Chapter 50

When they arrived at the kindergarten, the teacher was already standing at the entrance to greet them. The doorway was bustling with activity, as many children were either lying on the ground or crying loudly in their parents' arms, their cries overlapping and creating a continuous chorus.

Lang Xiao and Hu Yuanfei were a bit worried that their child might cry, but in fact, Qing Yao was beaming with joy as she ran through the school gate. It was Qing Li who reminded Qing Yao to say goodbye to the two adults.

She turned around and waved somewhat perfunctorily. “Bye, Mom and Dad, I’m going to school now!”

Then, without a hint of hesitation, she turned and walked into the corridor.

Hu Yuanfei, overcome with emotion, placed his hand over his chest. “She went in so quickly, I haven’t even had time to get a good look. Suddenly she’s not by my side, and I feel a bit unsettled.”

Pouting, he tiptoed forward, hoping to catch Qing Yao rushing back out to cry and say she didn’t want to go to school because she missed them.

But after waiting for a while, he saw no sign of her returning.

A nearby parent, having just sent her child inside, couldn’t help but ask with envy, “Is your child in the middle class?”

Lang Xiao replied, “She’s in the junior class.”

“Oh! It’s the first day as well, but why hasn’t she cried at all? I just saw her happily rushing ahead. My child has been crying since the day before yesterday; every time we mention school, he starts crying like school is some terrible fate. What will we do for all those years? I think he might struggle with learning. Your child is really lucky—so well-behaved and sensible.”

Hearing such admiration felt comforting, and Hu Yuanfei no longer felt upset. He immediately boasted about how capable their child was—already making milk for himself at two years old, now dressing, putting on shoes, washing hands and face, and carrying his own backpack.

As if these skills were extraordinary.

Indeed, they were remarkable. The neighboring parent’s eyes widened in envy. “So young and already knows so much! How do you teach her?”

Hu Yuanfei chuckled, “No special teaching. She’s just naturally smart.”

Lang Xiao couldn’t bear to watch him boast so aimlessly and tugged at his collar to pull him away.

“Let’s go, time for work.”

By then, Qing Yao had parted ways with Qing Li and, led by the teacher, found her classroom. She was in the same class as Qing Lai. The junior class limited the number of students to twenty-five, but only two or three children had arrived so far—they were early.

The teacher was still greeting children at the door, while inside, the caretakers were busy soothing crying kids.

Qing Yao took her seat and sat quietly next to Qing Lai for a while but soon grew restless and began to wander around the classroom. She inspected the small table on the podium, then circled the toy area and the exercise zone, touching everything as if everything were a marvel.

Qing Lai followed closely behind her like a little shadow.

When Qing Yao returned to her seat, she found that a little girl had taken her spot.

The girl had a bowl haircut, dark shiny hair, and large, round eyes like a pitiful little kitten. Tear marks were still visible on her face as she wiped her cheeks with her arm. When she lifted her arm, fresh scabs on her elbow could be seen, and there were also bruises on her exposed lower leg.

Qing Yao stood in front of her for a long moment, silently staring.

Only then did the girl notice her presence. She shrank back, frightened, her voice trembling as she asked, “W-what are you doing?”

Qing Yao replied kindly, “My name is Liu Qing Yao, you can just call me Qing Yao.” She didn’t mention that the girl was sitting in her seat. Instead, she moved a stool from behind and sat beside her. “What’s your name?”

Having someone to talk to made the girl forget to cry. In a small, tender voice, she said, “I’m Li Mengxin.”

“Why are you crying?” Qing Yao asked further.

Li Mengxin was taken aback, then remembered her mother who had just left. Her eyes, which had just cleared, filled with tears again. “Mommy, mommy left. Boohoo.”

Qing Yao raised her hand to wipe away the tears. “Don’t cry. Mom will come get you after school. She went to work to earn money for the family. Look, we’re all here on our own.”

The caretaker, who was soothing other children nearby, glanced at Qing Yao twice. At this age, most children’s expressions are not very clear, and their speech is often muddled, but Qing Yao spoke clearly and logically, and was so good at comforting others.

Li Mengxin looked around the classroom. By now, several more children had arrived, filling half the room, all without parents.

Everyone was just like her.

She stopped crying, but the ongoing cries from the newly arrived children made her eyes well up again. Not wanting to lose face in front of her new friend, she pressed her lips tightly to hold back any sound.

Qing Yao glanced toward the door. At that moment, Li Mengxin suddenly seemed to be pushed or tripped, falling forward with her hands and knees hitting the floor, her chair toppling to the side.

The sharp pain in her palms and knees broke down her resistance, and she burst into loud sobs. The teacher and caretaker rushed over to help.

“What happened? Are you okay? Are you bleeding? Your knee is scraped—quick, bring the first aid kit!”

The caretaker hurried to fetch the medical box, while the teacher lifted Li Mengxin’s pants and found that the scab on her scraped knee had reopened, fresh blood streaming out.

