Little Herta displayed an unusual side from a very early age. She was curious about everything and interested in all things new.
You, too, demonstrated your unique musical talent early on. Long before other children could even babble, you had already shown a strong interest in vocal music.
Herta's mother was a renowned singer, gentle and meticulous. She had long noticed how you would slowly narrow your eyes in enjoyment whenever she plucked the strings.
"This child loves music…"
The gentle and intellectual woman reached her conclusion.
So every day, no matter how busy she was, she made time to play a song for you. This greatly accelerated the development of your Broca's area and the basal ganglia in your brain.
These are critical regions responsible for vocal music and rhythm.
Not only that, although you were still very young, you were handsome and adorable, exceedingly pleasant to look at.
Time passed gradually, and you and Herta turned one year old. It was only when Herta's parents were completing the adoption procedures that they discovered your birthday was the same as Herta's.
Herta's parents hosted a banquet at home to celebrate the children's first birthday.
They invited relatives and friends, and during the celebration, they also held a lottery ceremony for you.
Among the dazzling array of items, just as expected, you chose a microphone.
"This is a born singer…"
Herta's mother's eyes were filled with anticipation as she wondered what you would be like when you spoke for the first time.
"Yes, exactly."
Herta's father adjusted his thick glasses. He trusted his wife's judgment.
Everyone watched you with interest. Herta's parents greatly appreciated your choice and applauded softly in encouragement. For the sake of your upbringing, they told outsiders that you and Herta were fraternal twins.
In other words, to everyone else, you were a pair of twins, a boy and a girl.
Then it was Herta's turn for the lottery.
Little Herta crawled across the red carpet, seemingly uninterested in anything placed upon it.
Everyone fell silent, and her parents watched their daughter with curiosity.
Lipstick, wine glasses, chalk, drumsticks…
None of them caught her attention.
Books, piano keys, gold coins, medals…
None of them stirred her in the slightest.
She slowly crawled across the entire red carpet, stopping at the boundary between the carpet and the floor.
Her clear, bright eyes fixed on that boundary. A lively expression appeared on her chubby cheeks as she stared at the dividing line, slowly extending her small, tender hand to touch it.
Then, to everyone's astonishment, she boldly crawled off the red carpet.
At just one year old, she already seemed unwilling to be confined by such limits and was attempting to find things beyond them.
The lottery ceremony.
According to the rules, no one was allowed to interfere with a child's choice.
So everyone watched Herta in silence, curious about what she would gain from this ceremony.
Herta moved slowly across the cold floor, her gaze growing increasingly distant, as if she were searching for something.
Was it the exquisite vase not far away?
No. She passed it without stopping.
Or perhaps the musical instrument in the corner?
No. Herta paid no attention to that either.
She simply kept crawling.
At last, she reached the edge of the hall where the ceremony was being held. In front of her was a flight of stairs leading downward.
Each step was not very high, about twenty centimeters, like an ordinary staircase.
However, such a height was not something Herta, who was only one year old, could overcome.
Momentarily stunned, she raised her arm and reached toward the steps, about to descend.
The onlookers had not expected little Herta, who was supposed to be participating in the lottery, to crawl to such a place.
Those who had regained their senses wanted to intervene, but it was already too late.
She was about to fall down the stairs. Her tender arms could not support the weight of her body.
But a small hand grasped her tiny frame.
It was you.
You, who had already learned how to walk, approached Herta from behind and reached out to pull her back.
"Phew… Little Bai, well done!"
Herta's mother breathed a sigh of relief. She had not expected such a situation either and frowned slightly as she looked at her daughter.
She had never given anyone a moment of peace since the day she was born.
"She is looking beyond the limits."
Behind his thick glasses, Herta's father's eyes were calm and insightful.
His brief words left the guests present utterly stunned.
"This child is extraordinary."
"A future without limits. A true child of scholars."
Herta's father was a distinguished figure with significant academic achievements, and his colleagues from the academic world offered their congratulations.
"Mm."
He nodded slightly, his gaze passing over you before settling on the girl whose hand you were holding.
Did he want Herta to pursue scientific research as well? To become someone as unromantic as himself, with a mind full of formulas?
Herta's mother looked displeased. Herta was a delicate child, and although she would not interfere with her future path, out of maternal sentiment, she did not want her daughter to become a rigid, pedantic academic like her husband.
Her father smiled awkwardly. He had always held his wife in high regard. Looking at Herta, whom you were holding by the hand, he said gently:
"She may not possess the wisdom required to cross those boundaries."
"And even if she does, it will not be permitted."
Herta's mother's attitude was firm. She sincerely hoped her lovely daughter would not become like her husband, who was so absorbed in scientific research that he neglected his own appearance.
Her father laughed sheepishly and did not reply.
The lottery ceremony ended, and Herta's mother spent even more time playing the piano and singing for you both.
As for Herta—
Her curiosity was boundless. She delved into everything: the vast starry sky, ancient illustrated texts.
She seemed driven by an urgent need to explore them all.
Her father, who usually showed little emotion, could not help but smile broadly when he saw his daughter like this.
Although Herta's mother harbored some reservations, when she saw little Herta excited after successfully assembling a high-level Rubik's Cube, she had no choice but to yield.
She picked up Herta, brought her close, and planted an indulgent kiss on her precious daughter.
"You're a little genius, sweetheart."
However, as Herta's mother looked at you listening to music nearby and at little Herta in her arms, a sudden spark of inspiration ignited in her heart.
"Little Bai is a boy, yet he can perceive the charm of music from a very early age. He seems to be a highly emotional child."
"And Herta, who normally pays no attention to music, can easily solve a high-level Rubik's Cube at such a young age. She is clearly a rational being, just like her father…"
"And what if…"
The corners of Herta's mother's lips curved slightly upward. Looking at you, who were already able to sing simple songs, she called out to you.
"Come here, Little Bai. Let's review today's lesson."
You, still a child, did not understand why, but you obediently approached Herta's mother.
You began to softly sing a lullaby she often sang to both you and Herta.
You gently opened your mouth.
Childlike innocence and harmonious music intertwined. Your singing deeply moved Herta's mother, despite her exacting standards.
After the song ended, she looked at Herta, who had fallen asleep in her arms at some point, and bent down to gently rub her head.
"That was wonderful, good girl. In the future, you should sing more songs to your younger sister."