The day I was brought back to the military base, I learned that I was the Commander's only biological daughter. There was no hostility as I had imagined. My parents' eyes were red when they saw me. Even Sarah, the girl who had enjoyed eighteen years of blessings in my place, meekly called me "Sister" and thoughtfully handed me slippers. But I just felt uncomfortable. When I couldn't distinguish between a coffee spoon and a soup spoon, when I mispronounced "Shakespeare" as "Shake-spear". I could always hear snickers behind my back. Until the neighbor, Mrs. Johnson, muttered to my mother. "Sarah is still the gracious one, presentable to take out. Luna... well, she lacks breeding after all." I finally smashed the cup in my hand towards them. My mother roared at me. "Luna Vance! What are you making a scene about now!" I gritted my teeth. "You all just think I'm inferior to her in every way! She's the one who stole my life, do I still have to listen with a smile?" My father stood at the door at some point, his face gloomy. "Enough! Sarah is innocent too!" "She's innocent?" I laughed out loud, but tears fell. "So am I not innocent? Do I deserve everything?" I wiped my tears, speaking word by word. "This house cannot accommodate two daughters. You choose one." ...... My mother walked over, trying to take my hand, but I dodged abruptly. "Don't touch me!" My mother missed, her hand frozen in mid-air. Seeing this, my father walked over and slapped me. His face was ashen. "Luna Vance, if you continue to be such a disgrace, don't tell anyone you're my daughter." I covered my face and actually laughed. "Daughter? Do you really treat me as a daughter? In your eyes, am I not just an embarrassing country bumpkin?" I rushed back to my room, took out the old fountain pen with a slightly crooked nib, and smashed it hard on the floor. A few weeks ago, the family gave me this pen. I secretly vowed to study hard. To show them that even if I didn't grow up in the city, I could catch up through hard work. I treated this pen as a treasure, reluctant to press too hard when practicing handwriting. But that day, I heard two kids next door discussing loudly in English without any inhibition. "Look at her broken pen, she uses it like a treasure every day, so tacky." "Exactly, Sister Sarah stopped using such outdated models long ago. Only country bumpkins like her would treat someone else's trash as a treasure." The pen nib pierced my palm, but I felt no pain. It turned out the starting point I treasured was just a piece of trash to be laughed at in others' eyes. At that moment, I felt cold all over. Clearly, I am the biological one. Why is she adored in the compound, while I was called a "bastard with no parents" in the village? Now even a fountain pen is a style she picked over and didn't want. My voice trembled: "As soon as I came, everyone switched to English. I couldn't tell coffee from black tea, and you mocked me. Imported chocolates, the latest things, were always sent to Sarah's room first! Isn't it just because you think I'm tacky, don't understand, and don't deserve to use them?" My mother explained anxiously. "Those were just kids joking, no malice!" My father also frowned tightly. "The family never shorted you on food stamps or fabric coupons. If you like something, buy it at the commissary yourself." Sarah came over with tears in her eyes to hold my hand. "Sister, don't be angry. You can take whatever you like from my room! If you want to learn English, I can teach you!" I shook off her hand, glaring at her deathly. "Who is your sister? There is only one daughter in this family, I don't have a sister like you!" "Everything in this house should have been mine! You stole my life, and now you're pretending to be a good person?" I pointed at Sarah and looked at my parents: "I want her gone. I want her to go back to her own home!" For a moment, the entire compound was terribly quiet. Sarah opened her mouth, tears falling, but made no sound. My mother hurriedly comforted me. "Luna, don't say angry words..." Looking at their expressions, I understood everything. They wouldn't choose me. My heart was cold and numb. I bent down and picked up the broken fountain pen on the floor. "You can't bear to send her away, right?" Under their astonished gazes, I slashed my wrist fiercely with the nib. Warm liquid gushed out, falling on the floor. It didn't hurt. Just felt relieved. I looked up and laughed low. "Then I'll go." When I slowly woke up, I found myself sent to the infirmary. I ripped off the needle on the back of my hand, lifted the quilt, and rushed out. Just at the door, I was stopped by my mother who hurried over. "Luna! My child! Calm down! Don't do this anymore, it hurts Mom to see!" Her voice