The most common thing Lin Zhao has heard in his life is "You have to be sensible."
Her father is the director of surgery and her mother is the head teacher of a key middle school. They have planned every step for her: first in the exam, go to normal school, become a teacher, and marry an honest man. She accepted all the orders, gave up the Olympiad promotion, turned down offers from foreign companies, gave up her promotion spots to colleagues, and emptied her savings to lend them to her ex-boyfriend. At the 40-year-old class reunion, the poor student who was last at the time owned three chain stores. The school sweetheart he had a crush on hugged his internet celebrity girlfriend, and she even had to borrow taxi fare from her deskmate. When the show was over, someone smiled and patted her on the shoulder: "Lin Zhao, you were so good back then, how did you end up like this?"
When she woke up the next day, she was lying on the small class desk with red marks on her face. There was a bowl of untouched egg custard in front of her. There is an old-fashioned ceiling fan above the head, and the young teacher on the podium is calling the names with a smile: "Kid Lin Zhao, come and introduce yourself to everyone."
She gripped the small spoon tightly, stood up, and threw the egg custard and the bowl into the trash can.
"My name is Lin Zhao." She looked at the confused little faces in the room and said word by word, "In this life, I will let anyone go if they ask me to give in again."
From the age of three, she has wanted to take back every opportunity that was given up, take back every moment of life that was emptied out, and put those who advised her to "bear with it," "give in," and "for your own good" into their rightful place.
