My mother was obsessed with the concept of a "lucky age," an old superstition that added years to your life based on archaic folk math. When she went to register my eight-year-old brother for his social security number and official birth certificate, she insisted on putting him down as eleven. I thought it was absurd. Knowing it would cause him endless trouble in the future, I fought her tooth and nail, finally convincing her to only inflate his age by two years instead of three. Years later, my brother missed the cutoff for the final round of recruitment for a prestigious Air Force pilot program because he was officially two years too young. My mother told him, "If your sister hadn't stopped me from giving you your full lucky age back then, you'd be the one accepted right now!" Because of that, my brother harbored a deep, simmering hatred for me. He believed I was the one who destroyed his dream of flying. During a hiking trip, he caught me off guard and shoved me off a cliff. My body was shattered on the rocks below, but they took the payout from my life insurance policy and lived a life of luxury. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my mother went to register my brother's official documents. This time, I kept my mouth shut and watched with a smile as she confidently declared his inflated age. 01 "A year from heaven, a year from earth, a year from the father, and a year from the mother. That's how you ensure a long and prosperous life!" "My Jackson is eleven years old this year, that's right! Go ahead and put it down!" The clerk at the Social Security Administration office looked at my brother, who was a full head shorter than kids his supposed age, with an expression of obvious disbelief. She shifted her gaze to me and asked for my brother's birth year one more time, seemingly hoping to hear the correct answer from my mouth. In my previous life, this was the exact moment when I heard the registration year was three whole years earlier than my brother's actual birth year, and I loudly stopped my mother. Back then, neither my brother nor I had been properly registered at birth. It caused a massive headache every time we had to enroll in a new school. It wasn't until last year that my mom finally found a way to get me officially registered. But when she filled out my age, she habitually used that superstitious "lucky age" math. As a result, my official age was a full two years older than my actual age. I was constantly mocked by my classmates as the "dumb giant" or the "old lady." To spare my brother from suffering the same fate, I exhausted myself trying to convince my mother to only inflate his age by two years instead of three. Because of that, my brother actually got along well with his classmates when he started middle school. However, when I caught a severe fever and went to a cheap urgent care clinic, my mother reflexively gave them my "lucky age." This led the doctor to miscalculate my dosage. The IV caused the muscles in my left arm to necrotize, and I could never lift it again. That tragedy served as a wake-up call for my mother and brother, preventing a similar disaster from happening to him. But I never imagined that he would later miss the final Air Force pilot recruitment window because he was officially two years below the minimum age requirement. My brother was devastated and blamed my mother for not registering him as two years older. My mother secretly told him, "I wanted to use your lucky age when I registered you, but your sister stopped me!" "It's my fault for being foolish and listening to your sister's nonsense! Otherwise, you'd definitely be the one admitted right now!" Later, my brother achieved absolutely nothing in life. My mother complained, "It's because your sister changed your age that she ruined your blessings!" Over time, my brother harbored a deep-seated hatred for me, convinced I was the one who ruined his aviation dream and the rest of his life. Later, he invited me on a wilderness hike and shoved me off a cliff when I wasn't looking, leaving my body shattered and unrecognizable. He took the life insurance payout, bought a house, got married, and lived a life of wealth. And my mother, fully aware that he had murdered me, committed perjury to help him escape justice. I thought we at least had some familial love between us, but I didn't know they only wanted to suck me dry. This time, I was going to sit back and watch just how much of a "blessing" my mother's prized lucky age would bring my brother! Facing the clerk's questioning gaze, I just smiled awkwardly and glanced at my mom. My mom impatiently yanked me behind her. "Do you think I don't know how old my own son is? Why are you staring at her?" Seeing my mother's volatile temper, the clerk didn't want to cause a scene and registered the information exactly as she said. Looking at the freshly printed official document, my mother and I both smiled incredibly happily. 