The Goddess and the Ugly Duckling: C45
Extra 1: Lu Xiaobei
This novel was posted on cntranslations [dot] com, by anasiana. If you're not reading it there, you get what you get ￣へ￣)
The first time I saw Yu Xiaoya was on the bus we were taking to winter camp that year. Her eyes were fleshed red and she was leaning on the back of the seat in front of her crying.
But since that time, my mother did become more fond of cooking. We grew happier the more time we spent there, and were even more widely accepted by the people around us, too. After some time passed, my mother was again ion good terms with her father, and our financial situation also improved. From then on, whenever I went shopping, I rarely ever had to give price tags a look.
Her parents were an ordinary couple, with her father seeming like a really gentle man while her mother gave the air of someone who was serious.
At any rate, my life was no fairytale, and when I saw Xiaoya back then I was reminded of my former self. It was a far from pleasant period in my life, but it was nonetheless one that was real.
Yu Xiaoya, I didn't even know her name back then. The first time I really paid attention to her was when she used her hands to pat her cheeks, did her best to make her expression look more natural, and waved goodbye to her parents as the corner's of her mouth tugged themselves upwards mechanically.
If there was any sword or armour I could use to protect myself, I wouldn't think twice about putting such things to use.
It was a plastered smile, one that was a bit stiff.
But when she heard me ask her, he entire face brightened.
All the guests who came to the party endlessly heap praises on my mother because of her food. They liked it so much, when they were finished drinking, they even asked my mom if she wanted quit her job at the museum and open up a restaurant there.
That night, for the first time in a long while, I had dreamt about my past.
If there was any sword or armour I could use to protect myself, I wouldn't think twice about putting such things to use.
It was like how you would appreciate galloping steed, and could even manage to be very fond of it. But despite those affections, that was as far as it went, because there was no way you could ever want to have sеx with it.
But I never thought her doing so was silly, because back in my home town, in order to not make her mother worried when we lived in that foreign village, I would also plaster a smile on my face before I went back home.
As for "that"?
At camp the year before, I had stayed in a room by myself and figured that year, too, I would also be on my own.
Was this the most prolific thing I did in middle-school? Teaching some students to respect others?
But when she heard me ask her, he entire face brightened.
The other time when the theme was seafood, the fish was fresh and cheap because the village wasn't too far from the sea.
Once a friend had told me that I was a warm person and lives like mine had only existed in fairytales. That everyday when I woke up I was greeted by flowers a nd sugar plums, and every night when I went to bed I was watched over by the moon and stars.
The other time when the theme was seafood, the fish was fresh and cheap because the village wasn't too far from the sea.
A life with no setbacks, no unpleasantness at any time.
In that school I did have one friend I had grown up with, and he was a nice guy. He tried to reason with the others, but it managed to kindle the rebellious nature in some fools.
It was a plastered smile, one that was a bit stiff.
That night, for the first time in a long while, I had dreamt about my past.
If there was any sword or armour I could use to protect myself, I wouldn't think twice about putting such things to use.
During the day, I attended a kindergarten in that village. There weren't a lot of people with jet-black hair and eyes there so people were amazed when they laid eyes on me. But, apart from two little boys who thought I was cute and fought over my hand in marriage in the future (making me famous in that village), everything else about my life there went off without a hitch.
I told my teacher about these things, I told her the severity of my concerns. But all she said to me was "it was just harmless pranks, just a game, they were just having fun."
The teachers in the Netherlands were quite fair in assigning grades. Before exams they would give minor stumbling blocks like switching up the main points, or missing out one or two people when it came to distributing the materials for the group, but so long as you had completed all your homework and scored well on exams, even if it was just one-tenth of a point, they would not cheat it from you.
But the about fairytales is that they only exist in people's minds.
There was also one time where my mother had a Chinese themed get-together, and she spent three whole days preparing all the food. I never even knew my mother could cook that well before then since, at home, the only thing we ate was pizza and fast food.
My mother refused their wish, of course. She loved her job at the museum, it made her feel fulfilled.
At camp the year before, I had stayed in a room by myself and figured that year, too, I would also be on my own.
iana: this extra doesn't mean the story's done. There's still eight main chapters to go.
As for "that"?
At any rate, my life was no fairytale, and when I saw Xiaoya back then I was reminded of my former self. It was a far from pleasant period in my life, but it was nonetheless one that was real.
Extra 1: Lu Xiaobei
Although my father can't be considered a good father in the general sense, he did respect me, so he never thought of my opinions as merely those of a petulant child and considered my feelings. He knew I didn't want to spend the New Year's festival at his house, so he signed up for the winter camp on my behalf. He was also aware that I didn't like staying in the same room as strangers, so he had contacted the school and had a single room arranged for me.
I really liked those gatherings. Because sometimes they would be a beer party, and at other times it could one revolving around seafood.
But when she heard me ask her, he entire face brightened.
But that year, there seemed to have been a mistake.
Truth be told, I had no intention of getting involved with Xiaoya back then.