trembled, hugging me tightly. I struggled too hard, and the newly bandaged wound on my wrist burst open. Blood instantly stained the gauze red, dripping on the floor. But I seemed not to feel the pain, just looking at her absent-mindedly. "Hurts? You only feel hurt for Sarah... I'm just a country bumpkin who embarrasses you." Just then, Sarah appeared at the corner of the corridor. Hearing my words, she stood blankly on the spot, the bag in her hand falling to the ground. She looked down at the fallen paper bag, silent for a few seconds. When she looked up again, there was a bitter smile on her face that was uglier than crying. "Mom," Her voice was very light, with a calm of resignation. "Don't be troubled... I'll go." She carefully picked up the paper bag and wiped the dust off it with her cuff. Then she walked up to me, handed the paper bag with both hands, her eyes filled with almost humble pleading. "Sister... this is a new shirt I bought for you, to compensate you. I'm sorry... it's all my fault." She wanted to stuff the paper bag into my hand, but hesitated, afraid to anger me again. My mother turned her face away, eyes red, and finally sighed long. "Sigh... Sarah, don't be like this. Mom... Mom will talk to your dad." A few days later, Sarah really moved out. Traces of her in the house were completely erased, as if she had never existed for these eighteen years. I was extremely happy, feeling that this home finally belonged completely to me. But I found that relaxed smiles were rarely seen on my parents' faces anymore. I thought it was because I wasn't good enough, didn't work hard enough. I started cooking, making different delicious foods for my parents every day. Getting up before dawn every day to memorize words, do exercises, vowing to get into the best university and become their pride. Until New Year's Eve, every household was bustling. Our family made dumplings with neighbors in the communal cafeteria. I clumsily learned to roll the dough, wanting to blend into this festivity. Luna's once best friend blocked me by the stove when no one was paying attention. "Do you think by driving Sarah away, you can join us?" She crossed her arms, looking me up and down coldly. My hand adding firewood to the stove paused. "I didn't drive her away, she felt sorry for me herself so..." "Come on," She sneered, interrupting me. "Do you rural people always love to lie with eyes open like this? Now who in the whole compound doesn't know that as soon as the 'real daughter' of the Vance family came back, she forced away our Sarah, whom we watched grow up, the most excellent and sensible one? Uncle Vance has no face to show when he goes out for meetings now!" Although the stove fire was flourishing, I felt cold all over. Why does everyone say that? Clearly, I am the victim whose life was stolen. Why does everyone think Sarah is pitiful? She stepped closer, voice filled with undisguised contempt. "Every time Uncle Vance took her out, who didn't praise 'like father, like daughter'? She speaks fluent English, plays the piano, behaves generously and appropriately. How much face did she earn for Uncle Vance? Besides throwing tantrums and threatening people, what can you do?" I opened my mouth, but my throat felt blocked, unable to spit out a word. Looking at my pale face, she suddenly covered her mouth and laughed. "You don't really think Sarah went back to her poor mountain village, do you? Naive! Aunt Susan felt sorry for her and arranged a leisurely and decent job for her in the logistics department long ago. Now she has moved into the single dormitory assigned by the unit, conditions even better than at home! You..." "Just stay here and be your real daughter properly!" The staff dormitory was only a few streets away from the compound. I found the place without much effort and said to the comrade on guard at the door: "I am James Vance's daughter, here to find my dad." The door was ajar. I saw my parents standing at the door carrying big and small bags with loving faces. Sarah stood aside, reaching out to take them, but was blocked by my father. "You child, Mom and Dad are here to work for you, just rest well!" My father's voice carried a smiling reproach. My mother put down the things and touched Sarah's cheek with heartache. "Sarah, how can this dormitory condition compare to home? Is it cold at night? Is it convenient to eat? If anything happens, you must tell Mom, don't wrong yourself, hear me?" Sarah smiled and massaged my mother's shoulders, voice soft. "I know, Mom is the best to me! Dad too! I can't bear to let you go..." The three faces were filled with warmth, about to carry things into the door. I walked over. "This staff dormitory looks quite comfortable to live in." The three froze