: Zhaodi

Before I left for school, Mrs. Young brought my cousin to our house, acting high and mighty.

"What's the use of a girl going to school? You might as well just marry into my family. I'll give you a bride price of a full 20,000 dollars."

Everyone tried to convince my mom to marry me off, but she insisted on sending me to school.

I was away for five years, and my mom was ridiculed for all five of them.

They said my education would ultimately just benefit another family, and that after five years, I still hadn't turned into some golden phoenix.

Until I came to take my mom away.

During the New Year, I drove her back in a luxury car. My mom, dressed in designer brands and wearing a diamond ring the size of a pigeon's egg, was absolutely ecstatic.

"Isn't this diamond dazzling? My daughter bought it for me! Surely there isn't anyone who *doesn't* have a big diamond ring from their daughter? Surely not, right? Surely not?"

1

My mom's name is Jodie Shaw.

It was obvious she had always been the unloved child.

When my mom was a little girl, she was very pretty, well-behaved, and sweet.

As it happened, a couple who taught in the city wanted to adopt a daughter.

Mrs. Young and Mr. Young had originally planned to give my mom away. They could even get a good price for her.

But my mom was smart, even as a child. On the day she was supposed to be given away, she cried and screamed nonstop.

The couple couldn't console her, and growing tired of the fuss, they sent her right back.

Gritting their teeth, Mr. Young and Mrs. Young had to return a duck and 20 dollars.

"You worthless girl! You're just not fated for a good life!"

Mr. Young was seething with rage.

My mom later told me that Mr. Young had been ready to strangle her to death.

But then Mrs. Young got pregnant again.

Mr. Young said, "Don't give her away just yet. She can help take care of Timothy."

That's right, Timothy Young.

Before my Uncle Young was even born, Mr. and Mrs. Young had already asked the most educated person in the village to pick out a name for him.

They pinned all their hopes on this unborn son.

And that's how my mom survived.

Unfortunately, Mrs. Young's second pregnancy resulted in another girl.

After some further trouble, Mr. and Mrs. Young gave away my other two aunts.

Finally, four years later, Mrs. Young gave birth to my Uncle Young.

And so my mom, at a very young age, had to shoulder the burdens of the entire family.

Her first and foremost duty was to take good care of my Uncle Young.

Not only that, but she also had to work in the fields to lighten the load for Mr. and Mrs. Young.

She also had to help Mr. and Mrs. Young with their business making fried dough twists.

Because of all this, my mom had to drop out before even finishing elementary school to work on the farm.

Later, when the fried dough twist business was no longer sustainable, Mr. and Mrs. Young opened a small shop out of their home.

My mom, once again, could only stay home and help.

She had no real education; the extent of her 'higher learning' was making change at the family shop.

But my Uncle Young was different.

He was the apple of Mr. and Mrs. Young's eye. They would have given him the moon if he'd asked for it.

Mr. and Mrs. Young even had to beg him to go to school.

Although Uncle Young's grades were the worst in his class, he even had to repeat two grades in elementary school.

But Mrs. Young still believed that he was the family's great hope.

My mom was desperate to learn and would sometimes secretly look through Uncle Young's schoolbooks.

But Mrs. Young discovered her.

Mr. Young took a rope and hung my mom from the persimmon tree in the yard.

"Steal! That'll teach you to steal! How dare you touch your brother's things?!"

My mom cried until she fainted, pleading that she knew she was wrong.

Feeling she hadn't learned her lesson, Mr. and Mrs. Young left her tied up all night before finally taking her down.

My mom almost died that night.

Life went on like this.

Mr. and Mrs. Young continued to play favorites, but my mom was already satisfied.

'At least I wasn't sold off,' she thought.

: Treasured Pearl

2

When my mom was twenty, Uncle Young was sixteen.

He had dropped out of school three years prior.

Mr. Young and Mrs. Young arranged a marriage for him, but they didn't have enough money for the bride price.

The few of them put their heads together and set their sights on my mom, who had always been their workhorse.

They arranged a marriage for my mom.

The man was an old widower from the next village. He was an idle good-for-nothing, but word was he'd made a bit of money in business before.

My mom refused. She would rather stay home and serve her parents for the rest of her life.

But she wasn't given a choice. Without so much as a wedding ceremony, my mom was packed up and sent to the neighboring village.

Mr. Young and Mrs. Young took the money and immediately put my mom out of their minds, throwing a grand wedding for Uncle Young with great fanfare.

My mom tried to go home.

But even though it was the next village over, it was still dozens of miles away.

On top of that, the old widower knew what my mom was thinking and kept a tight watch on her.

My mom was married for three years and never once went back home.

In the second year, my mom got pregnant and gave birth to me.

