Du Luzhu was the most beautiful girl in the village, but she had fallen for Pei the Scoundrel, who, despite his handsome face, was rotten in every other way.
When Du Luzhu unexpectedly became pregnant and sought him out, he had already been thrown into prison for his misdeeds.
In the village, getting pregnant before marriage was a grave offense, one that would bring scorn from the entire community. Du Luzhu, being naturally timid, couldn’t bear the thought of enduring such shame. So she discussed it with her family and decided to go to the county to work, under the guise of earning money for the family, while secretly carrying the baby to term.
Nine months later, she risked her life, giving birth to a baby boy in a public restroom, all in secret.
She had already made a private arrangement with the Jiang family, a wealthy couple known for their charitable work but unable to have children of their own. After the baby was born, she handed him over to them.
It was said to be an act of charity, but in reality, when she returned home, her bags were stuffed with a thick wad of “compensation money.”
When she got home, her family, seeing all the money, assumed she had earned it working in the city and praised her for being a filial daughter. The guilt she had briefly felt about abandoning her firstborn vanished.
When Pei the Scoundrel was released from prison, the village gossip eventually pressured him into marrying Du Luzhu.
After the marriage, Du Luzhu became pregnant again, and, under the stress of her husband’s constant infidelity, gave birth prematurely to twins: Pei Ruyin and Pei Ruxiao.
Initially, she had only consulted a fortune-teller for one name, not expecting to have another child. The second child was small and fussy, so she casually named him Pei Ruxiao, later changing it to Xiao because it looked better.
This name, like the child himself, was something casual, an afterthought.
As the twins grew, this dynamic became clear. Pei Ruyin was steady and outstanding, constantly appearing on the school’s honor roll. Pei Ruxiao, on the other hand, was a troublemaker, often seen with a gang of delinquents, learning nothing of value.
Du Luzhu’s favouritism grew stronger, and everything in the household revolved around Pei Ruyin’s opinions.
As for her husband, he ran off with a wealthy widow soon after the twins were born.
But Du Luzhu didn’t suffer for long. Pei Ruyin had a natural business sense and, from a young age, learned how to set up a food stall at the school gate, tutor his classmates, and even write homework for others to make money. After school, he secretly worked at the only music store in the county, just to learn how to play the piano.
With Pei Ruyin shouldering the family’s financial burdens, their situation improved, and they even moved out of the mountains and into the county.
Everything took a turn, though, when Pei Ruyin got food poisoning on the day of his college entrance exams and developed gastritis, causing him to fail.
It was later discovered that Pei Ruxiao had tampered with his food.
Pei Ruxiao knew that with Pei Ruyin’s grades, getting into a top university was a sure thing. He realised that as his brother’s life advanced, their gap would only widen. So, in a fit of jealousy, Pei Ruxiao sabotaged what had been over ten years of hard work for his brother.
Though Pei Ruyin eventually received an offer from a foreign university with the help of his teachers, the exorbitant tuition and living expenses were far beyond what the Pei family could afford.
In desperation, Du Luzhu remembered the eldest son she had given away years ago.
When she rushed to the Jiang family’s home, she was greeted by a scene of black and white mourning banners fluttering in the wind. Inside the empty hall knelt a thin young man.
The story was that the Jiang couple had failed in their investments, amassing huge debts, and in their despair, they had jumped off a building together, leaving behind their son to face endless debt collectors.
The boy knelt on a cold gray mat, offering incense with perfect posture before slowly turning his head. His features were sharp and refined, his gaze piercing as if he could see right through people. It was hard to believe he was only seventeen.
What shocked Du Luzhu the most was how similar this boy looked to the twins. It’s rare for siblings to look exactly alike, even with the same parents, but this boy was an exception.
Just as Du Luzhu was about to introduce herself, the boy spoke first. “Du Luzhu, what are you doing here?”
Before coming, Du Luzhu had learned that the child she had given away was named Jiang Ruosheng, but she was stunned by how this young man seemed to know who she was without being told.
“You know me?”
Jiang Ruosheng, of course, knew her. He had even gone to see her a few years ago.
His adoptive parents had only been philanthropists in name. When he was just one year old, they had beaten him so badly that his bones were broken in several places. The couple put on a convincing act, blaming the abuse on a nanny, which drew in a flood of donations. At two, he was locked in a dog kennel and nearly torn apart by starving guard dogs before being rescued at the last moment. At three… and so on. Nearly every year of his life involved hospitalisation, but he survived, barely.
A few years ago, when he had developed acute pneumonia from an infection, he overheard his adoptive parents discussing how he had been “sold” by his biological mother.
He traced his origins back to the Pei family and had been observing them from the shadows for some time.
The twins were physically identical but opposite in nature.
Pei Ruyin was intelligent but overly proud, while Pei Ruxiao was born with a deficit in intelligence—stupid and cruel, easily swayed by others.
