Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Long-buried memories came flooding back to me.

It had happened more than ten years ago, when I was eight years old.

Even though I could barely pass for a lady now, I had been completely different as a child—a total little troublemaker.

Because I was so bold and always getting into mischief, my little girlfriends gradually stopped wanting to hang out with me.

Then, during one summer vacation, the chubby little Dylan Ye of that time was sent to stay at my house for two months.

As soon as I saw I had a new playmate, I happily took him everywhere—catching fish and chasing birds.

My dad had raised all kinds of valuable flowers, birds, fish, and insects, and many of them had met their end at my hands.

But because little Dylan Ye was around, my dad couldn't get angry and scold me.

This made me even more reckless—until the day I got us into real trouble.

My grandfather had left behind an attic, which stored all the treasures he had cherished during his lifetime.

I had always been told to stay away from the attic, but that only made me more curious about it.

I dragged little Dylan Ye along and snuck over to it. Since we didn't have a key, I found a ladder and told him to climb in through the window with me.

Just as I climbed up to the window and was pulling him up too, I lost my grip. That night, he was rushed to the hospital and had to get a cast on his leg.

From start to finish, he never told on me. He just said he had been curious and climbed up by himself.

I felt really guilty. For several days in a row, I brought him tea and water, afraid that if he got even a little bit unhappy, he would tell the truth.

Even though he had repeatedly promised not to betray me, I still didn't trust him.

The thought of what my dad would do to me if he found out the truth—my leg might end up just like Dylan's—made me burst into tears.

"Don't cry anymore," little Dylan Ye didn't know how to comfort me.

Maybe it was the atmosphere, or maybe his leg really hurt badly—he started crying too.

Seeing him in such a terrible state because of me, I sniffled and went over to comfort him, "It's all my fault. I got you hurt. I'll never be this naughty again. Please get better soon."

In the end, the two of us came up with an absolutely sincere solution.

He made me promise that when we grew up, I would marry him. That way, we would be in this together—like grasshoppers tied to the same string.

Later, his family immigrated abroad, and I never saw him again. This incident gradually faded away along with my memories.