In my world, there is no right to rebel in the morning.

I can only wait every day in my little yard full of despair, waiting for my husband who will come after all

For me, it's nothing more than standing in the yard every day, watching the birds in the sky, one after another leaving my sky.

My sky was only the size of that small courtyard, and I was like a frog sitting in a well, and I could only see the world in that well all the time.

The sky has clouds, soaring birds, romantic butterflies, herring fish, flowers and weeds, majestic trees, and thunder.

The sky has the earth, but it can't have me......

I didn't own them either.

I count the stars on the ground, and the stars on the earth will whisper back to me.

They were shiny, and they really made me understand that I wasn't so nothing.

At least, I still have this only star under the sky.

I don't like the moon very much, because it's hard to see the moon in my little yard, it doesn't have as many stars as it does, and it doesn't stay in my yard like stars.

So I don't like it.

That's why I'm so reluctant to face the night, even though the stars shine in the night, but the moon's is the light in the night.

Without the stars, the sky is blue, but if you lose the moon, the night sky is left with night.

There is very little moon in my sky, so I can only pray that the stars will not leave me.

It was as if there was no more day in my life, because the arrival of the day always meant terrible, and for me, I longed for everything in my little yard, to stay in the night.

Because I am afraid, on what day of the year, when the day comes, I will be married.

I will marry a husband whom I have never met before, or I will die in the marriage procession.

I didn't want to marry like other girls, or rather, I didn't meet my true destiny......

I don't think if I stayed in that little yard all the time, I wouldn't have met it for the rest of my life.

I have seen the gold and silver carriage, the red wedding dress, the tall horse and the big sedan chair, all kinds of things for marriage, and the blessing of dragging an elder sister.

This sister is not my own sister, she married to a man she has never met, because she, like me, has a small yard with flowers that she planted with her own hands, and those flowers are bright and beautiful, called begonias.

When the begonia flowers bloom, there is a light fragrance, she is not my father's daughter, so she can have the right to move around, she has come to my yard once or twice, and each time she brings her begonia flowers.

The first time, she and I were still young, and I had just come back from the country, and my mother's illness was better, so I left the country, and I told her the story of my big dog and two dogs in the country.

We laughed together for the honesty of the two dogs, and we shed tears together for the life experience of the big dog, which was like this when we were young, and we cried for others a few times before we had time to cry for ourselves.

I was happy to tell the story, and she sat next to me and listened quietly, and she said that I was like a boy, running crazy in the fields, and the whole boy's style.

Actually, I don't look like a boy at all, I just think it would be a pity if I was the only one who knew about the joy of being in the field.

Or, in other words, I want to convey to my sister that there are so many interesting things in this world. And not just her begonia flowers.

Instead of quietly learning the rules of husband and children, learning to be submissive, learning to run in small steps, and learning to become a person's wife.

That shouldn't be the life that my sister and I, me and thousands of girls have.

We have another life to choose from.

But of course, I may really just think that running in the field is very joyful, so I said it energetically, so that my sister, who has never seen the field, shook her head, and could only listen to my words and slowly look forward to it.

Actually, I don't know if Sister Ah has a vision, this is what I think for Sister A, and it may belong to her feelings.

Because I have only met my sister twice, once when I came back from the country, she came to see me with a small basket of begonias, and once when she got married.

My sister was very small, and although she was two years older than me, she was not much taller than me at that time.

She always has a quiet face, just like my mother, my mother is always virtuous and quiet, and my sister is always virtuous and quiet. Except for the begonia flowers in her little basket, it was as if everything in her body no longer belonged to her.

She told me about the rhythm she had learned from the workshop, and if she could, she would always be able to rest to the quiet sound of her future husband while serving him.

She told me about the stunt she had learned from his mother, but I didn't know what her mother's stunt meant, or why she was embarrassed when she told it.

She said it was a stunt to serve her future husband.

I don't understand and I don't understand.

I could only listen blankly, unable to say a word.

Because I didn't know who my sister's husband was at that time. Sister herself doesn't know.

I do not know.

I don't know if my husband's husband will like the piano that Sister is talking about.

I do not know.

I don't know if Sister's husband will like Sister's stunt of blushing.

I don't even know who my sister's husband really is.

Because Sister A's husband is always so mysterious, I can't find out, and I've never heard Sister Ah say it.

I can only guess that my sister's husband will like the rhythm of the piano played by my sister, and he will like the stunt in my sister's mouth.

When Sister left my small yard, she left the lingering fragrance of her begonia flowers in my yard, and she returned to her own small yard, and there were begonia flowers in her small yard.

All the loneliness and loneliness hit again, and I began to really care about those begonias.

But I don't have the right to plant flowers.

My father's daughter does not have the right to grow flowers.

Those begonias died in my yard, as if they were everything to me, everything I thought about my sister...... The good will never end withering.

From brightly colored flowers withered into bloody muddy soil.

But the good thing is that as I've gotten older, I've really been able to really do what I can in that little yard full of despair.

I can finally read and write, I can finally write and draw something with pen and ink.

It's just that it seems too late, I didn't learn anything under the teacher's teaching, I am literate, but it is difficult to have a talent for painting.

My drawings are crooked, and it's always bad.

But I really enjoyed it, because it was the only pleasure I had.

I drew my big dog, the big dog is so stupid, I almost forgot what he looked like, I can only draw it with the big dog I imagined, with small ears, big spots, small tail, and the big dog holding his head high like a war horse.

