For the next fifteen years, I treated her as badly as ever.

But Qin Jiao clung to me like a piece of adhesive plaster. No matter how much I beat or scolded her, she timidly looked at me, with a pitiful expression of wanting to get close to me but not daring to.

During the time when Dad passed away, I once wanted to die, even thought about taking Dad's inheritance and perishing with everyone else.

It was Qin Jiao who stopped me and held this family together.

She went in my place to drink with Dad's business partners, running around all day, pleading and begging, personally reclaiming all the property rights, but insisting that I sign the inheritance documents.

I realized she was like a little dog.

If you hit or scold her, she might get angry, but she will never leave you. But if you give her a piece of candy, she will remember it forever, even hold you in her heart.

Sometimes, I also wonder if Qin Jiao is my family.

I don't know the answer to this question, but every time winter comes, only Qin Jiao and I huddle together for warmth. She curls up in my arms and sleeps, making me feel dazed.

If my younger sister were still alive, she would be about the same age as Qin Jiao now.

Just thinking about this fills me with nameless anger. The more I look at Qin Jiao, the more annoying she becomes. I wish I could make her die.

Later, I gave her to my first business partner.

When she was being taken away, Qin Jiao still thought I would come to save her. She desperately called my name, trying to summon her beloved brother whom she trusted so much.

I heard it, but I didn't move a step.

That afternoon, I stood there motionless until the last rays of the setting sun disappeared, and only then did I suddenly wake up.

Qin Jiao's body was dirty, her neck and wrists were covered in bruises, and she looked in pain.

She was asleep, her innocent face like an angel's. I carried her home, tears flowing onto her skirt.

I have a sickness, but Qin Jiao doesn't know.

Similar to her idealized Dr. Qin, we both suffer from severe hereditary schizophrenia. After he died, I developed bipolar disorder.

I was afraid that when she opened her eyes, she would curse and hate me. I was afraid that her eyes, so perceptive of everything, would be filled with hatred, and that she would never call me brother again.

But she said, "Brother, as long as you're happy."

Qin Jiao, why don't you hate me?

Qin Jiao, I dislike you.