I did resist, but the result was the same. I was told my sister had a lot of academic pressure. As the elder sister, I should give in more.

"Linda graduated from sixth grade and ranked first in her class again. Teachers all say she is a good student. We will do whatever it takes to support Linda's education."

My mom held Linda's hand as she couldn't bear to let go.

...

Linda smiled and flattered, saying, "Aunt, you are becoming more and more beautiful. Thank you, Aunt. I will study hard. If I can get into a college, I will take good care of my parents, you, and my uncle. I will buy lots of delicious food for Dotty."

“Thank you, sister.”

My little cousin, who couldn't speak clearly, nestled in my aunt's arms. He was young and adorable.

"Come on. If Linda can be admitted into a high school, I can afford the tuition. Linda, keep it up."

My aunt touched Linda's head.

In my impression, my aunt was beautiful, wearing a new style windbreaker that rural people had never seen. The clothes that my mother wore that my aunt didn't want could become the talk of the village for a long time.

My sister, Linda, was naturally liked by family members. I could only stand silently aside.

My sister was more likable. She was smarter. This time, I would never give up the opportunity to go to high school and change my destiny.

"My twelve-year-old sister needs to go to school, and I, who is fourteen, don't need to?"

"This child is ungrateful. She is too lazy to do anything except manual work. She can't get good grades despite studying all day long. I don't know which family she will marry in the future. Girls are easy to deal with."

I had heard a lot of such words. In my previous life, I was trapped, but in this life, I must live my own life.

I gathered the courage to speak out my thoughts.

"Mom, I don't want to go to a vocational school. I want to go to a high school."

The room suddenly became quiet.

My dad walked in and happened to hear my words.

...

He coughed heavily and spat out saliva, saying sternly, "Siena, it's not that we are biased. It's just that you are not cut out for studying. Do as I say. I will find a good marriage for you. Your dowry and everything will be prepared for you. Then you will have someone to rely on in the future."

My mom grabbed my hand.

She said, "Siena, education for high school is too expensive. Our family can't afford to support two students. Your sister is good at studying. Don't you want to let her go to school? Mom and Dad care about you both. We care about you both, Siena."

"That's how it is, that's how it is."

"Under the guise of family affection, they claim they care about us both, which is not the truth."

"I was too soft-hearted. Whenever my parents acted pitiful, I let go of all my grievances."

"But am I not sad?"

"I am never favored."

"I thought that it was pretentious to criticize them for their bias and favoritism."

"But it hurts. belittling, and the suffering in my previous life is all real."

"The one who stops you from making progress may not be a stranger, but the one who can stop you from being better is from your family."

"Mom, Dad, my grades were indeed not good before, but I want to live at school for the last year and strive to get into a high school."

"Siena, Auntie thinks you can go to a vocational school, which is easier for you."

I interrupted her.

"Auntie, don't worry, I won't let you pay for my tuition."

"Kid, how can you let Auntie pay for your education? How can you talk like that?"

My mother scolded me. My aunt couldn't bear the embarrassment. She said a greeting and left.

"We can't support you, a high school student. You can go wherever you want. We, as parents, can't control you anymore, right? Let me be clear. We don't have the money for your accommodation. Figure it out yourself."

So, this was the result of my rebellion. Suddenly, I didn't feel sad anymore.

In my previous life, I was indeed just a simple fourteen-year-old. If I hadn't been reborn, I would have voluntarily chosen to go to a vocational school amid my parents' persuasion and coercion.

It had nothing to do with my parents at all. It was my fault. After all, I was stupid.

I walked outside. It was cold in autumn. I wrapped my clothes tightly.

In the village, the lights were on in dozens of households. The aroma of food drifted into my nose.

I swallowed my saliva and looked in through the window.

There was delicious food. Occasionally, the laughter of joy rang out.

There was no portion for me.

"Siena?"

I subconsciously turned around and saw Mr. Smith standing in front of the village, carrying a piece of steak.

"Hello, Mr. Smith!"

I turned around awkwardly and stood there, rubbing my fingers.

"Have you eaten? If not, eat with me. I just bought some meat."

Mr. Smith didn't ask me any other questions.

It was my first time going to Mr. Smith's house.

There was a bed, a shelf with a washbasin, and a set of tables and chairs.

What shocked me the most was a wall full of books.

"Feel free to sit. You don't have to be restrained during break time. I'll go cook outside first. You can kill time here by reading a few books."

I obediently complied and carefully took out a book from the bookshelf.

It was a biography.

I opened the book,

[Only real suffering can offset the romantic fantasy of suffering.]

[Only by seeing the tragic tragedy of overcoming suffering can we help us bear cruel fate.]

[Only with the spirit of 'if I don't go to hell, who will go to hell' can we save a weak and selfish nation.]

[Beethoven: I am willing to prove that anyone who behaves kindly and nobly can bear hardships because of it.]

[He wants to strangle the throat of fate, and it can never make him surrender.]

[Strive to do good, love freedom above all, and never sell the truth even for the throne.]

I liked this book, and the suffering I had suffered seemed to have paid off in this book.

