Holding my breath, I hid behind the door. “Hey, Li.” My mom picked up her cell phone. The noisy moan from our ancient washing machine blurred her soft voice in the Southern dialect. “...I know Yuannan is a wonderful girl.” She sighed. I pushed the stop button on the washing machine and drew out my jacket silently, walking away from the balcony and my mother’s cruel words.
 
Staring at the blank ceiling of my bedroom, I felt warm tears running down my cheek soundlessly. Again, Yuannan, an enemy I had never known.
 
My mom was brought up in a remote small town in Southern China with her sister, Aunt Li. After graduation, she moved to a large city—where we live now—while Aunt Li married a local man. Twenty years of living in a delicate water town left her with an elegant Southern accent, which had never lost its grace, even when she was scolding me.
 
This morning, I received the score sheet for my exam. Not so bad, but worse than my mom’s expectation. She said nothing, returning that piece of paper to me, though I could see the disappointment in her eyes. You just thought that I was not as good as Yuannan. I tried hard to suppress my desperate scream.
 
It was taboo in my family for children to listen to their parents’ conversations when they were not allowed to, but that could not deter an inquisitive teenager like me. Whenever I got a chance to collect clothes from the washing machine, I would hide behind the door of my mother’s bedroom and struggle to find out what my mom was saying on the phone despite her mellifluous but unclear dialect when talking with her sister, and the frustrating noise from our decrepit washing machine. Yet, one name stood clearly in the fragments I collected from her conversations with Aunt Li: Yuannan.
 
I didn’t know who Yuannan was, but this was probably the nickname of my cousin, Aunt Li’s daughter. Yuannan sounded like the dialect of a southern water town. I had never met her before since we lived in two faraway places. Nevertheless, my mom was by no means miserly in using her soft voice to compliment Yuannan. “...Yuannan is modest, even though she was excellent at studying.” “Don’t say so. Yuannan had done her best.” I could not understand why my mother was always praising a girl she had hardly seen. Every time I walked away from the balcony, my heart was as soggy as the clothes in my hands.
 
“It sounds like betrayal.” Two months ago, I squatted on the playground beside my best friend, the chilly breeze of early October flitting across us. “Yuannan must be your aunt’s daughter. You know, Chinese parents like to eulogize other people’s children and find fault with their own, though they don’t really mean it.” She cynically shrugged, “Your mother is just a typical Chinese mom.” “But she is so genuine...” I remonstrated in a faint voice, eyes fixed on the shuffling grass. “Don’t be so selfish. At least Yuannan is your cousin, not your enemy.” My friend patted my head gently.
 
My cousin wasn’t my enemy, was she? From those pieces of words in the southern dialect I had captured beside the clamoring washing machine, I knew that she was an intelligent, patient, and considerate girl who enjoyed reading complicated books and was good at history. “...Yuannan’s...those books are so intricate!” To make everything worse, I was also avid for history books, though I could not read those sophisticated ones like her. There was nothing more terrible than being beaten in my best fields. I could even imagine her taller, slimmer, and more beautiful than me.
 
To put it in a nutshell, a girl that surpassed me in every aspect. How could one beat an enemy that only lived in the other’s praise? How could I beat a girl who won more praise from my mom than me?
 
I tried to convince myself that Yuannan did nothing wrong, neither did my mom. It was me who behaved so unreasonably, but was it wrong for the only child in a family to demand the complete love of her mother?
 
I did not want my mom to know that I was spying on her conversations with Aunt Li, so I never mentioned the name Yuannan to her. But that evening, I made a small attempt. “It is a pity that I have not met Aunt Li’s daughter,” I asked my mom tentatively over the dinner table, trying to play it indifferently. “She’s a nice girl, several months older than you.” my mom put her chopsticks slowly, “you may see her this Spring Festival. You two will get along well, I believe.” My mom smiled reservedly, putting a spoonful of chicken soup into my already full bowl.
 
I was terrified at the idea of meeting Yuannan. “Is there no chance for me?” I murmured under the lamplight, facing that piece of ordinary score report. Yuannan would do far better than that. I knew it.
 
The racket of our aged washing machine stopped abruptly. I raised myself and, as usual, went to collect my soaked clothes.
 
That day came, anyway. Staring at the wall decorated with New Year paintings in our living room, I felt my heart beating madly. Finally, Yuannan, an enemy I had never known.
 
I reluctantly turned my head, catching a glimpse of my cousin. She was even taller, slimmer, and more beautiful than my imagination.
 
“Hi, Yuannan!” She hugged me, laughing.
 
“You called me what?” I frowned.
 
“Oh, I forgot. Yuannan is your nickname in our dialect.”