: Unregistered
3
Mrs. Young's little shop had long since closed down.
My mom and I lived in the woodshed outside Mrs. Young's courtyard.
At five years old, a child can vaguely tell who likes them and who doesn't.
I could clearly feel that Mr. and Mrs. Young weren't very fond of my mom and me.
But I could see my mom smiling more and more.
It was a feeling of security, of having come home.
When my mom was happy, I was happy too, so I was willing to call them Mr. and Mrs. Young.
But they didn't treat my mom and me like people.
My mom had to get up at the crack of dawn to cook for the whole family.
After taking my cousin to school, she also had to take care of the pregnant Mrs. Young.
Of course, my mom also had to tend to the family's fields.
Going to the market to sell vegetables and fruit was also up to my mom.
Every day, my mom would go to the market full of enthusiasm and return just as enthusiastically with a gift for me.
Sometimes, she would meticulously count out how much money she'd made that day and then teach me how to use an abacus.
"Treasure Bead, you don't have to learn anything else, but you absolutely must learn this."
"Once you've learned this, you'll be able to make a lot of money."
"Really?"
I looked at Mom with adoration, and she nodded solemnly.
"Then when I make money, I'll definitely spend it on you."
Sometimes she would buy me a few candies or pastries.
But most of the time, these things would be intercepted by the sharp-eyed Mrs. Young.
Then she would give them all to my cousin to eat.
Later, my mom learned to wrap the pastries in three or four layers, tuck them inside her clothes, and bring them back to me.
I was little back then, so all I cared about was eating the pastries, which were always warm.
Sometimes she would tell me about the books she saw at the bookstore in Crestwood.
She couldn't read, but she was slowly learning.
I could see the light shining in my mom's eyes as she described these things.
She wasn't the same person she was at home.
In those moments, she was radiant.
My mom would never know.
Long before, she had already inspired her daughter with her resilience.
I asked my mom if I could go to school.
My mom froze for a moment, then her eyes instantly lit up.
"Of course, Treasure Bead! How could I have forgotten about sending you to school?"
"What I regret most is that I never even finished elementary school, so I can't teach you myself."
"But don't you worry. I'll make sure you get to go to school."
I nodded firmly.
There was only one elementary school in the village, and it wasn't very strict about age requirements.
During the busy farming season, some parents would even send their four-year-olds to school.
But my mom and I had overlooked one important problem.
I didn't have a household registration.
Back when I was born, because I was a girl, the old widower's face had immediately turned cold.
He couldn't even be bothered to give me a name, so why would he have registered my birth?
So to this day, I was still an unregistered person.
I could only audit classes; I couldn't officially enroll.
My mom was so anxious that she stopped going to the market, spending every day asking around the village how to get me registered.
Eventually, she found out that she had to take the required documents to Crestwood to get it processed.
Without a second thought, my mom rushed to Crestwood.