The teacher frowned; this child seemed prone to injuries.

She looked at the empty seat behind — no one was sitting there, and no child had entered during that time, so it was unlikely anyone had pushed her deliberately.

Perhaps she had poor coordination. The teacher resolved to keep a closer eye on her in the future.

Meanwhile, Qing Yao’s gaze shifted behind Li Mengxin, where a ghastly, triumphant child—or rather, a ghost—stood.

The ghost looked much smaller, like a newborn infant. Its body was mottled with purple bruises, hair sparse, with a split on its head as if it had been cut open. One arm was dislocated, hanging limply.

It looked proudly at the crying Li Mengxin, muttering curses: “I’ll kill you, you idiot, you useless brat.”

Noticing Qing Yao’s gaze, the ghost turned in mild surprise. Then, its eyes brightened as it suddenly tore the cracked split on its head wide open, blood and brain matter spilling onto its face and body, creeping forward in a horrifying display to scare Qing Yao.

But Qing Yao, raised by a great demon, had seen many strange sights with her two companions. Having encountered ghosts before, she merely moved her stool back slightly, tucked her toes carefully beneath it, and disdainfully said, “You’re so dirty, dripping blood on the floor. I don’t like dirty ghosts.”

The ghost, trying to frighten her, froze in confusion. “Dirty?”

Looking down, it noticed the blood pooling on the floor, flowing toward Qing Yao’s feet.

Qing Yao edged back again, her stool bumping into the one behind her.

She stood up and fetched a mop from the corner of the classroom, dragging it over to start cleaning the floor. Her movements were practiced, suggesting she was no stranger to chores at home.

Teacher Meng Tan and caretaker Auntie Wang, who were tending to Li Mengxin’s wounds, were stunned by her actions. What was this child doing? Did she really enjoy doing chores this much?

The little ghost, disheartened by the mopping, roared in frustration and lunged at her.

Qing Yao acted as if she didn’t see it, continuing to mop diligently.

Just as the ghost was about to pounce, a force suddenly struck it away.

Qing Lai, standing behind, had intervened. With a mind far beyond his years, Qing Lai knew not to act wildly in the classroom. His subtle, measured movement was more of a warning glare aimed fiercely at the ghost stuck to the ceiling. His eyes radiated a deadly aura, and the ghost seemed frightened.

The ghost did not expect another powerful spirit here. It glared at the two children warily, then vanished with a flash, disappearing into Li Mengxin’s body. It seemed it had been attached to her all along.

As the ghost faded, the blood on the floor vanished too.

Qing Yao looked down at the now-clean floor, then prepared to return the mop, but the caretaker promptly took it from her.

“Here, let me put it away. Go back to your seat now.”

Qing Yao moved her stool back and sat down. Li Mengxin’s wound was bandaged and covered, and she was being held by Teacher Meng, who comforted her. The pain was still sharp, and she sobbed quietly.

Qing Yao felt sure it must hurt a lot.

She opened her bag and pulled out some candy, offering one to Qing Lai and another to Li Mengxin.

“Eat this candy. It will stop the pain.”

Li Mengxin looked at the candy with tearful eyes but didn’t reach for it immediately. Qing Yao quickly unwrapped the candy and pressed it into her mouth.

It was sweet, fruity flavored.

With tears still brimming, Li Mengxin finally stopped crying.

Qing Yao patted the seat beside her. “Come sit here.”

Li Mengxin struggled out of the teacher’s arms and onto the stool. Teacher Meng gently patted Qing Yao’s head with gratitude.

“I remember your name is Liu Qing Yao, right? You’re such a good child.”

Receiving praise, Qing Yao touched the spot the teacher had patted and quietly whispered to Qing Lai, “The teacher praised me.”

Qing Lai nodded vigorously. “I heard it. You’re awesome.”

“Hehe.”

Qing Yao felt that school was wonderful. She liked going to school.

On the first day, there was no formal teaching; the teachers were already exhausted from trying to soothe the children, whose cries never ceased. Even patient Qing Yao grew restless. Many of the children nearby knew her, and this year, many were starting school with her. Out of the twenty-five children in the class, she recognized half.

So, while the teachers were still comforting kids one by one, Qing Yao stood up and loudly declared,

“Stop crying! Crying at school isn’t what good children do. We won’t be friends with anyone who cries. I have candy here—anyone who doesn’t cry can come get some.”

She opened her backpack and poured out a large pile of candy—her favorite fruit candies. For the sake of her teeth, her family only allowed her one candy a day, so she treasured them. But the night before, she had packed all her candies into her bag.

“Non-cryers can come and get candy here. If you come late, there won’t be any left.”

Her loud voice quickly drew the attention of every child. The candies were colorful and shiny, very appealing. Soon, a bold little child stepped forward.

“I didn’t cry! Can I have one?”