According to all the old stories, I ought to have been jealous of my older sister, Emily Wai-Yee, for having all the things I did not: fine features, pale skin, dark eyes as gorgeous as those of the Cantonese-speaking movie star Lee Yi-Nin in The Modern Bride. In truth, I was not. I admired her and looked up to her. I willingly involved myself in all her exploits. Sometimes, because I could see she was not too bright, I saw it as my duty to take care of her. If she wanted to slip the eagle eye of Amah and the safety of our home in the Mid-Levels to go the flower market and charm a free peony from the flower sellers, I’d go with her to make sure she didn’t get hurt or abducted. When she wanted to stow away in the trunk of Driver Lim’s brand new motor car and go for a joyride, I stowed away with her so she wouldn’t get in trouble alone. If she wanted a roll of haw flakes or a handful of White Rabbit candy, I’d sneak it from Mama’s purse for her. When she became vain in her teens, I’d buy her hair clips, face powder, and Florida water. I once even got her a lipstick, but Mama said Emily was not that kind of girl and took it away. After Mama died, Emily found the lipstick in Mama’s vanity and started wearing it again. And again, I took it away. Though I was a year younger than her, she had no one but me to look after her anymore. But then she went and cut her hair and had it permanently waved. There was nothing I could do about that. My sister was beautiful and innocent. She had a mischievous streak, but because of her beauty, the mischief was often more charming than annoying, though sometimes it was annoying too.