My name is Yuanyuan. I was born in the 80s and 90s in the tail. I am the second child in my family. Because my skin was dark when I was born, the elders in the compound always called me "Black Peony". I was also a child when I was a child. I was happy that adults called me this, but when I started to grow up and have the shyness of a little girl, I really hated this so-called "black peony".

Oh, I forgot to tell you a little secret. The nickname "Black Peony" caused me to have no self-confidence for a long time, so at noon when all the parents were out, I quietly dug out a small bowl of flour from the noodle vat, and then scooped out a bowl from the large water vat. Water made the first bowl of "facial mask" in my life.

At that time, every house in the courtyard had a courtyard door. In order to allow the "facial mask" to be better absorbed, I closed the door tightly and fastened it with an iron chain from the inside. Then I found the flour bag at home and spread it in the yard. I touched the slushy flour on my face vigorously. It was not enough for my forehead. One more handful. My cheeks were not enough. One more handful. I will definitely have a seed that will not give up until it is white. The strength. After applying it, I lay on the flour bag and exposed to the sun (if there was Internet at that time, if I had read Big S’s beauty diary at that time, it’s a pity that the Internet era has not yet come, alas). In order to prevent the batter from leaking out, I put a towel around my chin, but the batter still ran along my face, along my temples, and into my hair. I closed my eyes and waited for the sun to dry the flour paste on my face. There is actually a reason for everything you do. Sometimes miracles happen because of your own arrangements, or because of a push from outside forces. And I am the latter.

Because when I was a child, the black and white TV at home could only receive one channel. Later, when I got cable TV, I could watch many, many programs. I remember there was a foreign TV show where a beautiful woman was lying lazily on the beach in a bikini, basking in her beautiful back, and applying white sunscreen, which was called sunbathing. I had an idea at that time, and I thought that anything white would be good. It can be whitened, which then led to the birth of a bowl of whitening roux.

As I dried in the sun, I felt that the flour paste on my face had dried up into a big, hard pot. I plucked the flour in front of my eyes with my hands, and a few pieces of flour residue fell off. I hit the carp hard but didn't get up, hahaha.

I got up and quickly looked in the mirror in front of the washbasin. Hahaha, there are many ravines on the face, and there are small openings, which are winding and miserable. There are still solidified flour residues in the hair on the forehead.

I dug hard, and if I couldn't get it off, I rubbed it with both hands. After a while, the washbasin and the ground were full of flour residue that I had dug out. In this way, the hair cannot be pulled out, and it sticks to the hair along the hair. The more I dig, the more anxious and scared I become, but whatever you are afraid of, come on.

The courtyard door was pushed hard, and the iron chain buckled inside made a clang, and my mother was back. It's over, it's over, I know I can't get away with this fight.

I hurriedly ran to open the door for my mother. As soon as she saw me, she burst out laughing. Then she held down my butt and gave me two beautiful slaps, and then lifted the collar on the back of my head like a baby. He "caught" me like a chicken. In an instant, my deafening cries rang out in the yard.

Actually, he didn’t hit me at all after entering the house. He just pressed me down to wash my hair. The flour residue in my hair was washed and pulled with water, and it felt like my scalp was about to fall off.

I forgot how many basins of water I washed. I only remember that after I washed my hair, my mother asked me to stand in the sun. Although I was reluctant, I still went for "sunbathing". If you can’t get whiter, you can always get a little darker. This was the first highlight of my life when I became more beautiful and whiter.

I am a mother born in the 1980s, and I would like to share my childhood stories with you.