The look of disappointment on the boy’s face made Zoe Young’s heart soften. She thought for a moment and said, “Okay, I’ll do it.” Andrew Lane instantly broke into a smile brighter than a flower: “Great, I’ll wait for you!” She stood where she was, watching them leave one by one. Andrew Lane kept looking back every few steps, calling out, “You promised! You can’t go back on your word!” Zoe Young nodded with a smile.

Lowering her head, she saw the calendar girl in her hand, already marked with the imprints of her five fingers. Suddenly, she felt that today’s sunset was especially beautiful.

Her mother thanked Aunt Lucy again and again, then took her to buy a birthday cake, and afterwards they went out to eat at a restaurant. “What’s that?” her mother asked, eyeing the calendar rolled into a long paper tube in her hand. “This is Four Queens,” she said solemnly. “What’s Four Queens?” her mother asked, half amused, half exasperated. Zoe Young lowered her head in thought, then tilted her little head and smiled, her eyes curving. “That’s a secret.”

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3. As Low as Dust

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But the next day, Zoe Young wasn’t able to sneak into the provincial government kindergarten as promised. After all, it wasn’t convenient for her mother to trouble the mailroom’s Granny Lewis again. Zoe Young waited anxiously at home all day, not even knowing herself what exactly she was worried about. Her whole heart was in her throat, beating erratically.

Maybe she just didn’t want to see Andrew Lane’s disappointed face. She liked seeing him pout and act grumpy, but not that disappointed look—like the one he had when he heard her say “no,” with the corners of his eyes and mouth drooping together.

But she couldn’t explain why. Clearly, Alan Carter was just a passing acquaintance, but Zoe Young didn’t feel that Andrew Lane would end up in that “past” cookie tin like him. A big part of her anxiety actually came from her fear of Andrew Lane’s temper—next time they met, he’d definitely yell at her. She was doomed.

This kind of youthful, reasonless trust. Her seventh birthday seemed like a watershed moment; Zoe Young’s life as a little heroine was like a roller coaster, suddenly plunging from the highest point, rushing downward, unstoppable. The sharp turn of fate came from a curse, two low, harsh words. “Bastard.”

The first floor cosmetics section of Central Department Store, fragrant and bright, was the most refined area in the whole mall. Zoe Young felt a burning gaze; when she turned, she saw a woman crouching beside a little boy, whispering something in his ear, her smile beautiful yet vicious.

They walked toward Zoe Young. In that moment, Zoe Young realized that witches really did exist, and so did “petrification spells.” She felt as if her tail had been stepped on, unable to move, not even able to run the short distance to call her mother, who was talking to a counter clerk about new product samples.

Then they brushed past her, leaving behind only a heavy curse and a string of drifting laughter.

It was as if all the bright, gentle spotlights around her had gone blind. Zoe Young felt like she was back in that pitch-black night when she was three. She squatted alone at the door of her home, emptied out for relocation, watching her mother cry and argue in vain, watching a group of strangers laughing and cursing as they smashed and burned all the luggage, newspapers, wood, and odds and ends her mother had painstakingly gathered. As the flames rose, her gaze passed through the air warped by heat, and she saw a twisted woman’s face, holding a boy about her own age, laughing as happily as a demon king who had finally covered every corner of the world in darkness.

Zoe Young knew them—they were her father’s wife and son. What an awkward relationship.

Suddenly, she turned around and looked at the two swaying figures who had just walked a few steps away, and said, not too loudly or softly, “You’ve gained weight.” The woman turned, surprise flashing across her face, as if she didn’t understand what Zoe Young meant or how to respond. The little boy, however, retorted for his mother, full of spirit: “You’re the one who’s fat!”

The words were harmless; Zoe Young didn’t even look at him, just fixed her clear, bright eyes quietly on the woman and said, “I remember you.”

A few bystanders gathered around, watching the three strange people standing motionless. The woman could only snort, grab her son’s hand, and stride away, tossing back, “Just like your mother, you’ll grow up to be a slut!”

