I was Jiang Zhiyao. I had an older brother I had never gotten along with since childhood.
By "not getting along," I did not mean that our relationship was bad. It meant there was simply no impression, no sense of substance to it.
He was like an NPC under the same roof who happened to bear the title of "older brother."
When I first got to know him as a child, I barely spoke to him. Perhaps he noticed my cold attitude too, and so for quite a long time, the number of exchanges between us could be counted on one hand.
Our personalities could not have been more different. Though it was a little embarrassing to admit, I had been quite a quiet girl as a child.
When children my age played and roughhoused, I would always watch them quietly from the perspective of an outsider, deriving an especially clear-headed sense of superiority from it.
I regarded it as a rather interesting game.
Looking back now, it was truly an unbearable memory.
In short, throughout my childhood, I had remained out of place among my peers for a long time.
In contrast to me, Jiang Linyuan—my older brother in name—got along well with everyone.
No matter where he went, there would always be many friends around him, their laughter never ceasing.
He was probably the kind of person people called the leader of the kids.
For a long time, he was my subject of observation, and I often amused myself with it.
I had once gloomily thought that someone who only knew how to play like him must have terrible grades and would surely be harshly scolded by our parents when he got home.
To my childhood self, the scariest thing was being criticized by family members or teachers.