I was born in the red light district, my mother being a famously notorious streetwalker known all over the neighborhood; the identity of my father was unknown.

From a young age, I've witnessed my mother bringing home one strange man after another, the bed on the second floor rattling ominously.

The moans of women and vulgar words of men filled the nocturnal space. From the butchers at the street market to the laborers at the alley’s end, all were her patrons.

Every day, she appeared heavily made up, clutching the cheapest cigarettes available, donning short skirts with stockings, and strutting around in black high heels, no matter the season or how cold it was.

From the time I could remember, I knew I was different from the others.

As children enjoyed trips to the playground with their parents, I was running errands to the neighborhood grocery store to buy condoms.

At that time, I had no idea what they were used for. One day, out of curiosity, I blew one into a balloon and played with it. My mother, upon catching sight of me, slapped me hard on the face.

She glared at me resentfully and shouted, "Don't touch it! Do you want to end up like me when you grow up?!"

I didn't understand why she hit me; all I knew was that the slap was hard enough to swell my face.

I started crying loudly, but she barely gave me a glance before heading to the rental room doorway to greet her approaching clients.

There arrived a regular client, noticing my tears, queried, “What’s wrong with Zhao Zhao?”

In a nonchalant manner, she replied, "Don't mind this brat, crying all day and driving me crazy!"

She led the man upstairs, to continue with the business as usual.

Generally, during such times, I’d be downstairs playing marbles or drawing with colored pencils, but that day, teary-eyed as I was, I found myself inexplicably drawn towards the stairs.

Due to their vigorous, distracting activities, they failed to notice my presence upstairs.

I saw a man stripped of his clothing, pressing himself forcefully against my mother's body. I didn't know what they were doing, but the scene before me seemed terrifying, and I hastily fled downstairs before I dared get any closer.

It wasn't until later, when Sister Ping took me into the night scene, that I realized that it was a man's primal desire for a woman.

When I was seven, it was time for me to start elementary school, but due to my lack of city residency permit, the school could not confirm my admission. My mother used her body to trade for an opportunity to get me into primary school. And that man, was my elementary school homeroom teacher.

His name was Li Xiangyang, who later became my stepfather.

My mother took me to register at the school. That day, she wasn't wearing heavy makeup or short skirts as usual, but rather, normal trousers and top to accompany me to school. Strangely enough, I found her more attractive at that moment than ever before.

We went to the classroom together, where Li Xiangyang was collecting tuition fees on the podium. His mung-bean eyes shone brightly when he saw my mother. With his chunky body, he came forward, took her hand, and said with a smile, "Qingqing, you made it."

My mother nodded with a smile. But I don't know why, it seemed to me that her smile was rather forced.

After paying the fees, she took me to our seats and told me, "I'm going home now. You'll be going home alone after school; you know the way, right?"

I nodded, "Yes."

The school was not very far from the alley where we lived; I remember.

My mother left, and I was alone at school. I looked at the strangers in the classroom and everyone was talking and laughing. It felt like I was an outsider, unable to join the conversation.

Later, I learned that everyone had attended the attached kindergarten and promoted straight into elementary school. Many of them had become friends since then.

I never attended kindergarten and therefore, I found myself out of place. It was also difficult for me in the initial phase, learning phonetics. Maths was fine though. I often used to run errands to the supermarket. My mother taught me basic arithmetic so that I could make sure to bring back the change.

My desk partner was a plumpy kid. On the first day of school, he drew a "demarcation line" on our desk and told me not to cross it easily.

Once, I accidentally crossed the line and touched his stationery. The next moment, he stabbed the back of my hand with a pencil.

The pencil tip was whittled to a sharp point, drawing thin strands of blood upon puncture. I truly felt numb with pain, but he just glared at me menacingly, declaring, “You were the one who crossed the line first!”

His name is Li Zhipeng, the first enemy I had in school.

I didn’t have many friends at school. When class was over, I would just sit in my seat and read the newly distributed textbooks, gaze at the backpack hanging behind my own seat, and wonder, so this is what going to school is like?

But being in school wasn't fun at all.

After enduring the day, at the time school was out, Li Xiangyang called me to his office. Speaking in hushed tones, he said to me, “Tell your mom, I am going to see her tonight, let her wait for me.”

“Oh.”

I blankly nodded, then went home with my backpack, my mind still troubled by today’s homework.

Our language teacher asked us to each write our name ten times when we got home, but I don't know how to write. My mother calls me Zhaozhao, but I don't know how to write "Zhaozhao", I wonder if she does.

As I was almost home, I saw my mother arguing fiercely with a woman. With heated words, my mother angrily chased the woman out, yelling at her, “Pah, I have nothing to do with that place anymore, don’t expect me to come back!”

The woman, severely scolded, could only turn and leave in a huff. She happened to run headlong into me, stopping her steps, and asked me, "Are you Ye Qing's daughter?”

I glanced up at her, taking in the blue and white porcelain cheongsam perfectly accentuating her figure. This was the first time I had seen a person wear a cheongsam so elegantly, even more dazzling than the female stars I saw on TV.

I nodded and asked, "I am, who are you?"

She didn't answer my question but bent slightly over, reaching out to touch my face, examining it carefully.

She lifted up my chin with one hand and smiled, saying, "You're clearly a beauty in the making. Wait for you to grow a few more years, and you may surpass Ye Qing's youthful glamour."

She didn’t say anything more, merely strode past me in her white high heels.

I smelled her thick perfume, intermingled with a hint of smoke.

Frozen on the spot, I watched her take a few steps away before turning back and suddenly saying, "By the way, you can call me Sister Ping, we'll... we'll see each other again."

After Sister Ping left, I entered my room and saw my mother standing by the window smoking. Remembering Li Xiangyang's message, I relayed it to her and saw a deeper sadness falling into her eyes.

Back then, I was too young to understand why my mother's eyes carried such an expression.

It wasn't until several years later, when Sister Ping was guiding me through the nightlife at the bustling Shengshi Club, that I gradually came to understand. It was the ultimate helplessness towards life.

One night, when I was in a drowsy sleep, I heard a burst of voices. Listening carefully, I realized Li Xiangyang was there.

"Why are you just coming now? I've been waiting for you all night," My mother’s voice was tender with a hint of complaint.

"Oh, my little darling, don't be mad. It was only after my son went to sleep that I had the time to come and see you."

As he spoke, I heard a rustling of clothes and Li Xiangyang’s sly voice followed, "I helped your daughter get into school this time, so, what’s the reward?”

“You old devil, not here. Close the door and we'll talk upstairs."

"Alright, we can slowly talk upstairs, hehe…"

…

I was staying in the room next to my mother's. The house was old, so the sound of the staircase was especially obvious.

I carefully got out of bed, tiptoed to the door and through a small crack, saw Li Xiangyang and my mother walking upstairs together.

Li Xiangyang initially wanted to stay outside, but my mother, with a face full of rejection, pushed him away and said, "No, not here. We'll talk inside, Zhaozhao is sleeping in the next room, don't wake her up."

He was already lost in desire, beyond all rational thinking, "She's just a little girl, what could she understand?"

Even so, his mother steadily forced him into the room, and with a swift action closed the door behind them.

Even inside the room, their voices didn't quiet down. In their hurry to enter, the room door hadn't been firmly closed, thus the sound was exceptionally clear.

Listening to the voices coming from the next room, I felt my face becoming intensely hot, a sweltering sensation, my heart pounding like a drum, drumming incessantly.

I raised my hand to touch my burning face, then carefully opened my room door. Then, I slowly walked to my mother's room door, cracked it open a slither, crouching down to look inside...