Wen Xi never really liked being called “older sister.”
To her, the title felt like it came with invisible responsibilities and pressure.
She preferred being a princess or a young lady, so she ordered Zhou Jingchen to address her that way.
There was another child in the same courtyard named Fang Haoyu, who was the same age as them. The three of them often played together.
Once, Fang Haoyu heard Zhou Jingchen call Wen Xi “Princess,” and he asked curiously,
“If she’s the princess, then are you the prince?”
Wen Xi glanced sideways at Zhou Jingchen and replied casually,
“Have you ever seen a lame prince?”
The girl’s careless words fell clearly into Zhou Jingchen’s sensitive and fragile heart.
Wen Xi was the princess.
Fang Haoyu could be the prince.
Other people could also be princes.
But Zhou Jingchen, with his crippled leg, could never be her prince.
At that time, he didn’t yet understand what inferiority meant.
But as he grew older—seeing the sympathetic looks in adults’ eyes, realizing he could never catch up to Wen Xi’s bouncing steps—those feelings of inferiority slowly took root and began to grow.
For a while, Wen Zhiting noticed something strange about him.
The boy always kept his head lowered and rarely spoke.
So he took Zhou Jingchen to visit an orphanage.
There, Zhou Jingchen saw many disabled children—some without arms, some without legs, some who were blind, and some who were deaf.
The sight deeply shocked the young boy.
Uncle Wen said to him:
“Jingchen, sometimes life isn’t very fair to us.
But you still have both your legs. With the help of crutches, you can still walk. Isn’t that also a kind of blessing?
When you grow up, you’ll realize that everyone is disabled in some way.
Some people have disabilities in their legs.
Others have disabilities in their hearts.
Don’t lose heart, child. It won’t stop you from experiencing this world in your own way.”
From the time he entered preparatory school, Zhou Jingchen’s grades were always excellent.
His comprehension and memory were outstanding, and he studied harder than other children. Every teacher liked him.
Wen Xi, however, was the exact opposite.
The two of them were like positive and negative poles.
He was always at the top of the class, firmly in first place.
She barely managed to pass and often ranked last.
Wen Xi didn’t care about school at all.
She was carefree and loud all day long, laughing and fooling around like a wild girl who only cared about playing.
Sometimes she asked Zhou Jingchen to help her do her homework.
He refused.
Aunt Xiang had long told him that helping Wen Xi with homework would only harm her.
And Zhou Jingchen would never harm Wen Xi.
During exams, he covered his paper tightly and refused to let her copy.
Wen Xi became so angry that she pinched his waist and stepped on his feet under the desk.
Wen Xi could be very bad.
But Wen Xi could also be the best.
They went to school together every day and walked home together—always side by side like shadows following each other.
When the weather was bad—when the ground froze with ice or when rain left the roads muddy—it was very difficult for Zhou Jingchen to walk.
Sometimes he would slip and fall.
Whenever that happened, Wen Xi would scream,
“Ah!”
Then rush over to help him up.
She would complain about how clumsy he was, yet she never minded the mud on his clothes.
With her fair little hands, she would brush the dirt off him and let him rest his arm on her shoulder as they walked.
When the two of them were in first grade, Wen Zhiting officially took office as the director of Hongxing Machinery Factory.
After that, Wen Xi became even more proud and arrogant.
Whenever she went out with her parents, people would flatter them:
“Oh! This must be Director Wen’s little daughter. She’s so cute!”
Wen Xi always wore beautiful princess dresses, with two large decorative hair bows tied in her hair.
She walked as if she owned the road—like a little peacock, chin lifted proudly, full of arrogance.
At school, in Kangshi Alley, and even in nearby streets, everyone knew her name.
Whenever people mentioned her, they would say:
“Wen Xi—her nickname is Little Magpie. She’s Director Wen’s only daughter, spoiled like a princess.”
When she went to the pastry shop, the owner would always give her free cakes.
At school, teachers rarely spoke harshly to her.
When neighborhood children played together, they all had to give in to her.
Whenever she visited the factory, different uncles and aunts would take turns carrying her and buying her candy.
Wen Xi lived a glorious, pampered life.
At that time, every school had a group of bully boys who liked to pick on others.
They didn’t dare bully Wen Xi.
But they dared to bully Zhou Jingchen.
Once, they mocked him right in front of him.
