Chapter 39: The Sword That Remains Unable to Fall (Part Nine)

Uncle left behind a sum of money.

The doctor said that Uncle had willingly given up on treatment.

By the time I took little Yaoxi to the hospital, Uncle was already gone.

After crying herself tired, little Yaoxi collapsed on my shoulder and fell asleep. I carried her back home.

The ceremony ended hastily. Not many friends or relatives showed up. The few relatives who did were red-faced, arguing over custody of Xixi, and even glared at me fiercely, demanding to know if I had the money.

I clutched the Bank Card, my palm slick with sweat.

Were these Adults really fighting so fiercely over custody out of goodwill for Xixi?

I brought little Yaoxi back home again. Thankfully, we still had a Home. Even if those relatives followed us and knocked on the door, we simply didn’t open it. What could they do about it?

In the cold and empty Room, little Yaoxi stood there, so small, her tears streaming down nonstop. After a while, she ran to Uncle’s Room and said, “This is Daddy’s favorite PSP, and Daddy’s absolute favorite Fishing Rod, and Daddy’s Account Book. Daddy even used to secretly draw in it! Brother, come look!”

I ran over to look with little Yaoxi.

The Account Book had crooked drawings of Stick Figures, some wielding Swords, fighting each other.

As we looked, we both started to laugh.

Then we cried again.

I didn’t cry as hard—not because I wasn’t sad, but because I was a year older than her.

I was her brother.

When little Yaoxi finally cried herself tired and fell asleep in Uncle’s Room, I tucked her in, leaned on the desk and got lost in thought. Unknowingly, the night passed and it was dawn.

I clumsily put on an Apron like Uncle used to, went to the Kitchen, and stared at the countless condiments, not sure where to start.

There was leftover rice from yesterday in the pot. I thought, making Egg Fried Rice shouldn’t be hard, right? After stir-frying the rice, I’d make two Fried Eggs and pour a glass of Milk. That should count as a “decent” Breakfast.

I heard Xixi’s footsteps. She ran while shouting, “Lin Mo… Brother! Brother Lin Mo!”

From the Kitchen, I mimicked Uncle’s loud voice, “Go wash your hands, get ready to eat, you still have school later.”

At the dining table, staring at the burnt Egg Pocket, my sister and I were both a bit stunned. We thought to at least try the Egg Fried Rice. One bite—so salty I nearly choked. I was just glad the Milk was ready-made, or we wouldn’t have had any normal food that day.

Even so, little Yaoxi forced herself to eat, saying as she did, “Brother, did Daddy really leave us…?”

I couldn’t speak, as if something was stuck in my throat. My sister’s tears fell onto the Egg Fried Rice, making it even saltier, but she still ate in tiny bites.

That day, I gave up the thought of leaving. My cooking got better by the day. From inedible, to barely passable, to eventually little Yaoxi asking at every mealtime, “Brother, is dinner ready yet?”

“Almost, almost, don’t rush me. How about you cook instead?”

Usually at this, my sister would just pretend to be mute.

During this time, I learned many things—helping my sister lay out her Clothes for the next day, tying her hair, feeding her Medicine when she was sick, and so on.

Gradually, little Yaoxi was no longer as insecure as she used to be. A few months later, though she still sometimes stared blankly at a corner of the Room, she seemed to be in pretty good spirits overall.

Except for one thing a few days ago, which made her cry for a long time, until she fell asleep exhausted in my Room.

Those damned relatives still refused to give up. Even though Xixi had clearly refused their custody, they’d still go to the school every so often to cause a scene. That night, after Xixi and I had finished our homework and were about to sleep, the door suddenly thundered with knocks for over half an hour, with all sorts of nasty curses shouted outside.

“Brother… I’m scared…”

Xixi ran to my Room. The two of us huddled together. To be honest, I was scared too. After all, I wasn’t even ten yet. But I couldn’t show it. I tried to act calm: “It’s fine. Just ignore him, he’ll go away after a while.”

