Are You Even My Real Brother?

"Zhang Mumu, are you really five years older than me? Has your brain still not finished developing?"

"Zhang Xiaoxiao, your guts have gotten as fat as you have. How dare you defy your elders?"

Everyday bickering. You'll get used to it.

Ahem, this is supposed to be a proper blurb, so we should get sentimental too. (Actually, I'm worried Zhang Mumu will see me badmouthing him, so here's a heartfelt confession first.)

We rarely get serious, because we're both reserved about our feelings and good at hiding them behind jokes and banter. We never stop complaining about each other, but we'd never abandon one another. The world will change, our parents will grow old and leave us, and when that time comes, all we'll have is each other.

I always tell Zhang Mumu that having a cute, sweet little sister like me is a rare blessing. But I could never bring myself to say how lucky I am to have a big brother like him. The essay I wrote for my high school entrance exam was titled "You're My Sun." When I took my college entrance exam, you, the school dropout, were still teaching me problem-solving tricks. And now, the first book I'm writing is about you.

Zhang Mumu, I know you've always been there, in my world.

P.S. Question: Suppose Zhang Mumu and your boyfriend both can't swim and fall into a river at the same time. There's no one around except you. Who do you save first?

Me: What kind of ridiculous hypothetical is that? I refuse to answer.

Question: If you don't answer, there'll be no readers.

Me: (What the hell.) I wouldn't even get the chance to save anyone. Zhang Mumu would already have shoved my boyfriend underwater. I can't swim either, and he wouldn't let me try to save anyone.