To Du Luzhu, Pei Ruyin was her only recognised son.
Pei Ruxiao was a burden.
As for Jiang Ruosheng, he was just a rag she had thrown away.
Jiang Ruosheng said, “Of course I know you—you’re my biological mother.”
Being acknowledged as his mother should have made Du Luzhu happy, but the coldness in Jiang Ruosheng’s tone chilled her to the core.
Despite knowing she wasn’t welcome, Du Luzhu forced herself to explain her reason for coming—she needed money. Jiang Ruosheng smiled. “My adoptive parents planned to send me abroad, too. But after my legs were broken after the college entrance exams, I spent two years in recovery. Now you can see for yourself—the Jiang family is still deep in debt. I can’t help you. But—”
Jiang Ruosheng handed her an insurance brochure.
Du Luzhu, being illiterate, couldn’t understand the words on it.
Jiang Ruosheng smiled innocently. “Just say you found this outside somewhere and give it to Pei Ruyin. He’ll know what to do with it.”
Although she didn’t understand the details, Du Luzhu was happy to leave with a plan.
As she reached the door, she hesitated, remembering the son she had long forgotten. Stammering, she asked, “W-what about you? What will you do about going abroad?”
Jiang Ruosheng replied, “Once Pei Ruyin finds a solution, surely you wouldn’t mind helping me too, right, Mother?”
Du Luzhu still felt some guilt toward her firstborn. “Of course!”
“Then I’ll return to your side soon. By the way, what was I originally supposed to be named?”
“Pei… Pei Rujin.”
—
Half a year later, two young men, whose fates were different yet briefly intertwined, both embarked on their journeys abroad for higher education.
They ended up in the same state, with only a half-hour’s drive between their schools. But they never crossed paths, as if following an unspoken rule: never to meet.
Pei Ruyin studied finance, with a minor in foreign languages.
Pei Rujin studied computer science, with a minor in criminal psychology.
—
For a year, everything was peaceful. Then, Pei Ruxiao arrived.
Pei Rujin suspected that Pei Ruyin had smuggled him across the border somehow.
Forced to flee the country to work illegally, Pei Ruxiao harboured deep hatred for Pei Ruyin.
He had been drugged and left to drown, making him, in the eyes of the authorities back home, officially dead.
Most of the time, Pei Ruxiao stayed with Pei Rujin. Compared to the arrogant and hypocritical Pei Ruyin, he preferred his newly discovered older brother, Pei Rujin.
Pei Rujin was knowledgeable and, most importantly, never looked down on him.
Pei Ruxiao had a penchant for torturing small animals, and Pei Rujin not only never stopped him but taught him various ways to dispose of the bodies and even how to preserve the corpses. This made Pei Ruxiao feel like he had found his purpose in life, and he worshipped his older brother more and more.
One day, Pei Ruxiao discovered that Pei Ruyin was pulling out all the stops to pursue a junior girl at his school.
“I asked around,” Pei Ruxiao sneered. “That girl is the belle of her department, her papers were even published in a journal, and the professors praise her like she’s some kind of genius. She’s involved in a bunch of clubs and has tons of admirers. There’s no way a gutter rat like Pei Ruyin could ever get her.”
After that, Pei Ruxiao kept mentioning the girl more and more, along with his growing insults toward Pei Ruyin.
Pei Rujin put down his book and looked up. “You like her too.”
It wasn’t a question, but a statement.
Pei Ruxiao was flustered but didn’t deny it.
Pei Rujin gave a faint smile, stood up, and led Pei Ruxiao to a mirror. “Look. You’re identical to him. There’s no difference in appearance. The rest can be learned with practice. I remember you liked drama club. Well, here’s your chance.”
Pei Ruxiao stared at his reflection in shock.
“If he can have her, why can’t you?”
Pei Rujin’s words slipped through the air like invisible hooks, leaving no trace behind.
Inspired, Pei Ruxiao rushed out excitedly.
Pei Rujin sat back down and resumed reading Memento.
Later, Pei Ruxiao returned, buzzing with excitement. He told his brother how he had pretended to be Pei Ruyin and brought the girl some snacks. His performance was flawless—no one realized he was an imposter.
He even told the girl that his nickname was Ah Yu.
Afterward, Pei Ruyin, though aware that his brother had taken advantage of him, said nothing—perhaps out of guilt for having ruined his brother’s life in the first place. He didn’t even deny the nickname.
When Pei Rujin heard the story, he chuckled.
It was the first time Pei Ruxiao had ever seen his usually calm brother laugh so heartily. Confused, he asked why. But Pei Rujin just smiled, saying nothing.
Ah Yu, the name meant extra—something unnecessary, a leftover. That was the entirety of the nickname’s meaning.
From the very beginning, Pei Rujin had always been a detached observer, quietly watching as the two brothers tore each other apart.