“Hey, lame boy, what’s wrong with your leg?”
“My mom says you’re disabled. How can you go to the same school as us?”
“Lame boy, lame boy! Zhou Jingchen is a lame boy!”
Soon, Fang Haoyu told Wen Xi what had happened.
That very day, Wen Xi single-handedly cornered those boys against a wall.
She stood there angrily, one hand on her waist and the other pointing at them, her voice fierce despite her childish tone:
“Zhou Jingchen is my brother! None of you are allowed to bully him!
My dad is the factory director! If any of you dare bully my brother again, I’ll make my dad go talk to your parents!
I’ll have you all kicked out of school—and kicked out of the factory too!”
One of the boys argued back:
“He’s not even your real brother! You weren’t born to the same parents! He’s just a wild child Zhou Tianxiang picked up!”
Wen Xi became furious and scratched the boy’s face.
“I picked him up! He belongs to me!”
Wen Xi was chubby and strong.
Ordinary boys couldn’t beat her in a fight.
She grabbed one of them and started hitting him with both hands and feet.
Then she opened her mouth and bit his arm fiercely.
The boy screamed in pain.
The other children were so frightened by her ferocity that none of them dared step forward.
Wen Xi bared her teeth and shouted:
“If you ever bully Zhou Jingchen again, I’ll bite you to death!”
Another time, the three of them were playing soccer.
Fang Haoyu heard Wen Xi call Zhou Jingchen “puppy,” so he copied her and said,
“Puppy, kick the ball over here.”
Wen Xi exploded immediately.
She said Zhou Jingchen was her puppy alone, and Fang Haoyu wasn’t allowed to call him that.
After that, Fang Haoyu understood something:
Wen Xi was extremely domineering.
She could bully Zhou Jingchen—but no one else was allowed to.
She could call him “lame boy” or “puppy,” but no one else was allowed to say it.
Because of his disabled leg, Zhou Jingchen’s balance was worse than other children’s.
Falling and tripping were common.
So he often had injuries on his body.
Once, he was walking too fast and fell heavily onto the ground, hitting a sharp stone and scraping his knee until it bled.
When they got home, Wen Xi carefully treated the wound with cotton swabs and iodine.
After applying the iodine, she puckered her lips like Xiang Qin did and gently blew on the wound.
Then she asked softly,
“Does it hurt?”
From childhood until now, she had always helped him like that.
Elbows, knees, bruises, bleeding—whenever the adults weren’t home, Wen Xi was usually the one who treated his injuries.
Despite her young age, she had already become quite skilled at it.
One summer vacation, Zhou Jingchen had a serious fall.
His right arm was put in a cast, so there were many things he couldn’t do.
Wen Zhiting and Xiang Qin had to go to work, so they asked Wen Xi to take care of him.
She helped him get dressed, squeezed toothpaste for him, and served his meals.
Although she complained constantly, she still did everything properly.
But during that time, the most embarrassing thing for Zhou Jingchen was going to the bathroom.
One day, they were playing at Haiping Park when he suddenly needed to urinate badly.
At home, he could sit on the toilet.
But outside it was inconvenient.
Boys had to hold themselves while urinating, otherwise it would splash everywhere.
But Zhou Jingchen had a problem.
His left hand held the crutch, and his right arm was in a cast.
He couldn’t do it.
Seeing how uncomfortable he looked, Wen Xi dragged him to a corner by the wall.
Then she reached out and held his little bird for him and said bluntly:
“Hurry up and pee. If you wet your pants, I’m not walking home with you.”
“Can you close your eyes?” Zhou Jingchen asked.
Wen Xi snapped,
“You’re so troublesome! It’s not like I haven’t seen it before!”
Still, she closed her eyes.
After he finished, she helped him pull up his pants.
Zhou Jingchen’s face turned red as blood.
Then he asked, almost unconsciously,
“Wen Xi… if Fang Haoyu’s hands couldn’t move, would you help him pee like this too?”
Wen Xi rolled her eyes at him.
“Of course not!”
Zhou Jingchen felt happy.
But then Wen Xi added,
“He’s perfectly healthy and he has a mom. Why would he need my help?”
Zhou Jingchen lowered his head very low.
Oh.
So Wen Xi only helped him because he was pitiful.
Because she sympathized with him—a child without a mother, a disabled child.