My sister is a programming genius.
At the age of eighteen, I received an olive branch from Stanford.
However, seeing that the last game was just around the corner, she insisted on attending the concert of a rich second-generation boy.
I couldn't bear it anymore: "You are deaf in your left ear. You should understand that you are the only one you can rely on."
I tore up her ticket, told my parents about it, and warned the rich second generation not to harass her again!
Later, my sister became famous and became a kind-hearted CEO.
But I was forced to the rooftop by her, and she only looked at me with hatred in her eyes.
"This is your retribution for tearing us apart."
When I woke up again, the head teacher asked me if I wanted to change my sister's seat.
I glanced at my resentful sister and said coldly: "Good words can't persuade a damn ghost, so let her be."