After more than half an hour, the noise finally stopped. I told my sister to stay put while I went to check if they’d left.

I tiptoed quietly, peered out the peephole, and instantly felt my scalp go numb—I saw an eye staring back at me.

Returning to the Room, my sister asked weakly, “Brother, is he gone?”

“Mm… it’s fine now.”

“Brother, can I sleep in your Room tonight?”

And so, the two of us muddled through a year like this. The knocking became less frequent, but since the relatives kept making scenes at school, everyone knew we were kids without Adult supervision.

It was easier for me, being a boy, but Xixi was different. I often got into fights. Over time, no one dared to bully Xixi, and I became the Problem Child that the Principal both loved and hated.

Every time I finished a fight and we got home from school, Xixi would finish her homework and climb onto my bed, acting like a victorious general, as if she was the one who’d fought. Still, she’d say proudly, “With my brother here! Let’s see who dares bully me!”

“Brother, Xixi wants to sleep together.”

Then came the Middle School Entrance Exam.

Xixi cried her nose red because I was moving up to middle school. I had always been first in our grade, so the Principal hoped I would go to the best middle school. They offered to arrange everything, but I refused, picking a random school nearby and telling them it was because it was close to Home.

That day, I handed her an Orange Soda and told her that my school was only a street away from hers—just a few hundred meters—and I could still pick her up like before. She was overjoyed: “Brother, can you carry me? My feet hurt.”

Following the belief that it’s better to strike first to avoid being struck later, that year, whenever someone made me uncomfortable—even the Street Thugs hanging around the school gate—if they messed with me, I never talked much. I wouldn’t stop until they were on their knees.

Gradually, when people saw me, the Delinquents at the school gate would offer me cigarettes. I didn’t smoke, so I told them to study hard, or they wouldn’t even be able to afford cigarettes after leaving school.

Bit by bit, those idle folks stopped hanging around our school gates, maybe fearing they wouldn’t be able to buy cigarettes when they grew up.

When Xixi moved up to middle school, no one dared bother her—everyone knew she was both the top student and the School Bully’s sister. She became a real School Princess.

As for grades, while not as freakish as Lin Mo’s, hers were still near the top.

I tried my best to play the “good brother” role. Together, muddled and half-awake, we grew up. Looking back, it’s a miracle we managed not to starve. I handled most things my own way, often causing trouble—like when the Pipe at Home broke, water flooded everywhere, and after school, my sister and I looked at the Water Curtain Cave helplessly. I told her to sit on the small stool by the door and do her homework, and experienced firsthand how hard it was to be an Adult.

After hours, we finally cleaned up the water, only to have to cook again. As soon as I entered the Kitchen and hadn’t even put on the Apron, my sister yelled, “Brother! It’s leaking again!”

I followed the Pipe upwards and realized it was because the upstairs neighbors were using water. If the Pipe was broken, every time they used water, our place would leak. Just cleaning the floor was pointless.

Things like that happened a lot.

Even now, there are still things I can’t handle right away. I try to deal with them in my own way. I don’t know what kind of girl little Yaoxi would have become if Uncle were still around, but I once made a promise to the Transformers, Optimus Prime and Megatron, sitting in the Room—I would never let anyone bully her.

But recently, something happened that I don’t know how to handle.

I don’t know when it started, but a Rumor began circulating at school—that little Yaoxi and I weren’t actually siblings.

Even though the Rumor was true, it still made me uncomfortable.

So, I found the person who first spread it. Under my “friendly” threats, as soon as the first person talked, I traced it all the way up, determined to find out who started it.

I was going to teach that person a lesson.

But when a girl, as lovely as a School Princess, stood before me, I didn’t even hear the greetings from her female classmates beside her.

“Yaoxi, was it you who started the rumor…?”

“Yup, brother. Is that not allowed?”

That was the third time I realized—I didn’t belong here.