And just like that, my mom bewilderingly became a mother.

Because I was frail, sickly, and a girl.

The old widower would beat and curse my mom and me at the slightest provocation.

In my childhood memories, I can't recall the old widower's face clearly.

But I can always see my mom, carefully shielding me, her eyes filled with an indescribable tenderness.

"Treasure Bead, Mom's right here."

My heart ached for my mom, but her heart ached for me even more.

She raised me until I was five, and then heaven finally showed some mercy.

The old widower got drunk, fell into a river, and drowned.

After my mom led me through the funeral proceedings in the village, we were driven back to Mr. and Mrs. Young's house.

"Mom, Dad, Treasure Bead and I have talked it over. We'd like to stay here."

At the time, my aunt was six months pregnant and needed someone to look after her.

My mom had worked as a nanny and done farm work, and Uncle Young was working out of town.

It was the perfect opportunity for Mrs. Young to sit back and enjoy life.

"Well, isn't that just perfect! It's for the best if you stay!"

Mrs. Young beamed, slapping her thigh.

She immediately started ordering my mom around. "Zhaodi, go make dinner."

"Scrap, hurry up and go pull some vegetables from the field for your cousin."

That's right. My name is Scrap, but I'm also called Treasure Bead.

I'm a girl.

The old widower had said that since I was going to be married off someday anyway, there was no point in giving me a proper name.

Everyone called me Scrap.

Only my mom, after coming back from the market one day, carefully unwrapped a plastic ring from three layers of wrapping and placed it in my palm.

"I see other kids like these toys. You should have what other kids have."

"My child, Mom's going to give you a name."

"Let's call you Treasure Bead. What do you think?"

I was just a little girl back then, and all I knew was that my mom was very happy.

I held the plastic ring and babbled in agreement.

"...Ma... Ma."

My mom froze for a second, then gave a smile sweeter than the candy she would secretly slip me.

: Unregistered

3

Mrs. Young's little shop had long since closed down.

My mom and I lived in the woodshed outside Mrs. Young's courtyard.

At five years old, a child can vaguely tell who likes them and who doesn't.

I could clearly feel that Mr. and Mrs. Young weren't very fond of my mom and me.

But I could see my mom smiling more and more.

It was a feeling of security, of having come home.

When my mom was happy, I was happy too, so I was willing to call them Mr. and Mrs. Young.

But they didn't treat my mom and me like people.

My mom had to get up at the crack of dawn to cook for the whole family.

After taking my cousin to school, she also had to take care of the pregnant Mrs. Young.

Of course, my mom also had to tend to the family's fields.

Going to the market to sell vegetables and fruit was also up to my mom.

Every day, my mom would go to the market full of enthusiasm and return just as enthusiastically with a gift for me.

Sometimes, she would meticulously count out how much money she'd made that day and then teach me how to use an abacus.

"Treasure Bead, you don't have to learn anything else, but you absolutely must learn this."

"Once you've learned this, you'll be able to make a lot of money."

"Really?"

I looked at Mom with adoration, and she nodded solemnly.

"Then when I make money, I'll definitely spend it on you."

Sometimes she would buy me a few candies or pastries.

But most of the time, these things would be intercepted by the sharp-eyed Mrs. Young.

Then she would give them all to my cousin to eat.

Later, my mom learned to wrap the pastries in three or four layers, tuck them inside her clothes, and bring them back to me.

I was little back then, so all I cared about was eating the pastries, which were always warm.

Sometimes she would tell me about the books she saw at the bookstore in Crestwood.

She couldn't read, but she was slowly learning.

I could see the light shining in my mom's eyes as she described these things.

She wasn't the same person she was at home.

In those moments, she was radiant.

My mom would never know.

Long before, she had already inspired her daughter with her resilience.

I asked my mom if I could go to school.

My mom froze for a moment, then her eyes instantly lit up.

"Of course, Treasure Bead! How could I have forgotten about sending you to school?"

"What I regret most is that I never even finished elementary school, so I can't teach you myself."

"But don't you worry. I'll make sure you get to go to school."

I nodded firmly.

There was only one elementary school in the village, and it wasn't very strict about age requirements.

During the busy farming season, some parents would even send their four-year-olds to school.

But my mom and I had overlooked one important problem.

I didn't have a household registration.

Back when I was born, because I was a girl, the old widower's face had immediately turned cold.

He couldn't even be bothered to give me a name, so why would he have registered my birth?

So to this day, I was still an unregistered person.

I could only audit classes; I couldn't officially enroll.

My mom was so anxious that she stopped going to the market, spending every day asking around the village how to get me registered.

Eventually, she found out that she had to take the required documents to Crestwood to get it processed.

Without a second thought, my mom rushed to Crestwood.