There are also two dogs, two dogs with bright big eyes, small noses, and that face that is always flushed.

I'm so ruthless that I really forgot what they looked like, and I could only draw them crookedly.

People are not like people, and dogs are not like dogs.

But I still painted them with the most sincere feelings.

It's not as good as it could be, but I've dreamed of them, and I wish they had dreamed of me.

I didn't dream of my sister, and I never painted my sister. My sister has only had a relationship with me once.

She has her little yard and I have mine.

She has her begonias, and I have my picture scrolls.

It's just that she doesn't belong to her anymore, and I can slowly find myself again.

I look forward to my future, and the more I look forward, the more desperate I become.

And Sister Ah longs for her husband, the more she longs for it, the better it is

Maybe my sister and I are two people by nature, and we no longer have a common language.

On the day she got married, I was fortunate enough to leave my small courtyard again, and I saw my brothers and my sister.

She's too pretty, no, or maybe her makeup is too pretty, her bright red wedding dress is too pretty, her tall horse chariot is too pretty.

That's why she's pretty.

She's pretty, I don't know her anymore.

She never seemed to be her, so much so that I wondered for a moment that I wasn't me anymore.

I also really understand why girls should dress up so beautifully when they get married, and the person they really love may be for the sake of pleasing themselves, and giving their lives to a beloved man may be the happiest thing in a woman's life.

Therefore, the festive red dress, the festive makeup, and the beauty no longer belong to themselves.

But she has never seen her husband, from Sister A's house to Sister A's husband's house, it seems to be separated by mountains and seas.

I actually know why my sister married so far, because my father was there and owned one peach orchard after another.

Peach orchards produce peach trees, peach trees bear peaches, and peaches are exchanged for money.

The peach orchard there needs my father, and my father needs the peach orchard there.

My sister doesn't need a peach orchard, and she can't have a peach orchard, but on the land there, the owner of the peach orchard needs a concubine.

It's like a concubine like my mother.

So my sister got married.

I never knew where my sister got married...... Because I really can't get it.

I don't know my sister anymore.

Because when she got married, she wore makeup and a red wedding dress.

She can't wear such makeup and wedding dresses all the time, so in my memory, the sister who left the begonia flowers in my yard is too vague, and only she was left when she got married.

But after all, she can only wear ordinary clothes and live an ordinary life.

There's nothing wrong with that, I mean, if she's not married as a concubine, there's nothing wrong with marrying just a fruit farmer......

I was aware of my mother's tragedy.

I was so clearly aware of my sister's tragedy.

I even had a premonition that I was going out to get married two years later.

Because I'm only two years younger than my sister.

Sister A got married, and two years later, it was my turn.

I often miss my sister so without conscience, if it weren't for her, I wouldn't have a premonition that I would really get married.

Maybe it's another city lord's son who needs a wife, or maybe the son of a chamber of commerce president needs a wife.

I even listened to my sister say, fortunately, I, I am my father's daughter, the daughter of a city lord, and I will not become someone else's concubine, but only a righteous wife.

But I don't understand that if a man has a concubine, then how can a wife be lucky......

Thankfully?

What can be lucky?

So when my sister got married, I could only watch her gold and silver cart leave slowly, quietly, like my sister.

I really didn't feel a little sad, not only because of the despair that I became more and more aware of, but also because of my sympathy and pity for my sister.

I'm not my sister, and I'm not anyone's sister.

I am who I am.

I finally understood this.

I am who I am.

I have to really resist, I can no longer fantasize about the white horse of my dreams, I can no longer fantasize that my father will find out with his conscience, I can no longer imagine that all the damage will be erased by itself.

I can only remind myself all the time.

Only by fighting can I really get a new life.

Only by taking concrete action can I really get a new, mine, and another life......

Not this little yard, not a husband who has never been seen, not a little girl who does not dare to face the arrival of the day.

I'm cultivating and realizing that I've grown up, and I've understood that I have to grow up.

I no longer wish that I would not have to marry until I grew up, and I no longer wish that there would be someone in my life who could save me.

I began to confront myself.

I began to really face things that I had never thought about and never done.

I need to escape, to escape from this shackle, to escape from this little courtyard where there is always night.

I don't see the stars anymore, I'm not just a frog anymore, I need to get out of this well, I need the moon.

I need to see!

My Moon!

On the day my sister got married, I met my second brother.

My second brother was always kind to me, and when he saw that I looked melancholy, he asked me if I missed my sister.

I shook my head and said no.

Because I really didn't, I was able to really tell the truth in front of my second brother.

I've never met my sister who isn't my family, who isn't my father's daughter. So she was like any hurried passer-by in my life.

Nothing more.

I didn't even think about her with the slightest sadness, even though I realized the tragedy she might have had in her life.

At the very least, she can comfort herself.

She always comforts herself.

Human beings are always good at self-soothing.

She served her husband, she served her husband well, her husband, her husband who had never met would be nice to her.

I no longer remember my sister's appearance, maybe in her city, a woman carrying a basket of begonia flowers was her.

I passed by in a hurry, and I thought she should know you and me, because I had never been married in front of her, and I had never worn heavy makeup, nor had I ever worn a bright red wedding dress in front of her.

That way, she should recognize me as someone who doesn't change anymore.

Or maybe they really won't recognize me anymore.

She left in a hurry, and there was no news in this world.

She might also plant some begonias.

The begonias in her small yard had died.

She planted it in her current small yard.

It's still a begonia, and it's still a small yard.

She belongs to Begonia.

But Begonias don't belong to her.