Even now, I remembered many things from my childhood. Most of them had something to do with Older Sister. Time had worn away much of the bitterness from those days when we depended on each other for survival, turning them into precious gems glowing with warm light. Each gem contained some trivial little incident—not earth-shattering, not stirring, sometimes no more than an everyday domestic episode—yet to the two of us, they were treasures beyond price.
I still remembered those summer nights. I had only been a little brat of ** years old, and Older Sister had taken up singing. She especially loved singing Soothing Lullabies. Whenever I was about to fall asleep at night, Older Sister would sneak into my room and drag me up to listen to her sing. She practiced for fifteen minutes every time, then went back to her room to sleep, while I became so wide awake that I bounced around the room for ages, unable to fall asleep...
Every night back then, she tormented me terribly. I had always thought Older Sister had been possessed. Only now did this slow-witted little brother vaguely recall that she had actually suffered nightmares every night because of too much pressure. She had merely been trying to bolster her own courage.
Many years later, Older Sister smiled as she brought up those days:
"Back then, I really wanted to sleep in the same room as A Jun again. That house was so big, and sleeping alone was really scary. But I was afraid my little brother would look down on me, so I could only force myself to endure it. After all, I was the one who had said, 'Once boys start school, they're grown men and have to sleep by themselves.'"
Whether Older Sister's advice had worked, or