She stared at herself in the mirror. Her decaying face resembled a shattered mask, and beneath that mask, something far more real was beginning to surface.
Early summer, 1980. The parasol trees lining the streets of Shanghai rustled in the wind like thousands of trembling hands applauding. Their shadows slanted across the colonial-era villas along Fuxing Road, leaving bruised marks of uneven darkness on the weathered gray plaster walls. In the distance, factory chimneys exhaled murky fog, blurring the skyline into jagged smudges.
Eight-year-old Bai Ye lay bored at the second-floor window, watching the hurried passersby. She wore a white dress, her twin braids hanging neatly over her shoulders. She looked like a delicate porcelain doll.
"Yezi, come down and have some watermelon!" her mother, Li Zhen, called from downstairs.
Bai Ye pouted and didn't respond right away. She was fixated on the building across the street—specifically, on a girl named Zhou Xiaomei, her most despised classmate. Yesterday, Zhou Xiaomei was praised by their teacher and showed off a brand-new tin pencil box with a Sailor Moon design, drawing envious looks from all the girls in class.
Bai Ye's fingers drummed unconsciously on the windowsill. She also had a pencil box—more expensive and prettier than Zhou Xiaomei's—but that was last week. Now all the attention was on that stupid new one.
"Yezi!" Her mother's voice came closer, accompanied by the sound of footsteps on the stairs.
"Coming." Bai Ye turned around, a sweet smile already fixed on her face.
Downstairs in the living room, her father, Bai Hua, was reading the newspaper. On the small table in front of him sat neatly sliced watermelon. He was a district education bureau official, wearing gold-rimmed glasses that gave him a cultured, scholarly look.
"Daddy." Bai Ye ran over and nestled beside his leg.
"Finished your homework?" Bai Hua put down his newspaper and patted his daughter's head.
"All done." Bai Ye blinked her large eyes. "Daddy, Zhou Xiaomei from our class got a new pencil box. It's really pretty."
Bai Hua smiled. "Does our little Yezi want a new pencil box too?"
"No…" Bai Ye lowered her head, her voice taking on a pitiful tone. "During recess today, Zhou Xiaomei said my pencil box looks like something a capitalist's daughter would use. She said our family must have problems…"
"What?" Li Zhen had just walked in and exploded upon hearing this. "That Zhou girl dared say that? Her family's just an ordinary worker household! What gives her the right to talk about ours?"
Bai Hua frowned. "Yezi, did Zhou Xiaomei really say that?"
Bai Ye nodded, her eyes already glistening with tears—one of her best tricks. Within five seconds, she could summon tears on command.
"Outrageous!" Li Zhen's face turned red with anger. "I'll go find her homeroom teacher tomorrow!"
"Zhen, don't rush," Bai Hua said calmly. "Kids say all sorts of things. Yezi, what else did Zhou Xiaomei say?"
"She said... since our family is so rich, it must be from corruption... and that she's going to report Daddy…"
That sentence lit a fire in Li Zhen's chest. Bai Hua's expression grew serious. In 1980s China, even a child's accusation like that could cause trouble.
"I'm definitely going to the school tomorrow!" Li Zhen declared.
Bai Hua thought for a moment and nodded. "Alright. But handle it carefully."
Bai Ye buried her face in her mother's arms, a sly smile curling at her lips. Zhou Xiaomei had never said any of that—but it didn't matter. What mattered was that tomorrow, Zhou Xiaomei would be in trouble. And that pretty pencil box… Bai Ye already had a plan.
The next morning, Bai Ye arrived at the classroom half an hour earlier than usual. The room was empty. Sunlight streamed through the windows, lighting up Zhou Xiaomei's desk
Bai Ye crept over and took a hammer from her bag—stolen from the family's toolbox the night before.
Zhou Xiaomei's desk drawer wasn't locked. Bai Ye opened it. The shiny new pencil box lay inside. She pulled it out, placed it on the floor, and smashed it hard. The tin dented with a loud crack; Sailor Moon's face was mangled beyond recognition.
Satisfied, Bai Ye placed the ruined pencil box back in the drawer and quietly slipped the hammer into class monitor Liu Ming's schoolbag.
Before class started, Zhou Xiaomei's sobs filled the room. When the homeroom teacher, Mr. Zhang, investigated, Bai Ye was the first to provide a "clue."
"Teacher, I saw Liu Ming sneaking around Zhou Xiaomei's desk this morning…" Bai Ye said innocently. "He took something out of his bag too…"
The hammer was found in Liu Ming's schoolbag. Although he insisted he was innocent, he was made to stand through an entire lesson. Bai Ye, on the other hand, was praised for "bravely reporting" the incident.
