---- Chapter 3 By the time Subject One started first grade at eight years old, she was already two years behind her peers. She graduated from elementary school at fourteen. The old bachelor from the neighboring village sneered at the television one day, pointing at some movie and saying, "In some parts of the world, kids her age could already have children." Then, turning to my mother, he offered his own twisted version of kindness. "I'll pay for her entire middle school education-three years' worth of expenses. After that, she can graduate and marry me. What do you say? You know how it is with village girls. They can't keep up in town schools, and girls can never outstudy boys anyway. Three years from now, what if she doesn't pass any exams? Worse, what if some little punk gets her pregnant, and she runs off with him? Then you'd be left with nothing." My mother didn't agree outright, but neither did she reject him. ---- A few days later, the kind woman who had been sponsoring Subject One's education came to visit and asked about her schooling. Only then did my mother mention her plans for an engagement. The woman was horrified. She immediately contacted some friends to organize continued financial support for Subject One. Satisfied with this new arrangement, my mother declined the old bachelor's offer. She had learned long ago that exploiting others' sympathy for her child was the easiest way to make money. It wasn't a one-time sale-it was an investment. The better Subject One appeared to do, the more sympathy and support they'd receive. Now, her ambitions stretched higher. She wanted Subject One to get into Harvard or Stanford University. Not because of Subject One's future, but because she'd heard that impoverished prodigies from prestigious universities drew the most donations. A brilliant, struggling student was far more valuable than a mediocre one. ---- On screen, my mother was teaching Subject One some life lessons. "Cry a little when you see the principal or teachers, make yourself look pitiful. That's how we get the money, understand?" She continued, "I've sacrificed my dignity for your sake. I'm the villain so you can be the hero. All this money? I spend it on you. Someday, it might even buy you a house. So study hard." In the simulation, Subject One nodded with a firm determination, a puppet in her mother's well- rehearsed theater of pity. The audience watching this playback was split. Some condemned my mother's manipulative tactics, while others rationalized her actions. "Parents will do anything for their kids. Sure, she's sly, but what other skills does she have to earn money?" Middle school began for Subject One the way elementary school had-with kneeling. Thin, pale, and much shorter than her peers, she stood in clothes that barely held together as her Discover our latest featured short drama reel. Watch now and enjoy the story!