At the age of seventeen, Lin Weiwei's life was put on pause - her twin sister Lin Wanxing, who had been fostered in a small southern town for seventeen years, was taken back to the Lin family by her biological parents.
One is a star-studded daughter of a wealthy family, with a tenth-level piano, and the aura of a prestigious school. She is used to defining the dignity of "Miss Lin" with diamonds and dresses; the other is a dusty small-town girl who knows how to choose vegetables and prune trees, and can do accounting and manage the household. There is a five-dollar old silver necklace in the canvas bag, like a weed that accidentally wandered into the greenhouse.
When they first met, Lin Weiwei built a high wall with indifference. She mocked Lin Wanxing for not understanding the rules of upper class society, questioned her purpose of approaching this family, and even deliberately set a trap to prove that this "fake" was not worthy of the Lin family's threshold.
But she didn't expect that this sister, who couldn't even use a smart phone, could turn the tide with just a forgotten email when her father's company was on the verge of losing hundreds of millions of dollars; that she could bring out a bowl of perfectly cooked millet porridge when her mother had a stomachache; that she could silently help her find her design draft when she lost it, and carefully mark that "sister, the lines here can be softer."
When Lin Weiwei saw the sentence "I hope my sister can like me" in Lin Wanxing's diary and the graffiti with two stars cuddling together, she suddenly realized that the "true and false" status she had always been obsessed with was so pale in front of her sister's clumsy warmth.
The light of the diamond necklace will fade, and the aura of the prestigious school will dim, but the fireworks under the eaves, carefully cherished, and the closeness hidden in the heart are the most authentic appearance of "home".
