When one was young, ten days felt very short—especially when those ten days were stacked with the words “summer vacation,” so short it was almost nothing.

In the summer vacation of her second year of high school, there were ten days off, from July 9 to July 18. Even now, Jin Zhao still clearly remembered the scene of wailing and lamentation in the classroom when Chen Shu announced the news.

At that time, Jin Zhao also felt that ten days of summer vacation were too short, but she never dreamed that those ten days would also be so long, that so many things would happen…

She clearly remembered that day—her aunt’s family came to the house. Her aunt and uncle were both teachers. They took advantage of the same summer vacation to go on a self-driving trip with their cousin, passing through Suiyi and stopping by to visit relatives. Her aunt’s family was always very considerate in etiquette. They prepared gifts for Grandpa and Grandma, Jin Wenhui, Lin Yao, Jin Zhao, and the newborn little brother—there were even gifts for the unborn fetus in Lin Yao’s belly. In addition, they had specially asked someone in the countryside to buy a free-range chicken.

The chicken soup made from free-range chicken was especially delicious, particularly when it had just been ladled out hot from the clay pot. Jin Zhao was greedy that day and went into the kitchen several times in a row to ladle soup from the pot. In the end, she drank several bowls of soup and barely ate any rice.

That day, the whole family gathered briefly. Her aunt and uncle chatted about recent happenings and teased the children. The atmosphere was harmonious and pleasant. Jin Zhao was also very happy—she had liked her aunt ever since she was little.

However, her aunt’s family did not stay long. In the afternoon, everyone sat together and chatted for a while before they continued on their journey.

The wind and rain came that night.

It must have been the latter half of the night. Jin Zhao was sleeping hazily when she was awakened by the commotion outside. She heard Jin Wenhui calling out to Grandpa and Grandma. Auntie Niu was hurriedly packing things as well. It seemed the noise had woken the little brother—the baby’s cries were piercing.

She struggled to get up to see what was happening. When she pulled open her bedroom door, Jin Wenhui, Lin Yao, and Grandma had just gone out. In the living room, Auntie Niu was holding the baby and coaxing him, while Grandpa sat on the sofa, his expression looking grave.

“What’s wrong?” Jin Zhao walked over and asked softly.

Auntie Niu glanced at her, said nothing, and carried the baby back to the room.

Grandpa said, “It’s nothing. Go back to sleep.”

After that, Jin Zhao couldn’t fall asleep again.

That night, there was a very strong wind outside. The wind rushed between the buildings, letting out a mournful, wailing howl.

Jin Wenhui and Lin Yao did not return until dawn.

The cleaning aunties in the residential compound began sweeping the courtyard. Soon after, elderly ladies came out together to walk their dogs and stroll in the garden. Occasionally, they wandered beneath Jin Zhao’s building, and their idle chatter drifted up to her room.

Whose son had fallen in love, the girl’s family demanded a bride price of such-and-such amount, and it fell through; whose mother-in-law didn’t get along with her daughter-in-law—the mother-in-law helped take care of her daughter’s child but not her son’s; and whose son, after graduating from university, refused to find a job and spent all day at home playing on his phone—while that little girl living across the hall was promising, studied well, was in Class A at the affiliated high school, and in the future would at least make it into a 985…

Amid their gossiping voices, Jin Zhao fell asleep.

Later, she was awakened by the sound of police sirens.

Lin Yao was the one who called the police.

Last night, Lin Yao had started bleeding and was rushed to the hospital in an emergency. The baby’s heartbeat had stopped.

Lin Yao could not accept this reality. She cried bitterly in the hospital and questioned the doctor, but the doctor could not give a reason—there was simply fetal demise. Lin Yao lay in the hospital bed, reflecting for the entire morning. Suddenly, she remembered Jin Zhao constantly going into the kitchen the day before and became convinced that Jin Zhao had put medicine into the soup to cause her miscarriage. She resolutely reported it to the police.

That was the first time Jin Zhao rode in a police car.

She went to the police station to give a statement, while the police investigated and collected evidence. This process was not difficult—everyone had drunk the chicken soup the day before, and everyone was fine. If Jin Zhao had put something in it, it wouldn’t have been possible to target only one person so precisely. But Lin Yao insisted that she had eaten the baby food that her little brother had refused to eat the day before. The baby food had been kept warm in the kitchen the entire time. She accused Jin Zhao of putting the drug into the baby food. The person Jin Zhao had originally wanted to poison was the little brother, but unexpectedly, the little brother did not eat the baby food, and Lin Yao ate it for him instead.

This made things somewhat tricky. Lin Yao’s logic was woven together with coincidences, uncannily like the flawless miscarriage plots in palace intrigue dramas—but the most crucial point was that she had no evidence, and the police did not have a god’s-eye view either.

When in doubt, acquit. Jin Zhao returned home very quickly that same day.

Lin Yao stayed in the hospital for three days.

During those three days, Jin Zhao felt deeply wronged.

She had clearly done nothing, yet the police had come to her door. And the beginning of all this was nothing more than her being greedy for food and making a few extra trips into the kitchen.

How absurd. It was clearly her home as well, yet she could not even enter the kitchen anymore.

