Volume One, Chapter Five: Truly Foolish & Playing Dumb
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As they spoke, the roommate walked into the living room.
The roommate scolded Luo Jue sharply, her tone unpleasant: "I told you not to bring friends home."
Luo Jue’s voice rose slightly: "This is my biological sister."
The roommate glanced at Luo Xuan and then back at Luo Jue. "Biological sisters? You don’t look alike at all. Luo Jue, you’re such a refined beauty..."
Luo Yu frowned, about to speak, but Luo Xuan tugged at her.
Luo Xuan brushed back some stray hairs, pointed to herself and called softly, “I haven’t fully grown into it yet.” Then, deftly, she pulled out some snacks from her bag and stuffed them into Luo Yu’s hands. “Here, try these.”
The tense atmosphere vanished without a trace, and the roommate couldn’t help but smile, her expression finally softening. “Thanks.”
...
As she was about to leave, Luo Xuan couldn’t help but whisper a reminder: “Sis, just let things go lightly. There aren’t so many rights and wrongs, or wins and losses in this world. You have to let yourself live more comfortably.”
The eldest sister excelled at everything, never tolerating any impurity, with a rigid sense of right and wrong since childhood.
“You’re like a lump of dough,” Luo Jue pushed her out the door. “Even if I poke you with a needle, you wouldn’t cry out.”
Luo Xuan snorted and grabbed her slender arm. “You need to ease your heart.”
Luo Jue reminded her, “You have to be more careful.”
...
After seeing Luo Xuan off, Luo Jue went straight back to her small, stifling room without turning on the light. She sat alone on the edge of the bed and pulled a family photo from her suitcase, staring blankly at it.
Half an hour later, her face was wet, indistinguishable whether from tears or sweat. She wiped it away, turned on the light, carefully put the family photo away, boiled some water, and made a bowl of cereal to serve as dinner.
Sitting on the bed, eating the bland cereal, she calculated the balance in her bank card and continued searching for job opportunities on her computer.
Her elbow nudged a pillow off the bed, revealing a stack of red bills wrapped in a tissue, one corner folded up to hold it firmly.
Such expertly packed money was obviously from Luo Xuan.
Luo Jue counted it—a two-thousand-yuan note.
She sighed deeply.
She had always been outstanding, tricked by Luo Wenbin to return to their hometown for work, earning just over two thousand yuan a month. With the poor economic situation, she was laid off and unemployed;
Her younger sister was both beautiful and strong-willed, but unfortunately graduated just as the subprime crisis hit, with layoffs everywhere and still no job;
And Luo Xuan—Luo Yu thought blankly—this middle sister, always overshadowed by her dazzling elder and younger sisters, had a lackluster university experience. Yet upon graduation, she caught the wave of foreign companies expanding and moved to Shanghai, earning over seven thousand yuan a month.
It was fate and timing.
Luo Jue sent a text to Luo Xuan: “Consider it a loan from me.”
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Her phone lit up, and Luo Yu smiled wryly.
Luo Xuan replied succinctly with four words:
“Such a long-winded fuss.”
...
After reading her eldest sister’s message, Luo Xuan’s younger sister called again.
Luo Qi said, “Uncle managed to book a crematorium slot for 3 a.m. Where are you now?”
Having just talked with her eldest sister, Luo Xuan couldn’t help but be suspicious. Her younger sister’s casual remark now carried another meaning: “I’m almost at Luosang County—did you already know eldest sister wouldn’t come back with me?”
Luo Qi on the other end said, “Of course she won’t come home.”
Luo Xuan looked irritably out at the dark window. “I didn’t know. I can’t believe she’s so resolute.”
Luo Qi responded coldly, “What do you know? When have you ever cared about us?”
Their father’s sudden death seemed to have pulled back a blanket, revealing sharp stones hidden beneath.
Luo Xuan, finally taking a rare vacation, had stayed awake for more than twenty hours, driving back and forth exhausted and upset, and finally snapped:
“Do you need me to care? Dad cared for eldest sister, Mom fussed over you—who would think of me? I can barely look after myself, why should I care for others?”
