Chapter Three: There Is a Younger Sister at Home Named Yan Yan

Fate truly has its own way of balancing things—someone like me, who has always dreaded trouble, ended up becoming the monitor of the class that promises the most trouble. If it hadn’t been for my concern that Liu Xiaojie, new to the class, might find herself in an awkward situation, I’d never have stepped forward, never attracted attention, and never found myself saddled with the role of class monitor.

Fortunately, I’m an optimist by nature. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that being class monitor meant more time and more opportunities to spend around Liu Xiaojie. That alone lifted my spirits.

Our textbooks hadn’t even been distributed yet when we started our first big classroom clean-up right after registration that morning. I have to admit, the beautiful new teacher was really competent—her arrangements were thorough and efficient. Before long, the corridors and classrooms, dusty from an entire holiday, were sparkling clean.

When we finished early and were allowed to leave for the day, other classes were still only halfway done with their cleaning.

“Monitor, stay behind a moment. The rest of you can leave.” I was just pondering what to have for lunch when Liu Xiaojie called me back.

“Teac—” I almost called her “Miss,” catching myself in the nick of time. “Teacher, is there something you need?”

“Miss Teacher? Do I really look that short?” Liu Xiaojie eyed me with an amused look.

I waved my hands hastily. “Not at all, not at all. You’re so young and beautiful, Teacher, that if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were my age.”

Judging by her height, she was about one meter sixty-five, maybe taller in heels. With her shapely figure—curves in all the right places yet never looking plump—she really was a sight to behold.

She nodded and continued, “So, any thoughts on forming the class committee group?”

Her words made it clear: she was worried I’d be clueless and embarrass myself if I didn’t get a heads-up.

“No worries, Teacher. Just give me half an hour this afternoon and I’ll have it done.”

She fixed me with a steady gaze for a few seconds, then said, “Alright, since you’re so confident, I’ll leave it all to you. Now, you’d better hurry home and eat.”

“Yes, Miss Liu. You should eat too. Goodbye.” With a polite farewell, I left for home.

Much as I liked this young teacher, clinging to her all the time would only annoy her.

“Son, you’re home! How’s the new school? What’s the teacher like? Are you getting along with your classmates?” I’d barely stepped through the door before my mother’s barrage of questions began.

“Don’t worry, Mom. The school’s great, the teacher is very nice, and though I haven’t gotten to know my classmates well yet, they all seem fine.”

She nodded, finally satisfied. “You must be hungry. Lunch is ready—braised rabbit.”

“Wow, Mom, you’re so cruel! Rabbits are so cute—how could you bear to eat them? I’ll have three big bowls!” For me, rabbit had always been a dish on the table since I was little, though lately, rabbits seemed to have joined cats and dogs as family pets.

I admit, rabbits are adorable when they hop about, but they’re also delicious—especially braised, tender, and so flavorful you can’t stop eating.

“By the way, Mom, where’s Dad? Isn’t he home from work yet?” I glanced at the clock; it was already half past twelve.

She smiled, pulled out a chair, and sat down. “No need to wait for him. He said he’s having lunch with a client today and won’t be back.”

“Oh? Did you ask if the client is a woman? Is she pretty?” I grinned mischievously.

“Brat.” She waved a fist, cheeks tinged with red. Clearly, she’d asked.

Knock, knock, knock!

“Open up! Open the door!” A clear, girlish voice called out, though her frantic tone ruined its sweetness.

“Yu, go let your sister in,” my mother said, eyes glued to the TV as she ate, making it clear she had no intention of getting up.

“Coming, coming.” I sighed and got up to open the door.

A whirlwind swept past me, heading straight for the table, where she gulped down all my water in one go, then collapsed on the sofa.

“I’m exhausted, can’t move another inch. Xiao Yu, come give me a back rub.”

This whirlwind was my sister, Yan Yan—a name that suited her perfectly. Heaven had given her a face so beautiful it made others envious, and a temper just as fiery, probably because she was spoiled.

Dad always said, “Raise sons simply, daughters lavishly.” So even at sixteen, my pocket money was only half of my eleven-year-old sister’s. On top of that, she was stingy, hoarding her money in a piggy bank and squeezing mine dry. So many years of this—it’s a tale of woe.

With a sigh, I closed the door.

“You barged in with your shoes on again! Look at the floor—are you going to clean it?” I ruffled her hair in mock annoyance.

“I’m not listening, I’m not listening! You take them off for me,” Yan Yan said, covering her ears and wiggling her feet.

“Keep acting like a little princess and see who wants you when you grow up.” Despite my words, I bent down to take off her shoes and put them by the door.

“Hmph, I was born beautiful—plenty of boys are already smitten.” She muttered in feigned indignation.

Her precocious words made both my mother and me laugh.

“Alright, alright, our Yan Yan is the prettiest. There’ll be no shortage of admirers. Hungry? I’ll get you some rice,” my mother said.

“I’m starving! Mom, you’re the best. Mean brother—you never care about your sister,” Yan Yan pouted, rubbing her stomach and shooting me a glare.

“You have hands, don’t you?” I said, settling back into my chair to tackle my rabbit stew.

“What is this meat? It’s so tasty!” Yan Yan was practically inhaling the rice and rabbit.

I watched my adorable sister devour the rabbit, grinning.

“Yan Yan, why are you eating that? I made you a separate dish.” My mother walked out from the kitchen, shocked to see Yan Yan wolfing down rabbit meat.

“Hmph! Am I not your real daughter? You’re all eating meat while I get stuck with vegetables?” Yan Yan glanced at the meat in the bowl, then at the plate of cabbage with just a few scraps of meat that my mother was holding, her sense of injustice obvious.

“Didn’t you say you wouldn’t eat rabbit? I made you a special dish,” my mother explained, placing the plate on the table and sitting down.

Crack.

It was as if thunder had struck on a clear day.

I watched as my adorable sister’s chopsticks froze mid-air, and her mouth, mid-chew, stopped moving altogether.

“This is… rabbit meat?” Yan Yan asked in disbelief.

My mother nodded. “Of course. Didn’t your brother tell you? I even reminded him to let you know.”

“I’m full.” Sensing the shift in atmosphere, I put down my chopsticks and beat a hasty retreat to my room.

“Yan—Ru—Yu!” Yan Yan dropped her chopsticks and came after me in hot pursuit.

Luckily, I was quick, locking myself in my room just in time.

“Phew, that was close.”

I flopped onto my bed. I hadn’t eaten my fill, but my stomach was about seventy percent satisfied. As the old saying goes, you should eat until you’re only seventy percent full.

I smacked my lips; rabbit meat was just too delicious. I still wanted more, but there was none left for me.

“Open up!”

Bang, bang, bang.

“You think I’m stupid?” No way I was opening that door. Don’t let her age fool you—she might only be eleven, but she could be ruthless. I’d lost count of how many times she’d pinched my waist black and blue.

“Open up, now!” Yan Yan shouted furiously from the other side.

“Not even if you kill me!” I retorted. Opening the door now would be asking for trouble.