On my twentieth birthday, the best gift I received was an expulsion order.
The sound of the bowl hitting the floor still echoed in the living room, and the porcelain shards splashed to my feet. One piece scratched my ankle, leaving a trail of blood. I didn't hide, I just stood there, looking at the blushing face of my mother—no, Mrs. Shen.
"Shen Qingyin, do you know what day it is today?" Her voice was so shrill that it could pierce her eardrums. "Your brother's engagement party! How many distinguished guests are coming. Look at what you are wearing. You are wearing black. Are you here to mourn?"