simultaneously. My father turned his head sharply, tone stiff. "How did you find this place?" I looked at their posture of subconsciously protecting Sarah. Looking at the panic in Sarah's eyes and my mother's pale face, I felt my blood coagulate. My voice began to tremble uncontrollably. "Didn't I say... don't interact with her anymore! Why... why did you still come to find her! And still... care about her so much!!" The last few words were almost roared out. My mother covered my mouth, whispering anxiously: "Keep your voice down! What are you shouting for! If the neighbors hear, how embarrassing for Sarah!" "Embarrassing?" Tears finally surged out uncontrollably. I threw off my mother's hand and rolled up my sleeves. On them, new and old scars crisscrossed densely. "See this? These! Are all done by your 'precious daughter's' biological parents!" They once made me wear single layer clothes to wash clothes in the frozen river in winter. Later, for two hundred dollars of dowry, they sold me to the village chief's foolish son. I risked my life to escape, was caught back and beaten half dead... I pointed at Sarah, fingertips trembling. "If it weren't for my dad... if the people my dad sent to find me didn't arrive that day, I might be dead already!" I raised my teary eyes, looking at my parents, every word weeping blood. "Why? I lived in that hell for eighteen years. When you took me back, did you ever ask me 'does it still hurt', 'are you afraid'? You didn't! You only despised my roughness, despised me for being embarrassing!" My gaze turned to this tidy and warm dormitory. "But she just moved into this single dormitory! And you are so distressed?" My mother's voice was already tinged with crying. "That... that's different..." "What's different?" I interrupted her sternly. My mother was rendered speechless by my questioning and blurted out. "After all, Sarah... we raised her with our own hands..." This sentence completely crushed and shattered the last faint hope in my heart. It turned out that blood ties were so fragile in the face of the warmth of day-to-day getting along. My mother was startled by her own blurted words, a flash of regret on her face. "Mom didn't mean that..." "But encountering such a thing, Sarah was just a child then, she definitely didn't want this either. Now Sarah has moved out. We as parents have been very fair, what more do you want?" I was stunned. What did I want? I just... just wanted to have equal weight as Sarah in their eyes. I just wanted them to ask me a sentence when I was in pain, just like they were nervous about whether Sarah was cold. How come now, it's all my fault? A wave of grievance surged in my heart. "Fair? Just because the suffering I endured didn't fall on the daughter you 'raised with your own hands', so you think it doesn't matter, right? I just wanted you to look at me more, care about me a little more!" I pointed at Sarah, then at myself. "Both are daughters, you named her 'Sarah', cherishing her like a treasure! What about me? The day I came back was the full moon, you casually called me 'Luna'! Even the name is so casual! Is this your so-called 'fairness'?!" In the dormitory corridor, several doors had quietly opened a crack. Curious or probing gazes were cast over. My father's face instantly turned ashen, veins throbbing on his forehead. He looked at me and growled: "Haven't you embarrassed us enough!" "Guards!" Two guards who had been standing nearby stepped forward. "Send her back." My father's voice was unquestionable. "Without my permission, she is not allowed to come to the military area at will again!" I was almost half-carried away from that dormitory building. Father and mother, no one followed, and no one looked back at me. Back in that terribly quiet home, I was alone again. For the first few days, I locked myself in the room, cried, hated, and smashed things. But slowly, something colder and clearer replaced the hysteria. Since tears and questioning couldn't exchange for equal love, since blood ties couldn't beat day-to-day getting along. Then what do I want these empty expectations for? If love can't be begged, then exchange for something tangible. A few days later, I went directly to my father's office. Seeing me, his brows furrowed immediately. "What do you want this time?" His tone was undisguised impatience. I wasn't agitated like before, my tone calm without any ripples. "Dad, since you arranged a job in the logistics department for Sarah and let her live in a single dormitory." I paused, saying word by word: "Then I want a job too. Better than hers, with more future." "Also, I want a house. In the city, it must be in a good location, a house that belongs to me."
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