Zoe Young’s face was expressionless as she watched her leave, then met the gaze of every onlooker, one by one, until they all looked away.

When her mother finished discussing the new product samples and rebates with the sales clerk, she turned to see Zoe Young slowly walking over from a distance—expressionless, eyes sharp, like Sister Jane heading to her execution.

“Zoe?” her mother asked in confusion. “It’s nothing,” she replied obediently, shaking her head. “Can we go home now?” The next day was Saturday, and that evening the whole family went out to a private room at a seafood restaurant to meet with the family of her late grandfather’s old colleague. Zoe Young seemed unable to shake off the encounter from the day before; in fact, she had no emotion at all, her mood and expression equally wooden.

Boring family gatherings always drag the kids out to liven things up when they get dull. How to perform in such situations is always the hardest problem for children. The always attention-seeking Tina Young was the first to step up, happily singing “Little Little Boy,” her clear child’s voice winning applause all around. She was laughing and acting cute with her parents when the other family’s little granddaughter, not to be outdone, sang a medley of “Seven-Colored Light” and “Little Basket,” clearly trained in vocal music, effortlessly blasting Zoe Young’s eardrums.

Naturally, the adults praised her, and to be polite, Tina Young’s parents even said, “A professional is a professional, she sings much better than our Tilly, who can only fool around for the family…”

What was meaningless small talk to adults was earth-shattering to the kids—Tina Young suddenly stood up, blinking, but under the other girl’s smug, disdainful look, she was left speechless. In her panic, she pointed at Zoe Young—“What about her?!”

The huge round dining table fell silent. Twenty-two people looked at each other, until finally her mother lowered her head and gently asked, “Zoe, do you want to sing?”

Zoe Young was still lost in a void, but snapped out of it and quickly shook her head. “I can’t.” “Come on, sing one!” Tina Young wouldn’t let her off. Her mother smiled and tried to excuse her, but Zoe Young could feel it—her mother was unhappy, very unhappy. But the little star’s mother, the woman who wouldn’t even take off her sunglasses at the table, laughed with a mocking tone, “Kids need to be trained, need to perform in public, be bold and open, you can’t always shelter them. That’s not how you raise a child.”

If everyone has a reverse scale, then for Zoe Young, it’s the people she loves. She can’t let them be bullied or hurt.

Like her mother.

She stood up at once, still wearing the expression of Sister Jane heading to her execution, and looked around. “Fine, I’ll sing.” It turns out, the best way to become strong is to have someone you want to protect. No wonder in cartoons, Seiya always unleashes his cosmos for Athena and his friends. Unfortunately, Zoe Young couldn’t, like the heroes in cartoons or movies, be pushed to the brink, fight back, and amaze everyone, finally seeing the clouds part and the moon shine through.

She was never good at singing. Though she didn’t go off-key, her voice was far from the clear, bright child’s voice expected. In the lavish private room, facing a group of elders and singing “Little Little Boy,” she simply couldn’t manage it.

At least she sang, even if her voice nearly cracked at the chorus. What Zoe Young disliked most was the adults’ insincere praise, the backhanded compliments, the forced smiles that were all too obvious—deliberately so, as if they wanted her to know. She sat down, lowered her head, and her lips curled up without her noticing. That was the first mocking smile Zoe Young ever learned in her life.

It turns out, some Bosses are ones that no matter how hard Seiya tries to unleash his cosmos, he can never defeat. For the first time, Zoe Young began to doubt the rules she’d always followed in her little world.

But when she looked up, she saw Brother Joe from her eldest uncle’s family winking at her. She froze, then burst out laughing—which made Brother Joe sigh in relief. Zoe Young didn’t understand why he tried so hard to cheer her up; wasn’t he the one who disliked her most?

“I think Zoe sings well,” Brother Joe said loudly, picking up a bite of jellyfish salad with vinegar and putting it in his mouth. “These days, who still shouts at the top of their lungs? That’s so tacky.”