Security-wise, the village was very safe, too. So even if the adults and kids got tipsy, nothing bad would happen. Once, my mother had even offered me a sip of beer, and for the life of me, I couldn't understand why so many people would want to drink such a horrid tasting thing, gulping it all down just after one sip, and also doing so with no regrets.
At least, that was how it was until that teacher from the camp had arranged for her and me to share the same room.
And after the third time my friend and I trashed the cafeteria in an act of self-defence, that was what it took for all the teachers to finally declare again and again that discrimination was prohibited in our school.
If there was any sword or armour I could use to protect myself, I wouldn't think twice about putting such things to use.
After I came to China, I saw the same type of school bullies here, the type that would isolate you. But in the Diamond Capital, just by being obviously different from other people, your black hair and eyes, your yellow skin and poor accent when speaking English, meant they would not just scorn you, they would bully you in every conceivable way.
At camp the year before, I had stayed in a room by myself and figured that year, too, I would also be on my own.
My school had one of the best university preparatory systems in the country, and less than fifteen percent of students could achieve a grade of eight when the highest was ten and the lowest was one. Yet, in all of my subjects, I got nines, nine-point-fives, and even tens.
Although my father can't be considered a good father in the general sense, he did respect me, so he never thought of my opinions as merely those of a petulant child and considered my feelings. He knew I didn't want to spend the New Year's festival at his house, so he signed up for the winter camp on my behalf. He was also aware that I didn't like staying in the same room as strangers, so he had contacted the school and had a single room arranged for me.
My mother refused their wish, of course. She loved her job at the museum, it made her feel fulfilled.
Security-wise, the village was very safe, too. So even if the adults and kids got tipsy, nothing bad would happen. Once, my mother had even offered me a sip of beer, and for the life of me, I couldn't understand why so many people would want to drink such a horrid tasting thing, gulping it all down just after one sip, and also doing so with no regrets.
Even when I was the first to arrive at the cafeteria, I would still end up being the one who was served her lunch last.
I really liked those gatherings. Because sometimes they would be a beer party, and at other times it could one revolving around seafood.
During the next vacation period, I cut the hair that fell down to my waist and a guy who was our neighbour to teach me how to fight, and anyone who dared point a finger my way from then on was going to get a taste of my fist.
But that year, there seemed to have been a mistake.
On our way back to our room, she walked behind me, quietly, like a little kid. I didn't bully her, or want it to look like like I did, so I asked her to just walk beside me...
Yu Xiaoya, well, she had become my roommate. She was a girl that gave the same air as a stream, one shallow and clear, where everything lying at the bottom can be easily seen.
Even when I was the first to arrive at the cafeteria, I would still end up being the one who was served her lunch last.
During the day, I attended a kindergarten in that village. There weren't a lot of people with jet-black hair and eyes there so people were amazed when they laid eyes on me. But, apart from two little boys who thought I was cute and fought over my hand in marriage in the future (making me famous in that village), everything else about my life there went off without a hitch.
Yu Xiaoya, I didn't even know her name back then. The first time I really paid attention to her was when she used her hands to pat her cheeks, did her best to make her expression look more natural, and waved goodbye to her parents as the corner's of her mouth tugged themselves upwards mechanically.
Although my father can't be considered a good father in the general sense, he did respect me, so he never thought of my opinions as merely those of a petulant child and considered my feelings. He knew I didn't want to spend the New Year's festival at his house, so he signed up for the winter camp on my behalf. He was also aware that I didn't like staying in the same room as strangers, so he had contacted the school and had a single room arranged for me.
I really liked those gatherings. Because sometimes they would be a beer party, and at other times it could one revolving around seafood.
Her parents were an ordinary couple, with her father seeming like a really gentle man while her mother gave the air of someone who was serious.
Security-wise, the village was very safe, too. So even if the adults and kids got tipsy, nothing bad would happen. Once, my mother had even offered me a sip of beer, and for the life of me, I couldn't understand why so many people would want to drink such a horrid tasting thing, gulping it all down just after one sip, and also doing so with no regrets.
She was cautious when she came over to greet me, with a hello. She followed suit when she saw me put my tray back on the rack after eating. I wanted to tell her there was no need for her do it too, because the only reason I did it was it was something I was used to.
Truth be told, I had no intention of getting involved with Xiaoya back then.
Well, that should be after we had left that village and I started middle school. My mother had to move to A-City, a city known as the "Diamond Capital"T/n: I believe this is Amsterdam.. I had grown up in that small village, so, naturally, I spoke Dutch most of the time while my mother taught me a bit of Chinese.
In my third year of middle school, I was already quite proficient at fighting, so no one dared to throw anything my way again.
Security-wise, the village was very safe, too. So even if the adults and kids got tipsy, nothing bad would happen. Once, my mother had even offered me a sip of beer, and for the life of me, I couldn't understand why so many people would want to drink such a horrid tasting thing, gulping it all down just after one sip, and also doing so with no regrets.
My mother refused their wish, of course. She loved her job at the museum, it made her feel fulfilled.