For most people's lives, it was something that seemed unattainable.

The sky darkened. Mr. Smith was sitting on the bed, reading.

The steak was warming on the stove. I started eating.

The steak was delicious with strong and fragrant pepper sauce.

After devouring the steak, I suddenly realized that I should go home.

"Did you finish the reading?"

"Yes."

Mr. Smith picked up the utensils and put them in the sink.

After staying here for such a long time, I calmed down and considered my life direction.

"I want to go to a high school, but I may not be able to. Even if I can, my family may not support me."

Mr. Smith smiled and patted my head.

"Silly girl, don't think too much. You can't decide whether they will support you or not now, but you can decide by yourself."

"Whether you can go to a high school or not, it is up to you."

"People should never worry about things that they can't control."

04

Mr. Smith sent me home.

My mom was sitting on the armchair, knitting gloves. When she saw me come in, she snorted.

"You have such a bad temper. Now you've run away from home. If you have the guts, don't come back. I've provided for you and raised you, only to have you turn into an ungrateful person. I can no longer count on you in my lifetime."

My dad coughed for a while.

"Daughters are not as useful as sons. In the future, we can't rely on this foolish and short-sighted person to take care of us in our old age. We still have to rely on Linda, who is much more successful than my son."

My aunt insidiously instigated on the side, her eyes rolling with sarcasm.

My mother blushed and remained silent.

In her mind, daughters were not as good as sons.

No matter how capable her daughters were, she had to consider other people's opinions.

No matter how successful her daughter was said to be, she had to bear the sarcastic remarks about her inability to have a son.

I was afraid of her back then, as whenever she was here, there were no good days in our family.

My father rarely hit people. He just drank.

When he got drunk, his eyes turned red, and he started cursing. All kinds of offensive and dirty words would come out of his mouth.

Having a son was important. After my mother gave birth to me, she didn't recover well from the confinement, and she couldn't get pregnant again.

If my aunt's family came, bringing his little nephew, he would become particularly irritable and instigated.

He would hit people. He was the ruler at home and a good man outside.

I moved closer to him and asked tentatively, "Dad, I want to go to live in the dormitory and continue my education. I want to give it a try in my last year. Per Mr. Smith, I have the potential to go to a high school."

He extended his withered hand and lit another cigarette.

He took a deep drag and blew out a large smoke ring as if he were exhaling all the resentment in his heart.

"Siena, boarding costs 50 dollars. We don't have the extra money at home. Besides, you are not cut out for it. Your younger sister will need more money when she goes to study in the town."

He spoke with an unquestionable tone, uttering words that hurt me.

I took a step back, knelt, and pleaded with my father.

He turned his head to look at the flames flickering on the stove.

I suddenly realized the gap between fate and effort.

"I relive my life. If I can change my life, it's because of my efforts. If I can't, it's fate."

The flame on the stove ruined my life.

"If I can't get into high school, I will marry Jack in the village. If I can, will you let me go?"

My words touched them.

Jack was rich, with a lot of land at home. He had a pockmarked face, and he was a fool.

At that time, no one wanted to earn his dowry money.

A man with a pockmarked face was easy to deal with. Because of his wealth, many girls were willing to marry him to enjoy a good life. But it was different for a fool.

It would be deadly.

Men in my village all hit their wives.

Beating women was commonly seen here. A man who didn't beat his wife was looked down upon. But they couldn't beat their wives badly. After all, they would bear their children. If they beat them up badly, they will lose the dowry money. If they didn't beat them, they would also lose the dowry money.

But a fool hit someone without a sense of propriety. If he accidentally killed someone, he wouldn't be held responsible.

Finally, I went to school.

In the cold winter, I would stand at the door and start reciting the text at 4 a.m.

I shivered and rubbed my hands to keep warm, while loudly reciting English with a strong accent.

For physics formulas that I couldn't remember, I would copy them ten times, and for chemical formulas, I would write them a hundred times.

I would hand write a book of English texts, which was to recite the possible hidden original text inside.

At night, under the starry sky and moonlight, I would lie on my bed.

I studied step by step,

I was serious.

I recited every note of Mr. Smith's blackboard writing in every class.

If I couldn't remember them, I would pinch myself hard to make myself remember them relying on my body instinct and pain.

I went to block teachers and shamelessly asked them repeatedly about a small piece of knowledge.

I disregarded fury, discrimination, and the ridicule of people around me. They said I was after Mr. Smiths.

I ignored them.

Hard work would be rewarded. I wouldn't surrender to the unfair fate.

If others could get it well once, I could be better by ten times, and I could be better than others.

The morning light gradually rose in the sky. There was a hint of warmth.

I was always the first one to arrive in the classroom when Mr. Smith opened the door.

He watched me work hard bit by bit, become outstanding bit by bit, and finally rank first.

On the podium, he passionately encouraged us with powerful and inspiring words.

He said, "Come on, classmates, this is your own choice. Stick to it and don't regret it."

He said, "Try a little harder, the only way out is to study. Only you can get out of the mountains that generations before couldn't."

But it was useless. Before the high school entrance exam, girls left one after another.