Luo Qi simply replied, “You know nothing.”
Luo Xuan was left speechless.
Her younger sister continued, “I bought you coffee; it’s in the glove compartment. Drive safely at night.”
After saying this, she hung up.
Luo Xuan slammed open the glove compartment, grabbed the coffee, and downed half the bottle before calling back immediately.
After two rings, her younger sister answered, and Luo Xuan said instantly: “Since childhood, we all know how Mom and Dad treated you and eldest sister, and how they treated me. I’ve been regularly sending things to Mom and Dad, thinking I’ve done enough. What else do you want? Do you think I’m some kind of mud Buddha model?”
Luo Qi replied with biting sarcasm: “Yes, you’ve done plenty. You didn’t contribute money for the house back home because the money is tied up in property and invisible. You only bought gold for Mom, so visiting relatives can see clearly. The water heater’s been broken for years, yet you bought a dishwasher—a rare luxury that makes everyone ask questions and praise you. Every Sunday afternoon, you call punctually, speaking sweetly, but you only come home at New Year’s. When you do, you just give money. You don’t see or care about the household affairs, waiting for us to argue and manage everything, then you reap the benefits.”
Luo Xuan was momentarily speechless.
These were the facts, but hearing them all from her younger sister’s mouth felt so different.
Her anger flared: “What do you mean I only pick up the leftovers?”
Her younger sister replied coldly, “See? You’re pretending to be naive again. You’re the best at pretending.”
Eldest sister said she was truly naive; younger sister said she was pretending. Was she really naive or not?
Luo Xuan was so angry she didn’t know what to say.
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Her younger sister’s voice struck firmly: “You know nothing.”
Then she hung up.
Luo Xuan called back, but her sister didn’t answer and hung up again.
What did she not know? Not know what—
Luo Xuan’s head began to throb. She rolled down the window, slammed her foot on the accelerator, the night wind roaring against her face, but it couldn’t blow away the heavy cloud in her chest.
The glove compartment on the passenger side was still open. With her sharp acceleration, something flew out and landed on her foot.
Distracted, Luo Xuan glanced down—it was a pack of local spicy strips, the brand she loved as a child. Clearly, her younger sister had put it there.
Her older sister had a weak stomach, her younger sister worried about acne; no one else in the family ate these.
Unfortunately, after so many years, her tastes had long since changed.
The family had three girls; the elders refused to help, and Lin Zhaodi couldn’t manage alone. The eldest was frail, the youngest was small, both needing family care. Only the middle sister, Luo Xuan, was free of worries and was sent to boarding school early on, coming home only during holidays.
Thus, she boarded at school from elementary days, going home only for summer and winter breaks, where she helped at the factory.
Her local school had a strong swimming culture, and Luo Xuan was selected early for the swim team. The benefit was that besides studying, she could travel for competitions, with tuition waived and prize money earned; the downside was a forced diet control for nine years, cutting out snacks and losing the freedom to indulge.
This formed her eating habits in adolescence, which had not changed.
Luo Xuan pushed the spicy strips aside and checked the time—1 a.m.
Her father would be cremated in two hours, and she couldn’t afford to quarrel with her biological sister now.
The past was past; regrets could not be undone, and dredging up old grievances was pointless.
What good was recalling the past? It only trapped her in self-pity.
Luo Xuan didn’t want to be like her eldest sister, wasting herself over something intangible; nor like her younger sister, unwilling to be muddled, endlessly worrying and scolding, then worrying again after scolding.
Even if she wore herself out, who would truly care?
Those who are deeply loved punish others by hurting themselves. Those unloved must learn to love themselves.
Luo Xuan quietly made up her mind. To protect herself, the best way was not to argue over right or wrong, but to separate—far away, completely separate, to neither think of, care for, nor meet them.
Once her father’s affairs were settled, she would return to Shanghai.
At a red light, she bent down, picked up the spicy strips, and tossed them back into the glove compartment.