Kind of, because when it came to matters of the heart, I had started quite late. In the village, I had to always take care of my mother when she drank herself in daze. Then everyday, I was with her learning Chinese or learning to cook. Then in the Diamond Capital, to deal with the spoiled trust-fund babies, I spent all my free time getting into fights.
iana: this extra doesn't mean the story's done. There's still eight main chapters to go.
But I never told her, she was just a stranger after all.
At least, that was how it was until that teacher from the camp had arranged for her and me to share the same room.
But I never told her, she was just a stranger after all.
But that year, there seemed to have been a mistake.
On our way back to our room, she walked behind me, quietly, like a little kid. I didn't bully her, or want it to look like like I did, so I asked her to just walk beside me...
After I came to China, I saw the same type of school bullies here, the type that would isolate you. But in the Diamond Capital, just by being obviously different from other people, your black hair and eyes, your yellow skin and poor accent when speaking English, meant they would not just scorn you, they would bully you in every conceivable way.
My mother smiled a lot more often when she was there. Perhaps it was because she was rarely left alone with her thoughts, or perhaps she just thought that place was fantastic. She would meet up with our neighbours to share a few drinks, and would bring Chinese delicacies to parties hosted by my classmates parents.
Although my father can't be considered a good father in the general sense, he did respect me, so he never thought of my opinions as merely those of a petulant child and considered my feelings. He knew I didn't want to spend the New Year's festival at his house, so he signed up for the winter camp on my behalf. He was also aware that I didn't like staying in the same room as strangers, so he had contacted the school and had a single room arranged for me.
But when she heard me ask her, he entire face brightened.
My mother smiled a lot more often when she was there. Perhaps it was because she was rarely left alone with her thoughts, or perhaps she just thought that place was fantastic. She would meet up with our neighbours to share a few drinks, and would bring Chinese delicacies to parties hosted by my classmates parents.
To which I said, it wasn't necessary, because Yu Xiaoya was good. I was fine with spending the rest of the time at the winter camp with both of us sharing a room.
But that year, my mother had suddenly asked, "Do you want to go back to China?"
As for "that"?
I really liked those gatherings. Because sometimes they would be a beer party, and at other times it could one revolving around seafood.
My memories were from my time in the Netherlands, in that ordinary little village. Many of the people living there new each other, and apart from me and my mother, there were no other immigrants.
Yu Xiaoya, I didn't even know her name back then. The first time I really paid attention to her was when she used her hands to pat her cheeks, did her best to make her expression look more natural, and waved goodbye to her parents as the corner's of her mouth tugged themselves upwards mechanically.
Well, it was probably around this time that I noticed my feelings towards her weren't quite right. I think what started it was me seeing something similar about myself within her. A very long time ago, I was also eager to earn recognition from others.
Well, that should be after we had left that village and I started middle school. My mother had to move to A-City, a city known as the "Diamond Capital"T/n: I believe this is Amsterdam.. I had grown up in that small village, so, naturally, I spoke Dutch most of the time while my mother taught me a bit of Chinese.
After we got to room 201, I inspected the facilities in the room as usual. It had always been a habit of mine, regardless of what I do. I needed to be prepared in advanced in case something bad did happen, because run around all over to place to find someone after the fact wasn't good. Not for myself, nor for others too.
With every civilised method not garnering a solution, the only recourse I had left was the use of force.
But that year, my mother had suddenly asked, "Do you want to go back to China?"
But I never told her, she was just a stranger after all.
Yu Xiaoya went to use the bath first, and during that time the teacher had given mea call. She said they had planned a single room for me at first, but the two small buildings only had a dozen rooms between them, and those happened to be enough for all the students and the teachers too. She then asked me if I can stay there for one night until she contacted a B&B for me to move into the next day.
But the about fairytales is that they only exist in people's minds.
To which I said, it wasn't necessary, because Yu Xiaoya was good. I was fine with spending the rest of the time at the winter camp with both of us sharing a room.
There are times when I would walk into class to see my name scratched onto the blackboard quite repulsively every single day. There were other times when I was walking people would point and jeer. I would find my drawer under my desk was filled with bananas. I would find my workbooks gone.
At least, that was how it was until that teacher from the camp had arranged for her and me to share the same room.
So, I guess in my own way, I had completely conquered that place.
The teachers in the Netherlands were quite fair in assigning grades. Before exams they would give minor stumbling blocks like switching up the main points, or missing out one or two people when it came to distributing the materials for the group, but so long as you had completed all your homework and scored well on exams, even if it was just one-tenth of a point, they would not cheat it from you.
Even when I was the first to arrive at the cafeteria, I would still end up being the one who was served her lunch last.
With regard to English, I was neither bad nor good at it.
My mother refused their wish, of course. She loved her job at the museum, it made her feel fulfilled.
If at that I had ended up rooming with any other person, I would've flatly refused. It was only because it was her that I had agreed to it. And given the kind of sensitive girl she was, if I had up and left the next day, who knows what she would think.
