Ever heard of the entertainment industry's Rain God? Wherever he goes, it rains as soon as he starts singing and dancing, so his fans gave him the title.
That's my second brother.
Ever heard of the entertainment industry's God of Wealth? He runs an entertainment company, and everyone he signs becomes a star. He can even revive washed-up deadbeats and turn them into cash cows.
That's my eldest brother.
They say that more than a dozen generations ago, our ancestors were a family of shamans. Women were wu, and men were xi, which is another way of saying they were masters!
Maybe it's in the family. All the kids in our family have some kind of special trait. People say my second brother's singing and dancing make Heaven think he's praying for rain, while my eldest brother's luck is spectacular thanks to our virtuous ancestors.
I refuse to accept it. Why are their traits all good, while mine is bad luck?! What am I, some kind of miserable little girl?!
Heaven is unjust, treating me like a dog;
A childhood full of misery gradually turned me into a weirdo...
At three, when I was at the age of playing with mud, any kid who played with me would have bad luck, so I played with cats, dogs, bugs, and snakes instead.
At thirteen, I had a crush on a handsome boy with a weak birth chart, the sort who easily attracts ghosts. I gouged out a ghost's eyeball to show him and reassure him there was nothing to be afraid of. But he stared at me in horror, shouted for help, and ran off.
After that, I sealed my heart in concrete and never loved again. I'm serious!
I was so lonely that I forced all kinds of wandering spirits to be my playmates.
Then, at eighteen, I saved a wandering soul wreathed in purple qi. He said he was willing to share some of his good luck with me.
At last, I could live a somewhat normal life. But, as the old saying goes, it's easier to move a mountain than change one's nature.
I studied acting in college, and last year I had a minor breakout playing an innocent first love. My agent wanted me to cultivate a pure and sweet image.
My ghostly friends all called me a bully who acted like a delicate flower in public and a tyrant in private.
I said nothing and just kept doing my job diligently.
At last, my carefully cultivated image collapsed.
...And somehow I got even more famous?
Theme: Let me think about it.
