The Choice That Determines Fate Is Controlled by the Mother

The day my twin sister received an invitation to study abroad, my mother personally tore my Crestwood College admission letter into pieces.

Just because when we were six years old, my father decided to heavily invest in cultivating a successful daughter to bring honor to the family.

The other daughter was to be raised casually, marry early, and demand a hefty dowry for their old age.

The partial mother proposed a draw, saying our choices were all up to fate.

My sister held the pre-selected sign in her hand, pretending to let me draw first.

They talked about fairness while giving all their favoritism to my sister.

All that was left for me was neglect and beatings, and endless brainwashing about womanly virtues.

Unfortunately, my life is up to me, not fate, and I will have everything I want.

Ten years later, my father, looking at my sister who was self-destructive and pregnant before marriage, cried and begged me to do well in the college entrance examination.

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"Lana, Eva, come here and draw a sign."

My mother held two slips of paper in her hand, kindly signaling for my sister and me to pick one from her hand.

I was actually reborn on the day we drew lots at six years old.

In my previous life, I didn't know that these two small pieces of paper predicted two completely opposite lives.

My sister had just come back from outside, half of her bun was loose, and her princess dress was dirty with mud all over her hands.

"Lana, your mother just combed your hair and you messed it up again. You're still like a little madwoman at your age, without half of your sister's ladylike demeanor."

My father frowned and dragged my sister into the bathroom to wash her hands.

I straightened my crumpled T-shirt, closed the nearly worn-out "To Live" in my hand, and asked curiously, "Mom, what kind of sign is this, and why do we have to draw it?"

My mother's eyes were mixed with pity, and her words were somewhat evasive, "You don't need to worry about these, just draw any sign."

My sister, swinging her freshly washed little hands, smiled cutely, "My sister is older than me. Let's respect the order of age. Let my sister draw first."

This scene was familiar, it was the same in my previous life, my sister let me draw first.

I thought it was just a little game.

I chose the left one by feeling, and it was a simple drawing of a house.

My sister naturally took the right slip of paper, which had a symbol of money.

The house in the drawing was not luxurious but a cage.

I was trapped in it, unable to escape for the rest of my life.

First, my place in the youth class was replaced by my sister.

Then I was violated by the school bullies and got pregnant.

My sister told on me and exposed my pregnancy.

I was deprived of the right to go to college, confined at home preparing for marriage.

The money in the drawing was not a simple symbol but real gold and silver.

In order to cultivate my sister into a talent, my parents created the best learning conditions for her.

First, they tried their best to send her to the youth class.

After she failed too many subjects and was expelled from the youth class.

She was sent to the best high school in the city.

She barely managed to get into a junior college in the college entrance examination.

For the sake of face, they spent 500,000 to buy a "ticket" for studying abroad for my sister.

The day my sister went abroad, I accidentally overheard my parents chatting.

It turned out that when we were six years old, my father made a decision.

Heavily cultivate a successful daughter to bring honor to the family.

The other one was raised casually, married early, and demanded a hefty dowry for their old age.

They wanted both face and substance.

It was my mother who proposed that we draw lots.

Because it was fair this way.

Now, there are two slips of paper in front of me again.

I clearly know the result of choosing the left one.

I hesitated, I wanted to fulfill those regrets in this life, but I couldn't bear to let my sister experience my previous life.

Facing my parents' urgent urging and my sister's expectant eyes, I hesitated to speak.

"We should respect the old and love the young, right? Let my sister choose first."