Dream Reading

At my sister's funeral, her classmates who were invited came and mocked each other gleefully.
"I told you not to go too far, now the person is dead, and there's no fun anymore."
"How dare you accuse me; taking nude photos, putting chalk powder in her water cup, dripping chili oil in her eye drops... weren't all those tormenting ideas yours?"
Their laughter, showing no remorse, pierced through the rain and reached my ears. My face hid beneath the shadow of a black umbrella, and I smiled in their direction.
If they like to play, I'll play with them.
After all, who would believe that a well-behaved and academically excellent girl would commit murder?
That day, I transferred to my sister's class and used their most familiar methods to tie them up in an abandoned factory.
Looking at the cart in front of me filled with tools like chainsaws, scissors, and knives, they shook like a leaf.
"Let me see who to start with," I said.
I merely wore a smile, then suddenly leaned close to one of them, pressing the scissors in my hand close to her eyeball: "How about you first?"

After My Sister's Death, I Decided Not to Pretend to Be a Good Girl Anymore

At my sister's funeral, the classmates who were invited came and mockingly jeered at each other.


"I told you not to go too far; now she's dead, and there's nothing to play with anymore."


"How dare you talk about me? The idea to take nude photos, put chalk dust in her drink, and drip chili oil in her eye drops—all those tormenting tricks came from you, didn't they?"


Their carefree laughter carried through the curtain of rain into my ears, and my face, hidden in the shadow of a black umbrella, beamed a smile toward their direction.


They like to play games, so I'll play along with them.


After all, who would believe that a straight-A, well-behaved girl could commit murder?


That very day, I transferred to the same class my sister was in and used the methods they knew best to bind them in an abandoned factory.


Watching the cart filled with saws, scissors, knives, and other sharp tools before their eyes, they trembled like leaves.


I merely maintained a smile; then I suddenly leaned close to one of them, pushing the scissors in my hand toward her eye: "How about you?"


On my sixteenth birthday, my sister, covered in blood, appeared before me. She hugged my body and with her last breath squeezed out a faint smile, saying how wonderful it was that I was still alive.


In that moment, it felt like I had been struck by lightning.


I couldn't comprehend how my sister, who had been perfectly fine preparing for her birthday the day before, could suddenly end up like this.


Until her few classmates showed up at the funeral.


Then I realized my sister was bullied to death by them.


And the sentence she said to me before she died was because those bullies used me to threaten and intimidate her.


But oh, my dear sister, why were you so foolish?


Did you forget what your sister used to be like?


Did you forget when we were six, and neighbors called us motherless children, your sister nearly tore their mouths apart?


Did you forget when you were ten, our father tried to abuse you while drunk, and your sister directly pushed him from the 14th floor?


If not for you, how could your sister be seen as a good girl by others, a good student among the school's teachers?


The next day, despite being the top student in the city, I suddenly transferred from a key high school to my sister's class.


After introducing myself, my gaze swept across the classroom, finally fixating on a girl with chestnut wavy hair.


She, Chen Nuo, was the one leading the bullying of my sister.


I walked straight over, sat by her side, and asked if anyone was sitting there, if I could take the seat.


At that moment, looking at my face identical to my sister's, she visibly panicked.
