My sister, whom I raised, has turned evil after faking her death for three years.

Jiang Ran huddled under the covers, clutching the bag of steamed buns tightly to her chest.

The plastic bag was slightly warm from her body heat, and the aroma of the buns seeped out through the bag opening, mingling with the smell of disinfectant from the blanket, creating an indescribable, reassuring scent.

She looked down at the two small steamed buns left in the bag. The bun skins had been slightly deformed by her accidental pressing, but the aroma of meat was still there, and they were still warm.

She thought to herself with delight that if this older sister took her back, she would at least have two more steamed buns to eat.

She would hide them inside her clothes, close to her stomach, so no one would notice.

When you get so hungry you can't stand it anymore, take it out and take a small bite.

She hadn't eaten meat in a very, very long time.

When was the last time I ate meat? It seems like my adoptive father bought half a roast duck, and my adoptive mother left the bones on the table. When they weren't looking, she secretly took a piece, hid in the corner of the balcony, and gnawed off every bit of meat from the bone, leaving it clean, even sucking out the marrow.

Later, her adoptive mother found out.

Her adoptive mother accused her of being a thief for stealing food, and her adoptive father whipped her three times with a belt.

She remembered that the beating hurt more than usual because she had actually stolen something, so she deserved to be beaten.

But this time it wasn't stolen.

This time it was given to me by that older sister.

The older sister who climbed over the balcony, whose smile was a little strange, spoke to her gently and pushed the steamed bun to her side, saying, "You've eaten the steamed bun too."

Giving it shouldn't be considered stealing.

But if that's the case, then why does she still want to hide it?

Jiang Ran couldn't quite understand this problem.

All she knew was that these two steamed buns were the best food she had ever eaten, better than that bowl of plain porridge, better than that tea egg, and better than any aroma she had ever smelled on the balcony before.

If she can never eat it again in this lifetime, at least she once had three.

No, there should be four, because one is already in her belly.

She curled herself up into a ball, knees to chest, wrapping the bag of buns inside, like a little animal guarding its food.

It was dark inside the quilt, with only a faint light seeping through the cotton fabric. The warmth of our breath circulated in the small space, damp and cozy.

  

Her eyelids slowly grew heavy, but her fingers still gripped the plastic bag tightly, refusing to let go.

The theme songs for the animated films on TV have changed one after another, but the little animals are still singing.

Jiang Ran's consciousness began to blur little by little, and she curled up in the quilt like a small, quiet ball.

Su Qing was woken up by the system.

[Host, fifteen minutes are up.]

She didn't move.

The system raised the volume by one notch: [Host, fifteen minutes are up. Also, your sleeping posture was witnessed by the target throughout, and the score has been recorded.]

Su Qing's eyelids snapped open.

For a moment, she didn't realize where she was. In front of her was an unfamiliar ceiling and fluorescent lights, and her nose was filled with the smell of disinfectant. Her neck was stiff from sleeping in a crooked position for too long, as if it had been twisted.

It took her two seconds to piece together her memories... hospital, pediatric ward, Jiang Ran, cartoon.

The cartoon was still playing.

She rubbed her eyes, yawned, and looked towards the hospital bed, ready to see how the little guy was doing watching TV.

Then her gaze fell on the bulging blanket on the bed.

The blanket billowed up in a rounded arc, and she curled up motionless in the middle of the bed.

Su Qing's yawn got stuck in her throat.

"Holy crap!"

She sprang up from the chair, rushed to the bedside, and a thousand ominous images flashed through her mind.

The little one was too weak and had difficulty breathing, so he was suffocating under the covers... She yanked the covers off.

Under the covers, Jiang Ran was curled up in a small ball, holding a bag of flattened steamed buns in her hands, half asleep and half awake.

The moment the curtain was lifted, a blast of cold air rushed in, causing her body to instinctively shiver. Her eyes widened as she looked up at Su Qing.

Their eyes met.

Su Qing still held onto the corner of the blanket with one hand, maintaining the posture of lifting the blanket, and the expression on her face slowly changed from fear to bewilderment.

Jiang Ran tilted her head back, the plastic bag of steamed buns in her arms making a slight rustling sound as it was squeezed. Her eyes were wide open, her lips slightly parted, as if she had been startled by the sudden light, and she stood there motionless.