If at that I had ended up rooming with any other person, I would've flatly refused. It was only because it was her that I had agreed to it. And given the kind of sensitive girl she was, if I had up and left the next day, who knows what she would think.
The first time I saw Yu Xiaoya was on the bus we were taking to winter camp that year. Her eyes were fleshed red and she was leaning on the back of the seat in front of her crying.
After I came to China, I saw the same type of school bullies here, the type that would isolate you. But in the Diamond Capital, just by being obviously different from other people, your black hair and eyes, your yellow skin and poor accent when speaking English, meant they would not just scorn you, they would bully you in every conceivable way.
That night, for the first time in a long while, I had dreamt about my past.
All the guests who came to the party endlessly heap praises on my mother because of her food. They liked it so much, when they were finished drinking, they even asked my mom if she wanted quit her job at the museum and open up a restaurant there.
My memories were from my time in the Netherlands, in that ordinary little village. Many of the people living there new each other, and apart from me and my mother, there were no other immigrants.
She was cautious when she came over to greet me, with a hello. She followed suit when she saw me put my tray back on the rack after eating. I wanted to tell her there was no need for her do it too, because the only reason I did it was it was something I was used to.
My memories were from my time in the Netherlands, in that ordinary little village. Many of the people living there new each other, and apart from me and my mother, there were no other immigrants.
N/A
On a hillside in beside that village, a museum was built on the slope. It was the site of a famous battle and housed memorabilia from the second world war, so it was a museum that was widely known. But due to there not being many large cities nearby, not many people went there for a tour.
They called me "queen", others called me "goddess".
This was the museum where my mother was employed.
Well, it was probably around this time that I noticed my feelings towards her weren't quite right. I think what started it was me seeing something similar about myself within her. A very long time ago, I was also eager to earn recognition from others.
During the day, I attended a kindergarten in that village. There weren't a lot of people with jet-black hair and eyes there so people were amazed when they laid eyes on me. But, apart from two little boys who thought I was cute and fought over my hand in marriage in the future (making me famous in that village), everything else about my life there went off without a hitch.
So after all these things went down, I thought I'd find some handsome football captain and we'd fall in love like they do in those American dramas. But... around that time, I started to realise I didn't seem to like boys.
It was like how you would appreciate galloping steed, and could even manage to be very fond of it. But despite those affections, that was as far as it went, because there was no way you could ever want to have sеx with it.
I told my teacher about these things, I told her the severity of my concerns. But all she said to me was "it was just harmless pranks, just a game, they were just having fun."
My mother smiled a lot more often when she was there. Perhaps it was because she was rarely left alone with her thoughts, or perhaps she just thought that place was fantastic. She would meet up with our neighbours to share a few drinks, and would bring Chinese delicacies to parties hosted by my classmates parents.
Was this the most prolific thing I did in middle-school? Teaching some students to respect others?
I really liked those gatherings. Because sometimes they would be a beer party, and at other times it could one revolving around seafood.
My memories were from my time in the Netherlands, in that ordinary little village. Many of the people living there new each other, and apart from me and my mother, there were no other immigrants.
Security-wise, the village was very safe, too. So even if the adults and kids got tipsy, nothing bad would happen. Once, my mother had even offered me a sip of beer, and for the life of me, I couldn't understand why so many people would want to drink such a horrid tasting thing, gulping it all down just after one sip, and also doing so with no regrets.
At camp the year before, I had stayed in a room by myself and figured that year, too, I would also be on my own.
In addition to that, I grew up some more in those past couple of years, so there were a lot of people trying get me to on dates. And because of this, there were times where I didn't need to lift a hand, since there were others who were willing to do the beatings.
But when she heard me ask her, he entire face brightened.
The other time when the theme was seafood, the fish was fresh and cheap because the village wasn't too far from the sea.
It was like how you would appreciate galloping steed, and could even manage to be very fond of it. But despite those affections, that was as far as it went, because there was no way you could ever want to have sеx with it.
To which I said, it wasn't necessary, because Yu Xiaoya was good. I was fine with spending the rest of the time at the winter camp with both of us sharing a room.
On our way back to our room, she walked behind me, quietly, like a little kid. I didn't bully her, or want it to look like like I did, so I asked her to just walk beside me...
There was also one time where my mother had a Chinese themed get-together, and she spent three whole days preparing all the food. I never even knew my mother could cook that well before then since, at home, the only thing we ate was pizza and fast food.
It was a plastered smile, one that was a bit stiff.
There are times when I would walk into class to see my name scratched onto the blackboard quite repulsively every single day. There were other times when I was walking people would point and jeer. I would find my drawer under my desk was filled with bananas. I would find my workbooks gone.
Yu Xiaoya, I didn't even know her name back then. The first time I really paid attention to her was when she used her hands to pat her cheeks, did her best to make her expression look more natural, and waved goodbye to her parents as the corner's of her mouth tugged themselves upwards mechanically.
But when she heard me ask her, he entire face brightened.