02 When we got back home, my brother was in the yard playing Pokémon cards with some neighborhood kids. My mom couldn't wait to pull him in front of her. "Jackson, if anyone asks how old you are this year, what do you say?" My brother was entirely focused on his game and casually replied, "Eight!" My mom's face instantly darkened. She emphasized her tone, "You are eleven this year! How can you not even remember your own age?" My brother struggled to get away so he could go back to playing, answering distractedly, "Okay, okay, I'm eleven." But my mom wasn't going to let him off easily. She closed the front door and asked again, "Now answer me again. How old are you this year?" This finally annoyed my brother. He looked thoroughly displeased. "Eight! Mom, you're being so annoying!" "You ungrateful little brat! I carried you for nine months and brought you into this world, and I'm not even old yet, and you're already sick of me?" Furious, my mom slapped my brother hard on his backside, correcting him while dramatically fake-crying. "You were born in December! Counting from the time you were in the womb, you are eleven this year!" "From now on, if anyone asks, you tell them you're eleven. Do you hear me?!" My brother burst into loud wails and cried out to me for help when he saw me. In my previous life, after my arm was ruined by that injection, I made sure my brother memorized his actual age at all times. From then on, every time he went to the hospital, I was incredibly cautious, ensuring the doctors treated him based on his true age. Later on, I was kicked out of the house by my mother when I was only sixteen. Her beautiful excuse was that she had already raised me to adulthood, and from then on, it was my turn to give back to the family. I was only a sophomore in high school at the time. She forcibly cut off all my living expenses, and my teachers even had to help cover some of my school fees. To survive, I had no energy to focus on my studies. After school, I relied on picking up aluminum cans on the side of the road to sell for scrap just to keep myself alive. I never foolishly hoped that my brother, who had plenty of spending money, would give me any help. But he was even more heartless than I could have imagined. He stole the meager amount of money I had, claiming he was giving it to our mom, but secretly spent it all himself. When my mom found out, not only did she not punish him, but she also said, "The Miller family's money will all belong to my son eventually! What's the big deal if he takes your little bit of cash? It's not even enough to buy him a pair of shoes!" Later on, I graduated from high school with grades only good enough for a second-rate state college. That was the same time my brother missed out on his aviation dream, exactly when his hatred for me was peaking. He and my mother conspired to marry me off to the intellectually disabled son of a local business owner in exchange for a $30,000 dowry. I adamantly refused and fled the house in the middle of the night. But in the end, I was deceived by his fake apology and ended up a corpse in the wilderness. I naively thought I was treating them well, but in their eyes, I was completely worthless. Or rather, in their eyes, I wasn't even fit to be their family member. My only use was to be an ATM. I wanted absolutely nothing to do with a family like this! "Maya, help me!" He hadn't been paying attention to anything my mom said earlier. It was only after getting hit that he frantically blurted out his own age. But he didn't guess the answer that would satisfy my mother, which only fueled her rage, and she hit him even harder. Watching his pleading eyes, I waited until he had taken a sufficient beating before pretending to just figure it out, gesturing to him. "Eleven! Mom, I'm eleven!" Jackson screamed at the top of his lungs. My mom finally stopped, panting heavily. "That's more like it! You just don't remember unless you get hit! If I ask you next time and you forget again, I'll hit you even harder!" Jackson's face showed obvious defiance, but he didn't dare say a word. Only after my mom walked away did he pout and rub his backside as he walked out. At this point, we didn't have much conflict between us, and he didn't forget to thank me: "Good thing you guessed it, Maya, otherwise Mom would have beaten me to death!" I smiled silently, thinking to myself: Some people in this world are just born cheap. They can't tell who is actually good to them! Since he loved hearing lies so much, I would just play along. 03 In my previous life, because I was isolated by my peers, I developed an aversion to school from a young age. Later, because my mom cut off my financial support, even eating became a challenge. At the age when I should have been focusing on school, I was scavenging for trash and finding odd jobs to survive. That's why I couldn't run very far when I tried to escape later. Now, facing the mocking voices of the students around me, I turned a deaf ear. Nothing that happened was going to stop me from studying. Because this was my only hope of escaping this house. In the blink of an eye, the timeline reached the point where the muscles in my left arm had necrotized in my past life. I had been running a high fever for two days and still hadn't recovered. My mom exploded in a rage: "You useless, money-losing burden! All you know is how to eat my food and spend my money! Why don't you just die already!" Her curses and spit rained down on my head. But I was already delirious from the fever, huddled in the corner, completely drained