Chapter 2

In the living room, relatives were visiting.

Mom was cracking sunflower seeds, laughing so hard she was doubled over:

"That idiot. Can that face of hers be saved? Even top plastic surgeons couldn't do anything with it."

"Good thing I discovered her little scheme, or that money would've been completely wasted!"

The relatives chimed in:

"Ugly child usually seems so honest and simple, but her mind is quite active."

"She even thought about plastic surgery. That kind of face surgery is dangerous."

"Right now she's just ugly—if the whole face gets ruined from surgery, that'll be the end!"

Another aunt waved her hand:

"Why is ugly child always thinking about this? Actually, she's not that bad looking. She's quite..."

The aunt paused, struggling for a long time to squeeze out a few words:

"Quite cute, quite honest. She has the look of someone who'd make a good wife!"

The living room fell silent.

The aunt coughed awkwardly a couple of times.

The relatives and my parents exchanged glances, then couldn't help bursting into laughter.

"Haha, this ugly child has been funny since she was little."

Mom laughed so hard she ran out of breath, slapping her thigh.

Standing at the door, I gasped.

I felt all the blood in my body flowing backward, rushing to my head.

Visiting relatives had always followed this pattern since childhood.

My sister would be surrounded and praised first, then the topic would turn to me.

Relatives would tease me:

"How come you don't look like anyone else? You must have been switched at birth."

My mom would lower her voice and shush them:

"Don't tease her. She knows perfectly well in her heart."

"She knows her sister is pretty and she's ugly. She secretly cares about her looks too."

"Now when her sister puts her hair in two braids, she has to do it too, without even looking at what she looks like."

My pain, my humiliation, would be dragged out every New Year.

Turned into after-dinner entertainment by my mom.

I couldn't hold back anymore and rushed into the living room, shouting:

"How I am is none of your business! That's my money—give it back!"

Everyone in the living room turned their eyes on me.

Burning hot.

Like they were stripping me naked.

The insecurity deep in my heart wrapped around my throat like vines.

"Oh my, look at our ugly child all grown up. We shouldn't say too much—she'll get embarrassed."

Mom covered her mouth and laughed.

Her appraising gaze made me suffocate.

The relatives gathered around, teasing me:

"How does ugly child want to change herself? We older folks don't understand. Why don't you tell us about it?"

"You can't just say nothing. What if you get scammed and no one's there to back you up?"

My sister came downstairs humming, and hearing the commotion, she laughed too:

"Ugly child thinks her teeth don't look good and wants orthodontic treatment."

"Braces? Ugly child's teeth are pretty good though, quite straight. Your sister's were serious when she was little. Thank goodness your parents discovered it in time and got it corrected, or it really would have been a problem."

The topic shifted to my sister again.

The relatives surrounded my beautiful sister with lavish praise.

The tears I'd been holding back for so long still rolled down.

My voice was hoarse as I asked my mom:

"The doctor said my underbite could actually have been treated when I was little. It would have only cost a little bit of money to fix."

But Mom, Dad, why did you never care about me?

When my sister was losing her baby teeth, Mom and Dad would panic if even one tooth was slightly crooked.

They went to the hospital countless times and spent tens of thousands on orthodontic devices.

But they couldn't spare me a single glance.

By the time they noticed, I'd already grown into someone with a crooked face and misaligned jaw.

Mom and Dad didn't feel bad or worried. They only mocked and disdained me:

"Why are you getting uglier and uglier?"

"Ugly child, ugly child—that nickname really fits."