For twenty-three years, I have always been the only daughter in the family. My parents wore old cloth shoes and ate pickles, saying that they spent all their money on me studying. But I found a lucky charm under the bed, found a 2.8 Million life extension in the camphor box, and bumped into my mother in a silk suit at the hotel, who was tenderly feeding crabmeal dumplings to a boy in a wheelchair—those were twin brothers born on the same day and the same year as me.
