Butterfly Lovers
In my final year of high school, my parents died, leaving me nothing but a crumbling brick house.
And yet, I somehow got myself a younger brother.
He was a second-year student at our school, at the top of his grade. But no one respected him. Even when he was bullied, the teachers turned a blind eye.
Why? Because even if others didn't beat him, his drunken father did it every day, while his cowardly mother never dared to fight back.
I dragged him home with all my strength, patched up his wounds, and kept him with me for several days.
Later, when his mother was beaten to death, I called the police and had his father arrested.
"Hey," I told him, "from now on, live with me. I don't have an