Ela é realmente bonita

Chi Xing knew from the age of six that “being beautiful” was a useful thing.

On her sixth birthday, Sun Juanjuan took her to the department store to pick out a gift. She quickly set her sights on a little white gauze dress. The dress came with a woven sapphire-blue tasseled belt, adorned with two diamond-like glass beads—fresh and lovely.

The dress cost three hundred, and the belt was sold separately for fifty extra.

Chi Xing loved the belt and, after trying it on, refused to take it off.

Sun Juanjuan couldn’t bear to spend the extra fifty and tried to persuade her to give up the belt. Chi Xing, using some skill she’d picked up somewhere, began to cry—not wailing, but with her lips pressed tight, her little face flushed, tears rolling down like she’d suffered all the world’s grievances.

There were a few customers standing by the counter. One of them stepped forward and paid for both the dress and the belt. Sun Juanjuan tried to refuse the unexpected kindness, but the person had already left, saying as they went, “A pretty little girl should wear pretty clothes.”

And so, Chi Xing ended up with both the dress and the belt.

She was far too young to understand the deeper meaning behind this unexpected gift. She only remembered her own light steps on the way home, her mother’s sweaty palm, and her mother’s repeated reminders to keep it all a secret—not to let her father know where the dress and belt had come from.

Later, Chi Xing developed a habit of loving white dresses. Her hair was thick, dark, and slightly wavy, her features