I really liked those gatherings. Because sometimes they would be a beer party, and at other times it could one revolving around seafood.
And after the third time my friend and I trashed the cafeteria in an act of self-defence, that was what it took for all the teachers to finally declare again and again that discrimination was prohibited in our school.
She was cautious when she came over to greet me, with a hello. She followed suit when she saw me put my tray back on the rack after eating. I wanted to tell her there was no need for her do it too, because the only reason I did it was it was something I was used to.
All the guests who came to the party endlessly heap praises on my mother because of her food. They liked it so much, when they were finished drinking, they even asked my mom if she wanted quit her job at the museum and open up a restaurant there.
iana: this extra doesn't mean the story's done. There's still eight main chapters to go.
My mother refused their wish, of course. She loved her job at the museum, it made her feel fulfilled.
But I never told her, she was just a stranger after all.
Extra 1: Lu Xiaobei
But I never told her, she was just a stranger after all.
Even when I was the first to arrive at the cafeteria, I would still end up being the one who was served her lunch last.
So, I guess in my own way, I had completely conquered that place.
But since that time, my mother did become more fond of cooking. We grew happier the more time we spent there, and were even more widely accepted by the people around us, too. After some time passed, my mother was again ion good terms with her father, and our financial situation also improved. From then on, whenever I went shopping, I rarely ever had to give price tags a look.
After we got to room 201, I inspected the facilities in the room as usual. It had always been a habit of mine, regardless of what I do. I needed to be prepared in advanced in case something bad did happen, because run around all over to place to find someone after the fact wasn't good. Not for myself, nor for others too.
There are times when I would walk into class to see my name scratched onto the blackboard quite repulsively every single day. There were other times when I was walking people would point and jeer. I would find my drawer under my desk was filled with bananas. I would find my workbooks gone.
And after the third time my friend and I trashed the cafeteria in an act of self-defence, that was what it took for all the teachers to finally declare again and again that discrimination was prohibited in our school.
So when was it that things had changed, you ask?
In the end, the school I attended was a six year university prep one and I had three years remaining.
But that year, my mother had suddenly asked, "Do you want to go back to China?"
Yu Xiaoya went to use the bath first, and during that time the teacher had given mea call. She said they had planned a single room for me at first, but the two small buildings only had a dozen rooms between them, and those happened to be enough for all the students and the teachers too. She then asked me if I can stay there for one night until she contacted a B&B for me to move into the next day.
A life with no setbacks, no unpleasantness at any time.
At least, that was how it was until that teacher from the camp had arranged for her and me to share the same room.
Well, that should be after we had left that village and I started middle school. My mother had to move to A-City, a city known as the "Diamond Capital"T/n: I believe this is Amsterdam.. I had grown up in that small village, so, naturally, I spoke Dutch most of the time while my mother taught me a bit of Chinese.
The first time I saw Yu Xiaoya was on the bus we were taking to winter camp that year. Her eyes were fleshed red and she was leaning on the back of the seat in front of her crying.
At least, that was how it was until that teacher from the camp had arranged for her and me to share the same room.
After I came to China, I saw the same type of school bullies here, the type that would isolate you. But in the Diamond Capital, just by being obviously different from other people, your black hair and eyes, your yellow skin and poor accent when speaking English, meant they would not just scorn you, they would bully you in every conceivable way.
So after all these things went down, I thought I'd find some handsome football captain and we'd fall in love like they do in those American dramas. But... around that time, I started to realise I didn't seem to like boys.
There are times when I would walk into class to see my name scratched onto the blackboard quite repulsively every single day. There were other times when I was walking people would point and jeer. I would find my drawer under my desk was filled with bananas. I would find my workbooks gone.
With regard to English, I was neither bad nor good at it.
With regard to English, I was neither bad nor good at it.
But I never thought her doing so was silly, because back in my home town, in order to not make her mother worried when we lived in that foreign village, I would also plaster a smile on my face before I went back home.
All the guests who came to the party endlessly heap praises on my mother because of her food. They liked it so much, when they were finished drinking, they even asked my mom if she wanted quit her job at the museum and open up a restaurant there.
Well, it was probably around this time that I noticed my feelings towards her weren't quite right. I think what started it was me seeing something similar about myself within her. A very long time ago, I was also eager to earn recognition from others.
As for "that"?
So, I guess in my own way, I had completely conquered that place.
Once a friend had told me that I was a warm person and lives like mine had only existed in fairytales. That everyday when I woke up I was greeted by flowers a nd sugar plums, and every night when I went to bed I was watched over by the moon and stars.
But at the Diamond Capital, I was enrolled into an international school. There, the main language was English, and a lot of the other students there had come from other European countries where English was the mother tongue, too.
That night, for the first time in a long while, I had dreamt about my past.
All the guests who came to the party endlessly heap praises on my mother because of her food. They liked it so much, when they were finished drinking, they even asked my mom if she wanted quit her job at the museum and open up a restaurant there.