of energy. My lips were pale, but my head was burning like a furnace. She cursed at me, but she wouldn't actually let me die like this. After all, I had cost her so much money, and she hadn't managed to squeeze a single cent of profit out of me yet. When she had cursed to her heart's content, she finally counted out a few twenty-dollar bills and told me to follow her to the nearby urgent care clinic. Once we got there, she just dumped me there alone. In my previous life, I couldn't hold on and passed out. When I woke up, my left arm was already paralyzed. The first thing I saw was my mom arguing with the doctor. That was when I realized she had reported my inflated age. The small clinic used strong dosages to begin with. Faced with a shameless grifter like my mom, and knowing they were at fault for not following proper procedures, they ended up settling the matter by paying my family three thousand dollars. That night, when we got home, I dragged my paralyzed left arm, applying a wet towel to it, and watched my mom make a feast of fish and meat for my brother. Meanwhile, because I had a fever, I only had a bowl of watery oatmeal in front of me. Now, I forced myself to hold on to my last shred of sanity until we reached the clinic. After my mom reported my age and went outside to gossip, I quickly grabbed the doctor's hand and repeatedly told him I was only twelve this year. 04 Fortunately, the tragedy of my past life didn't happen this time. After the IV drip, my fever had mostly subsided. When it came time to pay, my mom scolded me again over a measly thirty dollars. But I tightly clenched my left fist, my heart filled with the joy of successfully resisting my fate. And even more, a sense of anticipation for the future... Because exactly one week after my arm was ruined in my past life, my brother also caught a fever. Back then, my mom indiscriminately pinned the blame on me, insisting I was the one who infected him. But only I knew that my brother had caught the fever after sneaking off to play in the river behind her back. However, out of fear that my mom would punish him, he watched helplessly as I was falsely accused. This time, I absolutely refused to be the scapegoat! When he and a few friends went to play in the water by the river, I secretly hinted to my mom that wild turkeys were ruining the saplings in the field near the riverbank. When she got there, she heard the sounds of my brother and his friends playing in the water nearby. Her eyes went wide, and she hurried over. Sure enough, she saw my brother, completely naked, having a water fight with the neighborhood kids. A few years ago, someone had drowned in that river. Every summer, my mother repeatedly ordered him never to play near it. Seeing this scene now, she no longer cared that my brother was her precious darling. She sternly ordered him out of the water, grabbed him by the ear, and dragged him back home. I waited until my mom closed the door and my brother's screams echoed from inside before I slowly emerged. That evening, just as expected, my brother came down with a fever. Even though my mom was cursing under her breath, she quickly carried him to the clinic. I was dragged out of bed, holding his jacket and water bottle, trailing behind them. During the consultation, the doctor routinely asked for his age. Hearing "eleven years old," the doctor was quite surprised, because my brother's build was noticeably smaller than his peers. But my mom wasn't happy about that. "Who are you looking down on? Don't you know boys hit their growth spurts later?" My brother was already burning up, red as a lobster—even worse than he looked in my past life—and was constantly whining about how awful he felt. I anxiously chimed in, "His ID says that's his age, it's correct." My mom snapped, "What are you standing there for? Hurry up and prescribe the medicine for my son! If the fever causes any permanent damage to my son, I'm going to sue you for everything you've got!" The doctor had been dragged out of bed in the middle of the night to see a patient, and dealing with someone like my mom didn't improve his mood. He directly gave my brother an intramuscular injection, prescribed some medication, and then used the excuse of closing the clinic to rush us out. The medication cost over two hundred dollars. When my mom heard the total, she cursed about being ripped off, but there wasn't a single moment of hesitation when she pulled out the cash. In my previous life, I was deeply hurt by this blatant double standard. I sacrificed so much just to earn her love. But now that I've seen their true colors, I won't soften my heart even a fraction this time! 05 After returning home in the early hours of the morning, my mom ran into her room and fell into a deep sleep, ordering me to take care of my brother. After she left, I wrapped myself in a blanket and curled up on the sofa to sleep. When I woke up again, my brother was wailing loudly. I had a pretty good idea of what happened, so I immediately ran to wake my mom up. My brother was rushed to the emergency room and was in critical condition for two whole days before he stabilized. Interestingly enough, when the doctors asked for my brother's age this time, my mom still unhesitatingly said