Grandma told her that Lin Yao was crying and screaming in grief at the hospital, hoping that Jin Zhao could understand a mother who had lost her child—asking her not to argue with Lin Yao, and not to blame Jin Wenhui for failing to stop her from calling the police.

Jin Zhao nodded. Even after suffering such injustice—although in the end there was no way to prove she had done it, there was also no way to prove she had not. She was so sad; she wanted so badly to cry and scream as well. And she was just a high school student.

She still swallowed her grievance and planned that after Lin Yao was discharged and returned home, she would properly communicate with her, letting her know that she truly had done nothing.

There were many reasons for a miscarriage. It couldn’t be blamed on her just because she was expendable—she couldn’t bear such a human life on her back.

But Lin Yao did not give her the chance.

Somehow, Lin Yao came to know Ji Haoxuan’s mother. During the miscarriage, Ji Haoxuan’s mother went to the hospital to visit her every day. The two of them “found true feelings through hardship” and became inseparable. Ji Haoxuan’s mother showed Lin Yao the discussion post about that “Luoshen” on the affiliated high school forum, and then “casually” mentioned to Lin Yao the origin of Jin Zhao’s silk dress adorned with feathers.

The finale piece of a top luxury fashion show, bought before the runway by a mysterious man and given to Jin Zhao, just so she could wear it to attend an ordinary campus arts festival.

A sixteen-year-old high school girl, an extravagantly expensive designer dress.—Whether it was outdated thinking from ten years ago, or whether society’s prejudice against girls had never fundamentally changed, they so hastily yet so confidently linked Jin Zhao to some sordid, shameful transaction between men and women.

When the information from Ji Haoxuan’s mother, filtered through Lin Yao, reached Jin Wenhui as her father, the Jin household’s real storm arrived.

Jin Wenhui flew into a rage. He questioned Jin Zhao, asking whether the family was lacking in food or clothing for her, that she needed to be so lacking in self-respect—being ambiguously entangled with male classmates and having them bring her breakfast, and then for a dress… It was just for a breakfast, just for a dress!

Jin Zhao held back her grievance and explained gently that the breakfast was eaten by Meng Yanxi, and later Ji Haoxuan’s mother had also demanded and gotten back three thousand yuan from Meng Yanxi. This incident had been photographed by classmates on the spot and was still hanging on the affiliated high school forum. As for the dress, it was a dance costume provided by Meng Yanxi. Every girl in the class who danced had one—it wasn’t just her. They could go ask.

With tears streaming down her face, Jin Zhao said that she didn’t know the dress was so expensive. She would return it to Meng Yanxi—she would give it back to him once school started.

Jin Wenhui said nothing more.

Jin Zhao originally thought that this matter had passed, just like so many things in the past that weren’t really that big. When they happened, they felt like they were going to crush her until she couldn’t breathe, but as long as she endured a little, she could muddle through. And once she had endured it and looked back, it was actually nothing.

She had not expected, however, that this time, after a night of contemplation, Jin Wenhui would throw a destructive bomb into her life.

The next day, Jin Wenhui seemingly open-mindedly sought her out for a talk. He told her that he and Lin Yao had discussed it the night before. This matter really couldn’t be blamed on her—after all, she was still young and couldn’t see through the dangers of this world. As parents, they should protect her even more. So they decided to transfer Jin Zhao to another school, moving her to No. 9 Middle School right by their home, so it would be more convenient for the family to look after her.

Before that day, Jin Zhao had not raised her voice at Jin Wenhui for many, many years. No—more than just Jin Wenhui. She hadn’t raised her voice at anyone for many, many years. But that day, hearing that she was about to be transferred to No. 9 Middle School, Jin Zhao felt as if she were watching an incomparably absurd farce.

She did her utmost to restrain her emotions and asked in return, “Is it difficult to transfer from the affiliated high school to No. 9 Middle School?”

Jin Wenhui thought she was giving in and said, “Not difficult. Very easy.”

Jin Zhao sneered. “Of course. Suiyi Affiliated High is the best high school in the entire province. Transferring from Affiliated High’s Class A to anywhere is easy—let alone to Ninth Middle School full of delinquents. Dad, have you really not considered what kind of future I would have if I went to a school like that?”

Jin Wenhui frowned. “If you’re truly outstanding enough, how could the external environment affect you?”

“External environment…” Jin Zhao was finally pierced by the words. Her voice rose, her eyes reddened, and she loudly questioned Jin Wenhui. “So it’s not that you don’t know what Ninth Middle School is like. If environment really didn’t matter, why would Meng’s mother move three times? Even Mencius needed an environment to lift him up—let alone someone as ordinary as me!”

The patriarchal thinking buried in Jin Wenhui’s bones was immediately provoked, and he retorted in an even louder voice, “Ninth Middle School is still better than you disgracing yourself at Affiliated High!”

Jin Zhao shouted back, “Is it me disgracing myself, or is someone unable to stand seeing me do well!”

“You doing well?” Jin Wenhui mocked. “Where are you doing well—tell me? At attracting a bunch of shady people? You think Meng Yanxi is some good person? He’s nothing but a bastard propped up by the Meng family’s filthy money! At such a young age, he uses any means necessary to fight for the family assets—breaking up his father’s marriage and preventing his father from remarrying. Putting medicine in your aunt’s soup, was that also taught to you by Meng Yanxi?”