The air in the ward seemed to freeze for a full three seconds.

Three seconds later, Jiang Ran's reaction completely surprised Su Qing.

The little guy almost reflexively pulled the bag of buns out of his pocket, held it above his head with both hands, and moved as quickly as if he had practiced it countless times.

Her shoulders hunched, her chin almost buried in her chest, her eyes tightly closed, and she transformed from the adorable little girl who had been happily sleeping with her bun into a trembling quail.

Her voice was thin and urgent, with a noticeable tremor, as if she was afraid that something terrible would happen if she hesitated for even a second.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry... I didn't mean to steal it... I, I just wanted to keep it... I, I didn't steal it... I didn't..."

As she spoke, her voice began to tremble. She held the steamed bun even higher, her wrist shaking slightly, as if she were voluntarily surrendering her most precious possession in exchange for the right to avoid being beaten.

The plastic bag made a soft rustling sound in her hand, and three small steamed buns rolled around inside.

Su Qing looked at her.

Looking at this seven-year-old girl, so thin she was practically skin and bones, with her eyes closed and shoulders hunched, holding two cold buns, apologizing with an almost muscle-memory-like practice, it was as if the formula "stealing food equals getting a beating" had been written into every cell of her body.

Su Qing did not speak.

She reached out and took the bag of steamed buns that Jiang Ran was holding.

Jiang Ran's hands were empty.

She shrank her shoulders even further, closed her eyes even tighter, pressed her lips into a thin white line, and her whole body was tense as if waiting for something to fall.

She was prepared to be hit anywhere—face, back, anything—just not with a cigarette butt like last time…

Then she felt a hand land on her head.

The force was very light, as light as a leaf falling on one's hair.

The hand paused on her head for a second, then awkwardly ruffled it twice, causing a few strands of her hair to stick up.

Su Qing's voice came down from above her head, still in that calm and even tone, as if she were saying that the weather was nice today, but what she said was completely different from what she had expected.

"Who said you stole it?"

Jiang Ran was stunned.

She slowly and tentatively opened one eye, peeking upwards through her eyelashes.

Su Qing stood by the bed, holding the bag of buns in one hand and pressing the other hand on her head, her expression looking unhappy... but the direction of that unhappiness was different from what she had seen before.

When her adoptive father hit her, his face was contorted with rage; when her adoptive mother scolded her, her eyes were filled with disgust. But the way this older sister frowned made it seem like she was angry, but not directed at her.

"Listen," Su Qing shoved the bag of buns back into Jiang Ran's arms, "What I give you is yours. You can eat it if you want, keep it if you want, or hide it to eat later if you want. You don't have to apologize to anyone."

Jiang Ran was stunned.

She looked down at the steamed bun that had been stuffed back into her hand, the plastic bag making a slight rustling sound.

Her lips moved slightly, as if she were trying to digest the meaning of those words, but it seemed like she couldn't digest them no matter how hard she tried; those words simply couldn't form a complete meaning in her cognitive system.

No need to apologize? Stealing food doesn't require an apology? No, wait, my sister said she didn't steal it; she said, "What I gave you is yours."

...But her foster mother once said when she poured out the porridge from her bowl, "What I gave you, you can take back."

Su Qing looked at her face, which looked like she had a CPU overload, and sighed inwardly.

take it easy.

She covered Jiang Ran with the blanket again, this time not tucking her in too tightly, leaving a gap for ventilation.

Then she picked up the remote and switched the TV to the movie channel, changing to a less noisy program.

"The steamed buns are cold," she said, sitting back in her chair and crossing her legs. "I'll take them to the nurses' station at noon to reheat them for you."

Jiang Ran hugged the bag of buns, huddled under the covers, and didn't say anything more.

But this time, she didn't frown; she just looked at Su Qing quietly.

After a long silence, she said very softly, "...Thank you."

The voice was so soft, as if afraid of being overheard.

Su Qing was drinking her completely cold coffee when she heard this. She paused for a moment, but didn't turn around. She just waved casually.

"Alright, alright, go watch your cartoon."

Jiang Ran buried her face in the blanket.

She carefully held the slightly deformed plastic bag containing the steamed bun in her arms, but she no longer hid it away.