Chapter 3

Grandma’s general store had been closed for a long time.

My mom and I lived in the woodshed outside Grandma’s house.

A five-year-old could vaguely tell the difference between good and bad.

I could clearly feel that Grandpa and Grandma didn’t really like my mom or me.

Yet, I noticed my mom’s smile growing wider.

It was the feeling of being home, of stability.

My mom was happy, and I was happy too, so I was willing to call them Grandpa and Grandma.

But they didn’t treat my mom or me like people.

Early in the morning, still twilight, my mom would have to get up and cook for the whole family.

After taking my cousin to school, she also had to take care of my pregnant aunt Brenda.

And of course, my mom had to look after the family’s fields.

Going to market to sell vegetables and fruits also fell to my mom.

My mom went to the market eagerly every day, then returned just as eagerly with a gift for me.

Sometimes she would carefully count out how much money she’d made that day, then teach me how to use an abacus.

“Iris, even if you don’t learn anything else, you *must* learn this.”

“Once you learn this, you can make a lot of money.”

“Really?”

I looked at Mom with admiration, and she nodded seriously.

“Then I’ll definitely spend all my money on you, Mom.”

Sometimes she would buy me a few candies or pastries.

But most of the time, these things were intercepted by my sharp-eyed aunt Brenda.

And then given entirely to my cousin to eat.

Later, my mom learned to wrap the pastries in three or four layers, stuff them into her clothes, and bring them back to me.

I was little then, and I only cared about eating the always warm pastries.

Sometimes, she would tell me about the books she’d seen at the county library.

She didn’t recognize the words, but she was slowly learning.

I could see the light sparkling in my mom’s eyes when she described these things.

It was a different feeling from when she was at home.

At those moments, she glowed.

My mom would never know.

That very early on, her resilience had inspired her daughter.

I opened my mouth and asked my mom if I could go to school.

My mom paused, her eyes suddenly shining.

“That’s right, Iris! How could I forget to send you to school?”

“Your mom regrets not finishing elementary school and not being able to teach you.”

“But don’t worry, Mom will make sure you get an education.”

I nodded firmly.

There was only one elementary school in the village, and the age regulations weren’t very strict.

Sometimes during busy farming seasons, parents would even send their four-year-olds to school.

But my mom and I overlooked one crucial problem.

I didn’t have a birth certificate.

Because I was a girl, the old widower had immediately turned cold.

He couldn’t even be bothered to give me a name, so how could he register my birth?

So, even now, I was an unregistered person.

I could only audit classes; I couldn’t officially enroll.

My mom was so anxious she stopped going to the market. She spent every day in the village asking how to get my birth certificate.

Finally, she got an answer: she needed to take proof to the county office to process it.

My mom didn’t say another word and immediately rushed to the county.