answer my questions.

But I missed Shasha so much.

When I rode my bike to school alone, when I recited vocabulary over and over.

When I reviewed biology and got to the section about boys and girls, when I saw the stinky tofu and fried dough stalls at the school gate…

I wondered if she was doing well, wherever she was.

I wondered if she ever thought of me too.

Soon, it was New Year.

Normally, people who worked away from home would come back.

But Shasha didn’t.

Aunt Zhao stood at the entrance of the village, cursing: “Heartless little wretch, I found her such a good match, the other side was willing to pay sixty thousand yuan for the bride price, and she actually ran away in secret.”

“Picked-up wild child, can’t be raised right, wasted all these years of my food.”

After working at the factory for a few months, Shasha gained her uncle’s trust.

She took advantage of the chaos at the train station during the holiday return rush and escaped from their clutches.

Good for her.

I was happy for her.

But if she never came back, it was likely we’d never have the chance to meet again.

Still, I kept my promise to her and studied hard.

At the end of the second year, I ranked tenth in my class.

My brother was living at school then, coming home about once a month.

Every time he came back, he needed a lot of money.

He said it was for extra classes, test papers, and so on.

Mom and Dad found it tough, but as long as he asked, they always gave him the full amount.

My brother had changed a bit.

He wore the trendy white shirt and flared pants, and had secretly pierced his ear.

But his report card was excellent-over fifty in the grade.

If he kept it up, getting into a 211 university wouldn’t be a problem.

Compared to him, my tenth place in class was really nothing.

At the start of the third year, I received a letter from Shasha.

She said she was working at a clothing store, earning commission from selling clothes, and could support herself just fine.

She gave me her QQ number in the letter, and told me not to mention her to Uncle Zhao or Aunt Zhao.

At the end of the letter, she reminded me:

[Xiaoxia, you must study hard, don’t ever give up.

I want to visit a university someday, and I want you to be my guide.]

God knows how excited I was to get that letter.

I treasured it, locked it away in my drawer.

But that day when I went back to my room, I found Mom holding the letter.

Her tone was heavy: “Shasha contacted you?”

My heart leapt into my throat.

I rushed over, snatched the letter, and yelled, “Why are you rummaging through my drawer? Why are you looking at my stuff?”

Mom snorted, “She doesn’t contact her own parents, but she still remembers to write to you.”

I panicked, “Don’t tell Uncle Zhao or Aunt Zhao.”

Mom got angry too, “I’m your mother, and this is how you talk to me?”

In a couple of days, it was the weekend.

My brother was home too.

But Mom said he was busy with senior year and needed to rest during the rare holiday.

She wanted me to help her dig sweet potatoes.

We happened to run into Aunt Zhao in the field, and she started cursing about Shasha running away again.

“Heartless little bitch, best if she just died out there.”

Mom smiled faintly, “Shasha’s doing just fine out there.”

Aunt Zhao looked over suspiciously, “How do you know she’s doing fine?”

“Did she contact your Xiaoxia?”