At noon, Li Zhen showed up at the school, just as expected. She lodged a formal complaint with the teacher, demanding that Zhou Xiaomei's parents apologize for "slandering a cadre's family." In the end, under pressure from the teacher, Zhou Xiaomei tearfully apologized to Bai Ye, though she had no idea what she'd done wrong.
After school, Bai Ye approached her and whispered, "Your pencil box was ugly anyway. It's better broken."
Zhou Xiaomei stared at her in shock, unable to believe the sweet, well-behaved girl in front of her could say something so cruel.
Bai Ye smiled sweetly. "If you tell anyone, I'll say you stole my fountain pen. My mom will believe me. Guess who the teacher will believe?"
That evening, the dinner table was filled with dishes Li Zhen had carefully prepared—she always "celebrated" when something happened in the family.
"Yezi, if anyone bullies you, you must tell Mommy right away, okay?" Li Zhen said, putting a piece of braised pork in her daughter's bowl.
Bai Hua adjusted his glasses. "Yezi, listen to Dad. You can talk to teachers or us when there's a problem—but don't make things up. Did Zhou Xiaomei really say those things?"
Bai Ye's chopsticks paused, and her eyes immediately welled with tears. "Daddy doesn't believe me?"
"What's that supposed to mean?" Li Zhen snapped. "Our Yezi is such a good girl. How could she lie? That Zhou girl obviously comes from a bad family!"
Bai Hua sighed and said no more. This kind of scene happened often. Every time he tried to correct their daughter, his wife would jump in to defend her. Eventually, he stopped trying.
Bai Ye kept her head down, eating silently. No one noticed the smug smile creeping across her lips. She had discovered that if she looked innocent enough, and cried fast enough, adults would believe anything. And her mother would always take her side.
That night, Bai Ye stood before her full-length mirror, studying her angelic face. At eight years old, she had porcelain skin, eyes like black grapes, and lips like tiny cherries—anyone would be charmed by her.
In 1982, Shanghai's rainy season clung to everything like a greasy film that couldn't be washed away. Ten-year-old Bai Ye crouched in front of the glass counter at "Wenhua Stationery Store," her small, dirt-stained hands gripping the hem of her dress tightly. Her eyes scanned past erasers printed with Astro Boy and pencils smelling of fresh wood, locking on a gold-plated fountain pen at the very back of the display.
Sunlight streamed through the narrow window, reflecting off the pen cap in a sharp flash—like a blade cutting through the shop's gloom.
"If you want something, say it. Don't just touch everything." The shopkeeper, Old Wu, looked up from behind his newspaper, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed tea.
Bai Ye tasted blood. She had bitten the inside of her cheek. From the next-door fabric store came the faint sound of her mother haggling over prices—its familiarity gave her courage.
The pen lay nestled in red velvet. Its body was engraved with fine spirals. Bai Ye wiped her sweaty palms on her skirt three times. When Old Wu turned to fetch a notebook, she slipped the pen into her left sock in a flash. The cold metal slid down her ankle like a bullet. She could feel the pulse at her temples pounding, like a caged beast ramming against her skull.
"You little brat, running off again!" Li Zhen burst through the plastic curtain, holding a bundle of new fabric. Bai Ye stood still, her right leg trembling slightly. Old Wu suddenly put down his paper and sniffed the air like a hyena catching a scent. "Where's that pen of mine?"
The pen in her sock suddenly felt scorching hot. Her mother's eyes scanned her tense little face, then stepped forward and yanked her ear. "Did you mess with something again?" Her nails dug deep into Bai Ye's skin—but with her other hand, she gave a subtle pat on the girl's back.
That was the signal—the key to unlock her chains. Bai Ye burst into tears. "I only touched it…"
Old Wu's suspicious gaze flicked between mother and daughter. Li Zhen suddenly yanked open Bai Ye's collar, checked her pockets, and even pulled off her shoes, shaking them upside down. The pen dropped onto the newly bought fabric with a clink.
"What a disgrace…" Li Zhen muttered, skillfully shielding Old Wu's view. "We may be poor, but we don't steal!" She wrapped the fabric around her daughter's trembling shoulders. Out of sight, Bai Ye caught a glimpse of her mother's mouth curling into a twisted, wrinkled smile.
That night, Bai Ye lay at the table, copying text with the stolen pen. Her father returned home exhausted—over the past two years, their family's financial collapse had been a slow suffocation.
"A new pen?" His rough fingers stroked the gold-plated cap.
"Teacher Zhang gave it to me," Bai Ye replied smoothly, her tongue gliding over her teeth. "I won first place in the writing contest."
Bai Hua's hollow eyes lit up. He reached into a woven bag and pulled out a plastic hairclip. "Daddy should reward you too."
The gaudy pink bow glistened under the fluorescent light, sticky with cheap shine.