eleven. But thankfully, the doctors at this major hospital were more cautious and had dealt with all sorts of stubborn, uneducated family members. Under the doctor's stern questioning, my mom's expression gradually became uncertain. She seemed to have guessed the reason why my brother ended up like this, but she absolutely refused to admit it, as if not admitting it meant it wasn't her fault. But when it was a matter of life and death, the doctor didn't have the patience to play games with her. The doctor anxiously raised his voice and interrogated her, practically yelling, drawing the attention of everyone in the hallway. Trembling, my mom pulled him into a corner and whispered: "Doctor, why are you being so loud? That's just how we calculate age where we're from!" "And my daughter's ID has that age too! She was perfectly fine when she got her injection last time!" "Look and see if there are any other reasons? Could it be because he wasn't taken care of properly after the injection? I don't even have to think about it to know that lazy brat of a daughter didn't take her brother's life seriously!" While my mom was talking, the doctor had already rolled his eyes impatiently several times. He wasn't unfamiliar with patients' families like this, the kind who only knew how to shirk responsibility when things went wrong. He interrupted my mom, confirmed the actual age, and went into the operating room to save him. This ordeal cost tens of thousands of dollars. Not only did my brother suffer immensely, but it also left permanent damage to his left leg. However, the doctor said that with proper recovery, it wouldn't affect his normal walking. When he found out he ended up in the hospital due to my mom's negligence, my brother threw a massive tantrum in his hospital bed. Knowing she was in the wrong, my mom bought him plenty of toys he'd been wanting to coax him back into a good mood. But I wasn't so lucky. "What kind of sister are you? Did you learn absolutely nothing in school? You can't even tell the difference between chronological age and lucky age when seeing a doctor! Are you just hoping your brother dies sooner?!" My mom stood with her hands on her hips and screamed at me. My brother in the bed also changed his tune and chimed in: "Yeah, Maya! Why didn't you stop Mom? Why wasn't it you who almost died from the injection!" 06 I looked at the malicious nature gradually revealing itself in my brother, clenched my fists tightly, and didn't argue back. I knew his retribution was still to come. After the two of them finished venting their anger on me, they were a happy family again. While my brother was hospitalized, my mom, just like in my past life, went to cause a scene at the small clinic. This time, she was even greedier, demanding a hundred thousand dollars from them. Otherwise, she threatened to sue them for malpractice and shut them down. Helpless, the doctor had no choice but to pay up. After getting the money, my mom went to claim credit with my brother. "If it weren't for this whole ordeal, when did you expect your mom to ever make this much money?" "The doctors all said there's absolutely no problem with your leg. You can't even tell unless you look really closely." My brother, holding the thousand dollars my mom gave him to top up his gaming account, instantly changed his tune. He threw his arms around my mom's neck and kissed her several times, entirely forgetting his previous resentment towards her. "You have to trust Mom. The lucky age isn't just a way of showing gratitude to your mother; it will bring you blessings in the future!" "And don't listen to your sister's nonsense. It's fine if girls lie about being younger, but you're different. You're the only male heir of the Miller family! Having an older age written down just makes you seem more manly!" "Mom will save all the rest of this money for you! When you grow up, the family's money and the house will all be yours!" My brother agreed sweetly, repeating several times that he was eleven this year, counting his time in the womb as one year. 07 With money in her hands, my mom recently became obsessed with playing poker. She ordered me not to go to school for the next few days and to stay at the hospital to take care of my brother. I was responsible for the family's three meals a day. Since my brother was recovering, my mom was more generous with the grocery money than usual. I couldn't fight back against their everyday abuse and beatings, but I had ways to secretly make them miserable where they couldn't see. I only spent a third of the money to buy stale vegetables and cheap meat, adding various seasonings so they couldn't taste the difference at all. Sometimes my brother would even praise my cooking after eating, and my mom would clean her plate every time. I smiled silently. Without realizing it, by the time my mom cut off my living expenses, I had already saved up quite a bit of money. Even though it wasn't a fortune, it was enough for me to comfortably finish high school. In this life, nobody was going to stop me from getting into a good college and escaping this place. While I was racing against the clock to study in high school, my brother developed extravagant habits and became a bully at school. Whenever I