Chapter 3

Being able to watch people's expressions was the most crucial survival skill. This was a concept I had understood since I was a child.

The moment I entered this house, I quickly managed to figure out the connections I had to make. I knew who under this roof I had to gain the favour of the most.

It wasn't that puke-inducing father of mine, nor that cunning stepmother. Rather, it was this Didi.

From the first day I arrived here, he kept showing me everything this family had prepared for me – the bookshelf, the study desk, and the bedroom that used to completely belong to him, all halved for me.

He said, "Ge, I still have a present for you."

He appeared like he had been looking forward to me coming here for a long time.

These two had really brought their child up well. From the age of ten, he already knew how to be fake.

Yan Yang gave me a keychain. He said he had made it himself. It was just a few thick colourful strings tied together in a knot, so I didn't know how he could call this thing a 'keychain', but to me, this wasn't the important part. Rather, it was the key attached to it.

He said, "Ge, this is our house key. Dad asked me to give it to you."

"Also!" He acted mysterious, taking out a very small and thin metal key from his pocket and handing it to me, "This is the key to the drawer under the table."

I didn't need his drawer, nor did I need his keychain. Of the precious things he had given to me, I only wanted to keep the house key, but even if I didn't like these gifts, I knew I couldn't show it. I, who was living under the roof of another, had to make the precious baby of the household happy.

I did my best to appear sincere, smiling as I thanked him and accepted his gift.

Perhaps he was naturally stupid, genuinely thinking I was a good person.

Yan Yang pulled me by the hand out of the bedroom, telling me, "Ge, I'll play a song on the piano for you."

So the reason why he had dressed up so nicely today was for this performance.

The living room was very big. Aside from the usual furniture, there was also a piano there.

He pulled me over, but the moment he sat down, his mother called us back.

She was asking us to go eat.

Yan Yang seemed a bit crestfallen, pouting slightly. I consoled him, "It's okay, you can play for me after we eat."

At the side, my dad said as though he was immensely proud of himself, "Looks like this pair of brothers get along quite well."

It was indeed quite well – no, not just quite well, but to be very well.

There was no need for them to worry; I would definitely pamper and dote on this precious Didi of mine.

This meal was rather awkward for me, but I had no choice but to tolerate it.

Just the four of us ate together. It wasn't like there was an audience, so their act of being overly attentive made me feel incredibly uncomfortable. Yan Yang and his mum, in particular, were especially overboard, putting food in my bowl non-stop as though they were deathly afraid that people would think that they weren't treating me well.

Who in the world were they putting on this act for?

But oh, how obedient I was. I had no choice but to be their good son and older brother, doing whatever they asked of me. In the end, I ate too much and vomited.

My dad nagged my stepmother, "Next time, don't force him to eat. It's not like he's stupid; he knows how much to eat."

My stepmother was actually a good-tempered person, pouring a cup of water for me and phoning the doctor when she saw me in discomfort.

Yan Yang anxiously stood by the side. I was seriously feeling unwell, but I still had to think of how to make him feel better.

I tugged at his hand and said, "Ge isn't feeling well; why don't you play a song for Ge?"

A smile spread across Yan Yang's face. Without another word, he ran over and sat on the piano stool.

The sofa was so soft that I felt like my whole body was sinking into it. As I sat there, I watched him lift the piano lid with my dad's help and flip open the score.

I had absolutely no understanding of the piano, and was even more ignorant of piano scores. I only knew that this thing was expensive, something that a person like me could never even dare to dream of having.

He wore a pretty little blouse and sat there playing the expensive piano, an elegant tune I couldn't understand flowing from his fingers. In contrast, the only instrument I, who wore old school uniforms and had never seen the real world outside, had ever owned was a bamboo flute I had picked up lying next to a rubbish bin.

That flute was later on thrown away by me anyway because it became a weapon my mum hit me with.

I didn't know how to distinguish between good and bad piano playing, nor did I know how to appreciate a musical piece.

I only knew that many years later, when Yan Yang was nineteen, as he sat on my lap and played this piece again, he could only play it halfway before having to stop because I was fucking him until he could no longer press down on the keys.