Well, that should be after we had left that village and I started middle school. My mother had to move to A-City, a city known as the "Diamond Capital"T/n: I believe this is Amsterdam.. I had grown up in that small village, so, naturally, I spoke Dutch most of the time while my mother taught me a bit of Chinese.
After I came to China, I saw the same type of school bullies here, the type that would isolate you. But in the Diamond Capital, just by being obviously different from other people, your black hair and eyes, your yellow skin and poor accent when speaking English, meant they would not just scorn you, they would bully you in every conceivable way.
N/A
There are times when I would walk into class to see my name scratched onto the blackboard quite repulsively every single day. There were other times when I was walking people would point and jeer. I would find my drawer under my desk was filled with bananas. I would find my workbooks gone.
I told my teacher about these things, I told her the severity of my concerns. But all she said to me was "it was just harmless pranks, just a game, they were just having fun."
It was like how you would appreciate galloping steed, and could even manage to be very fond of it. But despite those affections, that was as far as it went, because there was no way you could ever want to have sеx with it.
Was this the most prolific thing I did in middle-school? Teaching some students to respect others?
Security-wise, the village was very safe, too. So even if the adults and kids got tipsy, nothing bad would happen. Once, my mother had even offered me a sip of beer, and for the life of me, I couldn't understand why so many people would want to drink such a horrid tasting thing, gulping it all down just after one sip, and also doing so with no regrets.
But I never told her, she was just a stranger after all.
To which I said, it wasn't necessary, because Yu Xiaoya was good. I was fine with spending the rest of the time at the winter camp with both of us sharing a room.
Security-wise, the village was very safe, too. So even if the adults and kids got tipsy, nothing bad would happen. Once, my mother had even offered me a sip of beer, and for the life of me, I couldn't understand why so many people would want to drink such a horrid tasting thing, gulping it all down just after one sip, and also doing so with no regrets.
Even when I was the first to arrive at the cafeteria, I would still end up being the one who was served her lunch last.
Once a friend had told me that I was a warm person and lives like mine had only existed in fairytales. That everyday when I woke up I was greeted by flowers a nd sugar plums, and every night when I went to bed I was watched over by the moon and stars.
The other time when the theme was seafood, the fish was fresh and cheap because the village wasn't too far from the sea.
It was like how you would appreciate galloping steed, and could even manage to be very fond of it. But despite those affections, that was as far as it went, because there was no way you could ever want to have sеx with it.
After we got to room 201, I inspected the facilities in the room as usual. It had always been a habit of mine, regardless of what I do. I needed to be prepared in advanced in case something bad did happen, because run around all over to place to find someone after the fact wasn't good. Not for myself, nor for others too.
But I never thought her doing so was silly, because back in my home town, in order to not make her mother worried when we lived in that foreign village, I would also plaster a smile on my face before I went back home.
I told my teacher about these things, I told her the severity of my concerns. But all she said to me was "it was just harmless pranks, just a game, they were just having fun."
This was the museum where my mother was employed.
I tried treating them with indifference, but it only made them become more aggressive.
Kind of, because when it came to matters of the heart, I had started quite late. In the village, I had to always take care of my mother when she drank herself in daze. Then everyday, I was with her learning Chinese or learning to cook. Then in the Diamond Capital, to deal with the spoiled trust-fund babies, I spent all my free time getting into fights.
In that school I did have one friend I had grown up with, and he was a nice guy. He tried to reason with the others, but it managed to kindle the rebellious nature in some fools.
A life with no setbacks, no unpleasantness at any time.
With every civilised method not garnering a solution, the only recourse I had left was the use of force.
But I never thought her doing so was silly, because back in my home town, in order to not make her mother worried when we lived in that foreign village, I would also plaster a smile on my face before I went back home.
During the next vacation period, I cut the hair that fell down to my waist and a guy who was our neighbour to teach me how to fight, and anyone who dared point a finger my way from then on was going to get a taste of my fist.
But at the Diamond Capital, I was enrolled into an international school. There, the main language was English, and a lot of the other students there had come from other European countries where English was the mother tongue, too.
During the next vacation period, I cut the hair that fell down to my waist and a guy who was our neighbour to teach me how to fight, and anyone who dared point a finger my way from then on was going to get a taste of my fist.
In addition to that, I grew up some more in those past couple of years, so there were a lot of people trying get me to on dates. And because of this, there were times where I didn't need to lift a hand, since there were others who were willing to do the beatings.
iana: this extra doesn't mean the story's done. There's still eight main chapters to go.
On our way back to our room, she walked behind me, quietly, like a little kid. I didn't bully her, or want it to look like like I did, so I asked her to just walk beside me...
There are times when I would walk into class to see my name scratched onto the blackboard quite repulsively every single day. There were other times when I was walking people would point and jeer. I would find my drawer under my desk was filled with bananas. I would find my workbooks gone.
But at the Diamond Capital, I was enrolled into an international school. There, the main language was English, and a lot of the other students there had come from other European countries where English was the mother tongue, too.
If there was any sword or armour I could use to protect myself, I wouldn't think twice about putting such things to use.