ranked in the top ten of my grade in exams, my brother would be called to the principal's office because he failed every single subject. The teachers always said our family was a study in extremes. Why couldn't the younger brother study as well as the older sister? In this life, because I maintained good grades, I received a few hundred dollars in scholarships every semester. I handed all of this over to my mom, only asking that she not interfere with my studies. With the money in hand, she naturally didn't bother making trouble for me. As for my brother, his resentment towards me grew day by day because the neighbors were always comparing him to me. Sometimes when I was working a part-time job after school, he would bring a group of delinquents to steal the recycling I had collected. The homework I stayed up late to finish would be thrown into the trash by him the next morning. Seeing my distressed look, he would only laugh maliciously with his friends. Later on, I completely ignored these kinds of pranks. Except, when I cooked every day, I would secretly add a little something extra to his soup base. Sometimes it was powdered cockroach corpses, sometimes it was dumpling broth that a lizard had "accidentally" fallen into... 08 Fortunately, the final results did not disappoint me. I successfully got into a top-tier university and chose a major at a campus as far away from home as possible. When my mom found out, she sternly ordered me to change it, but I brought out the excuse I had prepared long ago: "The major I chose has a great future prospect. I might make a lot of money later on, and then I can support you even better!" I had been completely obedient to my mom all these years. Even when she cut off my living expenses, I didn't act like I felt it was unfair, unlike my past life. I ate oatmeal and toast every day, and I still handed my scholarship money over to her. I would even smile and say to her: "Mom, you've raised me for so many years. Now that I'm an adult, it's only right that I repay you." She never in a million years would have thought I had any intention of escaping. Deep down, she believed I would dedicate my entire life to serving this family. Hearing what I said, her eyes darted around shiftily. "But I'm telling you right now, don't even think about asking me for tuition money!" "I've fed and housed you for over a decade! I've already done more than enough!" I quickly waved my hands. "How could I possibly ask you for more money? I know tuition is expensive, but I've applied for student loans now, so you don't have to worry about me." Only then did she relax, waving her hand dismissively. "Once you're in college, don't just focus on having fun. Learn from others and get a part-time job! Your dad died early, and it wasn't easy for me to raise you and Jackson all by myself. You need to remember how hard I worked!" "Jackson needs money right now, so I won't ask you for much. Once you're in college, just send me a thousand dollars a month to my card!" To successfully escape, I agreed to whatever conditions she proposed. Anyway, the day would come when I would exact my revenge on them, one by one! 09 In the blink of an eye, my brother was a junior in high school. When he was little, he skipped two grades in preschool, so his actual chronological age was two years younger than his classmates. But because my mom had messed with his official records, his legal age was one year older than his classmates. This time, when the announcement came that an agency was coming to the school for the final round of Air Force pilot recruitment, my brother was more excited than anyone else. Because he was the only one in his class who met the age requirement! In fact, there were no more than five students in the entire grade who met the age requirement. Even before the recruitment process started, he was already fantasizing about what he would look like as a pilot. Hearing this news, my mom was genuinely happy for him. She viewed her son through rose-colored glasses, believing unequivocally that as long as my brother participated, he would definitely succeed! If he wasn't chosen, it meant the recruiters were blind! She even gloated, "See? Doesn't Mom deserve some credit?" "If we went by how everyone else counts from birth, wouldn't you have missed this opportunity?" "I always said my way of counting was the right way! You need to remember to be grateful, and the blessings will come, right?" My brother, hearing this, also felt incredibly lucky. "Good thing you had foresight, Mom!" "Don't worry! Once I'm selected and make big money in the future, I'll definitely make sure you live a good life!" My mom was so thrilled by my brother's words that she posted several updates on Facebook. Almost every neighbor, relative, and friend she'd ever spoken to knew that Jackson was testing to become a pilot. Everyone praised him for being so promising. When he went for his first physical exam, my mom had already gathered her acquaintances and booked nine large tables at a restaurant to celebrate his acceptance into the pilot program. However, before she could wait for the good news about my brother, she first received a call from the police station.
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