It turned out that Đổng Bằng only resembled the illegitimate son of the Gu family patriarch. The real illegitimate son, seen as a threat, had long been eliminated by the Gu family. To give the patriarch peace in his final moments, they hired Đổng Bằng—who looked 90% similar—to act the part. After the patriarch passed, the Gu family quickly dismissed Đổng Bằng with a flimsy excuse, reducing him back to a penniless hoodlum. By the time news of this spread, the two people imprisoned had already been executed by lethal injection.
12.
With Kim Thiên Thiên free from worries, she skipped the remaining exams entirely. I, on the other hand, finished the tests quickly. Aside from the essay, which I wasn’t sure about, everything else was flawless. When results were released, my mother eagerly entered Kim Thiên Thiên’s exam ID—only for her smile to freeze. Zeros. Zeros everywhere. A pitiful few single-digit scores dotted the otherwise blank slate.
'This system must be broken! How could they mix up my daughter’s scores with someone else’s?' She immediately called the hotline, berating the客服. But the answer was clear: those were Kim Thiên Thiên’s actual results. Impossible! She smashed a vase on the table, shards flying. 'Kim Thiên Thiên, get over here!'
Kim Thiên Thiên sauntered in, unfazed, and draped her mother with gold necklaces and bracelets she’d prepared. 'Where’d you get this money?!' her mother snapped. 'Forget that—look at your grades! Even stepping on the answer sheet would’ve gotten you more right!'
'Mom, only ordinary people need exams to change their fate,' Kim Thiên Thiên said, shoving an LV limited-edition bag into her hands. 'I’ve already got a backer. I’m about to soar!' Skeptical but curious, her mother demanded, 'Don’t get scammed. Bring him here so I can vet him.'
Kim Thiên Thiên grinned, leading her mother to the window. A red Porsche 911 gleamed in their shabby neighborhood, drawing stares. 'He’s waiting downstairs.' Her mother’s wrinkles bunched into a smile. She wanted to meet this 'golden goose' immediately, but Kim Thiên Thiên turned to me. 'Wait, Mom—did you check *her* scores? She always handed in early. Must’ve aced it.'
She snatched my exam ID and typed it in. The blank screen reflected in her eyes. 'Did you forget to write your name, sis? Or just waste our money for fun?' Mom raised her hand to strike me—until the doorbell rang.
Thinking it was her wealthy suitor, she smoothed her hair and opened the door. Two teachers stood there. 'We’re here to discuss Kim Thiên Thiên’s university preferences.'
'You’ve got the wrong person. She has no scores,' Mom said, slamming the door. 'I’m Kim Thiên Thiên,' I interjected. 'Acting won’t save you,' Kim Thiên Thiên sneered—until she googled the visitors. They were the presidents of Tsinghua and Peking University! 'It’s remarkable you achieved so much in this environment,' one said, eyeing my family’s hostility. 'We hope they won’t hold you back.'
Kim Thiên Thiên bolted, dragging her mother outside. Vanity soon overshadowed her defeat. As the Porsche roared away, I smiled. *Enjoy it while it lasts, little sister.*
13.
Mom adored her new 'son-in-law.' They returned daily with armfuls of luxury goods. Kim Thiên Thiên flaunted her bags: 'This costs more than you’ll earn in years.' 'Mind if I look?' I asked. 'You’ve got so many—losing one won’t hurt.'
She handed it over. The mismatched lining and missing hardware were obvious. 'This is fake,' I said. 'The官网 photos don’t match.' I snapped pictures as she yanked it back. 'What do you know, pauper?'
Online, the post went viral. Comments flooded in: 'This is a refurbished二手 bag.' I pretended to be Kim Thiên Thiên, insisting it was new. A user named 'Ms. Gu' topped the replies: 'Isn’t this the bag I trashed last week? You actually dug it out?'
When Kim Thiên Thiên saw the post, she recognized her 'new' bag immediately.