I liked girls.
And after the third time my friend and I trashed the cafeteria in an act of self-defence, that was what it took for all the teachers to finally declare again and again that discrimination was prohibited in our school.
Yu Xiaoya, well, she had become my roommate. She was a girl that gave the same air as a stream, one shallow and clear, where everything lying at the bottom can be easily seen.
My school had one of the best university preparatory systems in the country, and less than fifteen percent of students could achieve a grade of eight when the highest was ten and the lowest was one. Yet, in all of my subjects, I got nines, nine-point-fives, and even tens.
In my third year of middle school, I was already quite proficient at fighting, so no one dared to throw anything my way again.
Yu Xiaoya, I didn't even know her name back then. The first time I really paid attention to her was when she used her hands to pat her cheeks, did her best to make her expression look more natural, and waved goodbye to her parents as the corner's of her mouth tugged themselves upwards mechanically.
The first time I saw Yu Xiaoya was on the bus we were taking to winter camp that year. Her eyes were fleshed red and she was leaning on the back of the seat in front of her crying.
But there wasn't any girls who had caught my eye. That last year of middle school, there was a ball. At the dance, there was a competition where every student voted for a king and queen, and even though I danced with none of the boys there, I was voted their queen.
Well, that should be after we had left that village and I started middle school. My mother had to move to A-City, a city known as the "Diamond Capital"T/n: I believe this is Amsterdam.. I had grown up in that small village, so, naturally, I spoke Dutch most of the time while my mother taught me a bit of Chinese.
The teachers in the Netherlands were quite fair in assigning grades. Before exams they would give minor stumbling blocks like switching up the main points, or missing out one or two people when it came to distributing the materials for the group, but so long as you had completed all your homework and scored well on exams, even if it was just one-tenth of a point, they would not cheat it from you.
During the day, I attended a kindergarten in that village. There weren't a lot of people with jet-black hair and eyes there so people were amazed when they laid eyes on me. But, apart from two little boys who thought I was cute and fought over my hand in marriage in the future (making me famous in that village), everything else about my life there went off without a hitch.
In my third year of middle school, I was already quite proficient at fighting, so no one dared to throw anything my way again.
Her parents were an ordinary couple, with her father seeming like a really gentle man while her mother gave the air of someone who was serious.
Even when I was the first to arrive at the cafeteria, I would still end up being the one who was served her lunch last.
But that year, my mother had suddenly asked, "Do you want to go back to China?"
N/A
And after the third time my friend and I trashed the cafeteria in an act of self-defence, that was what it took for all the teachers to finally declare again and again that discrimination was prohibited in our school.
In addition to that, I grew up some more in those past couple of years, so there were a lot of people trying get me to on dates. And because of this, there were times where I didn't need to lift a hand, since there were others who were willing to do the beatings.
To which I said, it wasn't necessary, because Yu Xiaoya was good. I was fine with spending the rest of the time at the winter camp with both of us sharing a room.
I liked girls.
I really liked those gatherings. Because sometimes they would be a beer party, and at other times it could one revolving around seafood.
Was this the most prolific thing I did in middle-school? Teaching some students to respect others?
But there wasn't any girls who had caught my eye. That last year of middle school, there was a ball. At the dance, there was a competition where every student voted for a king and queen, and even though I danced with none of the boys there, I was voted their queen.
But I never told her, she was just a stranger after all.
At least, that was how it was until that teacher from the camp had arranged for her and me to share the same room.
The other time when the theme was seafood, the fish was fresh and cheap because the village wasn't too far from the sea.
N/A
As for "that"?
But I never told her, she was just a stranger after all.
Kind of, because when it came to matters of the heart, I had started quite late. In the village, I had to always take care of my mother when she drank herself in daze. Then everyday, I was with her learning Chinese or learning to cook. Then in the Diamond Capital, to deal with the spoiled trust-fund babies, I spent all my free time getting into fights.
So when was it that things had changed, you ask?
So when was it that things had changed, you ask?
My memories were from my time in the Netherlands, in that ordinary little village. Many of the people living there new each other, and apart from me and my mother, there were no other immigrants.
So after all these things went down, I thought I'd find some handsome football captain and we'd fall in love like they do in those American dramas. But... around that time, I started to realise I didn't seem to like boys.
During the next vacation period, I cut the hair that fell down to my waist and a guy who was our neighbour to teach me how to fight, and anyone who dared point a finger my way from then on was going to get a taste of my fist.
It was like how you would appreciate galloping steed, and could even manage to be very fond of it. But despite those affections, that was as far as it went, because there was no way you could ever want to have sеx with it.
On a hillside in beside that village, a museum was built on the slope. It was the site of a famous battle and housed memorabilia from the second world war, so it was a museum that was widely known. But due to there not being many large cities nearby, not many people went there for a tour.
It was like how you would appreciate galloping steed, and could even manage to be very fond of it. But despite those affections, that was as far as it went, because there was no way you could ever want to have sеx with it.
