After the family split up, my stepmother and scumbag father begged me to come home.

Lin Qianqian was on the mountain, bending over and looking for wild vegetables.

There aren't many wild vegetables left in late spring; the good ones have long been dug up, and what's left are just old stalks and bitter leaves.

She squatted on the ground, picking the wild vegetables one by one and putting them into her basket. If she couldn't fill the basket, she would get a beating when she got home.

She wasn't afraid of being beaten.

She's tough; she can withstand a few hits.

But she was afraid that Ah Long would get beaten up.

Ah Long is only nine years old, too young, he can't handle it.

The sun was starting to set a little further west, and she walked a bit more up the mountain.

The basket wasn't full yet, and she was getting anxious; beads of sweat rolled down her forehead.

"Sister Qianqian! Sister Qianqian! Where are you?!"

Someone called her name.

Lin Qianqian straightened up, turned around, and saw that it was Xiao Hu from Aunt Ding's house next door, who was running out of breath.

"Sister Qianqian, hurry, hurry back—your stepmother is going to beat Ah Long to death!"

Lin Qianqian dropped the basket in her hand, scattering wild vegetables all over the ground.

She didn't even bother to pick them up; she took off running down the mountain.

The thirteen-year-old girl was so thin she was practically skin and bones, but she ran like a madwoman.

She didn't feel the pain of the pebbles on the mountain path hurting her feet; she didn't feel the pain of the thorns tearing her trouser legs.

There was only one thought in my mind: Ah Long, Ah Long can't be hurt.

When she rushed to the big tree at the village entrance, she saw her younger brother curled up on the ground, and Ding Yuxiang was kicking him.

"stop!"

Feeling unsatisfied, Ding Yuxiang picked up a large rock from the side and was about to smash it against Lin Yulong.

Xiao Hu called out "Ah Long," but it was too late.

Lin Qianqian steeled herself and pounced on her younger brother, lying on top of him.

The stone came crashing down with a whoosh and hit the back of her head.

"sister--!"

Lin Yulong's voice was heart-wrenching.

Lin Qianqian's vision went black as warm liquid flowed down her hair.

She tried to say something, opened her mouth, but only a muffled sound came out of her throat before she went limp.

"Sis...Sis, what's wrong...Sis, don't scare me..."

Lin Yulong struggled to his feet and held his sister's head in his arms.

Blood seeped from between his fingers, sticky and frighteningly hot.

He tried to cover it with his hands, but couldn't; he tried to wipe it with his sleeves, but couldn't wipe it all away.

"Sister, wake up... say something..."

Lin Qianqian's face grew paler and paler, like a sheet of paper.

"Mother...she can't really be dead, can she?" Lin Yuanyuan took a step back, her voice trembling slightly.

Ding Yuxiang was also stunned for a moment, then kicked Lin Qianqian's leg: "You little bitch, stop pretending to be dead."

Lin Qianqian remained motionless.

Ding Yuxiang felt a chill run down her spine and grabbed her daughter, saying, "Come on, let's go home! Don't say anything, do you hear me?"

The mother and daughter ran faster than rabbits.

All that remained on the ground was a pool of blood, Lin Yulong holding his sister, and Xiao Hu standing to the side.

"Sister..." Lin Yulong hugged her, pressed his face against her forehead, and tears streamed down his face. "You said you would take me to see Mother's grave... You said you would make me new shoes... You said..."

The blood is still flowing.

He didn't know what to do, he just held her and kept holding her.

She was the only person in the world who wanted him.

She can't die.

She died, and he truly became a bastard.

"Sister, wake up..." His voice trembled, tears streaming down his face. "I'll be good, I won't cause trouble, I'll never fight again... Sister, wake up..."

The sun was shining on his back, but he felt cold all over.

"I'm going to call my mother!" Xiao Hu's voice came from afar, followed by a series of footsteps running away.

Lin Yulong held his sister and waited.

Time seemed to move incredibly slowly. So slowly it felt like an eternity.

He didn't know how much time had passed before Tiger's mother's voice came from the doorway.

"What a terrible thing!"

Tiger's mother ran over, squatted down, and reached out to check Lin Qianqian's breath—she was still breathing, but very weakly, as weak as a strand of hair that would break at the slightest touch.

"Quick! Give me a hand!" Tiger's mother carried Lin Qianqian on her back, turned around and shouted to Little Tiger, "Hold onto your little brother Yulong!"

Lin Yulong, supported by Xiao Hu, followed behind with a limp.

His eyes were fixed on his sister's drooping hand. It was a thin hand with distinct knuckles, and the green juice of wild vegetables was still embedded in her fingernails.

My hands were covered in cuts, new wounds on top of old ones.

That hand swayed back and forth with Tiger's mother's steps, like a leaf about to drift away.

Lin Yulong stared intently, not daring to blink.

He was afraid that in the blink of an eye, the leaf would drift away.