Younger man, crybaby, gentle younger brother VS secretly unhinged older sister, with a little angst
When Jiang Xiaoyao was six, she was adopted and thought she would finally have a home.
But her new “father” led her to an unfamiliar market and quietly started haggling over her price.
She broke free and ran, stumbling into a boy curled up behind some cardboard boxes in a filthy alley.
He was even dirtier than she was, but his eyes shone like stars untouched by dust.
“I don’t have a name,” he said.
Jiang Xiaoyao took his thin, bony hand and shared with him a little of the light hidden in her own name. “Then I’ll call you ‘Jiang Shu.’ From now on, I’ll tell you about every day.”
From that day on, two abandoned souls began clumsily piecing together a rainy but warm patch of sunshine that belonged only to them.