But I never told her, she was just a stranger after all.
If at that I had ended up rooming with any other person, I would've flatly refused. It was only because it was her that I had agreed to it. And given the kind of sensitive girl she was, if I had up and left the next day, who knows what she would think.
But I never told her, she was just a stranger after all.
I liked girls.
The teachers in the Netherlands were quite fair in assigning grades. Before exams they would give minor stumbling blocks like switching up the main points, or missing out one or two people when it came to distributing the materials for the group, but so long as you had completed all your homework and scored well on exams, even if it was just one-tenth of a point, they would not cheat it from you.
The other time when the theme was seafood, the fish was fresh and cheap because the village wasn't too far from the sea.
I tried treating them with indifference, but it only made them become more aggressive.
Security-wise, the village was very safe, too. So even if the adults and kids got tipsy, nothing bad would happen. Once, my mother had even offered me a sip of beer, and for the life of me, I couldn't understand why so many people would want to drink such a horrid tasting thing, gulping it all down just after one sip, and also doing so with no regrets.
With regard to English, I was neither bad nor good at it.
After we got to room 201, I inspected the facilities in the room as usual. It had always been a habit of mine, regardless of what I do. I needed to be prepared in advanced in case something bad did happen, because run around all over to place to find someone after the fact wasn't good. Not for myself, nor for others too.
In my third year of middle school, I was already quite proficient at fighting, so no one dared to throw anything my way again.
But there wasn't any girls who had caught my eye. That last year of middle school, there was a ball. At the dance, there was a competition where every student voted for a king and queen, and even though I danced with none of the boys there, I was voted their queen.
I tried treating them with indifference, but it only made them become more aggressive.
They called me "queen", others called me "goddess".
Yu Xiaoya, I didn't even know her name back then. The first time I really paid attention to her was when she used her hands to pat her cheeks, did her best to make her expression look more natural, and waved goodbye to her parents as the corner's of her mouth tugged themselves upwards mechanically.
Security-wise, the village was very safe, too. So even if the adults and kids got tipsy, nothing bad would happen. Once, my mother had even offered me a sip of beer, and for the life of me, I couldn't understand why so many people would want to drink such a horrid tasting thing, gulping it all down just after one sip, and also doing so with no regrets.
N/A
To which I said, it wasn't necessary, because Yu Xiaoya was good. I was fine with spending the rest of the time at the winter camp with both of us sharing a room.
On a hillside in beside that village, a museum was built on the slope. It was the site of a famous battle and housed memorabilia from the second world war, so it was a museum that was widely known. But due to there not being many large cities nearby, not many people went there for a tour.
But I never told her, she was just a stranger after all.
After we got to room 201, I inspected the facilities in the room as usual. It had always been a habit of mine, regardless of what I do. I needed to be prepared in advanced in case something bad did happen, because run around all over to place to find someone after the fact wasn't good. Not for myself, nor for others too.
So, I guess in my own way, I had completely conquered that place.
But that year, my mother had suddenly asked, "Do you want to go back to China?"
In addition to that, I grew up some more in those past couple of years, so there were a lot of people trying get me to on dates. And because of this, there were times where I didn't need to lift a hand, since there were others who were willing to do the beatings.
My memories were from my time in the Netherlands, in that ordinary little village. Many of the people living there new each other, and apart from me and my mother, there were no other immigrants.
So after all these things went down, I thought I'd find some handsome football captain and we'd fall in love like they do in those American dramas. But... around that time, I started to realise I didn't seem to like boys.
But the about fairytales is that they only exist in people's minds.
But I never thought her doing so was silly, because back in my home town, in order to not make her mother worried when we lived in that foreign village, I would also plaster a smile on my face before I went back home.
Although my father can't be considered a good father in the general sense, he did respect me, so he never thought of my opinions as merely those of a petulant child and considered my feelings. He knew I didn't want to spend the New Year's festival at his house, so he signed up for the winter camp on my behalf. He was also aware that I didn't like staying in the same room as strangers, so he had contacted the school and had a single room arranged for me.
In the end, the school I attended was a six year university prep one and I had three years remaining.
Although my father can't be considered a good father in the general sense, he did respect me, so he never thought of my opinions as merely those of a petulant child and considered my feelings. He knew I didn't want to spend the New Year's festival at his house, so he signed up for the winter camp on my behalf. He was also aware that I didn't like staying in the same room as strangers, so he had contacted the school and had a single room arranged for me.
Kind of, because when it came to matters of the heart, I had started quite late. In the village, I had to always take care of my mother when she drank herself in daze. Then everyday, I was with her learning Chinese or learning to cook. Then in the Diamond Capital, to deal with the spoiled trust-fund babies, I spent all my free time getting into fights.
At any rate, my life was no fairytale, and when I saw Xiaoya back then I was reminded of my former self. It was a far from pleasant period in my life, but it was nonetheless one that was real.
But that year, my mother had suddenly asked, "Do you want to go back to China?"
But that year, there seemed to have been a mistake.
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