Teacher Yu Qian didn’t agree with the plan Teacher Zheng proposed. Pre-school had been in session for some time now, and she had discovered that the child Pei Chuan had never once raised his hand to ask the teacher for help going to the bathroom.

Yu Qian saw the little boy’s cracked lips in the summer heat and immediately understood what was happening.

Pei Chuan was a child with sensitive self-respect. Although his emotional changes weren’t significant, no one knew what was in his heart. If changing seats would cause him tremendous harm, Yu Qian felt it wasn’t a good idea.

However, the matter Teacher Zheng brought up about Pei Chuan pushing Bei Yao also put Yu Qian in a difficult position.

If Pei Chuan was really bullying little Bei Yao, it wouldn’t be appropriate to have little Bei Yao continue sitting with him.

Yu Qian thought it over and decided to observe for one more day before deciding.

In the morning, Teacher Yu brought Fang Mingjun to the classroom and had her introduce herself to the children.

Four-year-old little friend Fang Mingjun wore a white princess dress with soft, long hair flowing down. Because she constantly remembered to imitate Chang Xue’s every smile and frown, her childish little face showed no expression. She said seriously: “My name is Fang Mingjun. I’m four years old this year. I hope to get along well with all the little friends.”

These were words Fang Mingjun’s father, Fang Xin, had taught her. When Fang Mingjun spoke them, Teacher Yu Qian led the applause. Fang Mingjun this year was undoubtedly clean and beautiful. The classroom filled with sincere applause.

Inside Bei Yao’s green jacket was a cotton, tender yellow pullover short-sleeve shirt, and below were bean-green shorts reaching her knees.

These bright colors were lively and hid dirt well. She never had white clothes as a child—Zhao Zhilan was afraid little children would get them dirty.

In the whole class, probably only Fang Mingjun could wear a white princess dress.

Fang Mingjun was temporarily arranged to sit alone at the first desk specially set up by the classroom door. Being young, she felt somewhat wronged.

Fang Mingjun thought: everyone else has a deskmate, but she doesn’t. It wasn’t like this in kindergarten—the kindergarten children all liked playing with her. Moreover, even Pei Chuan, who had no legs, had a deskmate. Why did she have to sit alone? Wasn’t it always Pei Chuan who sat alone before? She wanted to go home, wanted her mom. But seeing Bei Yao putting away her school bag on the far left of the classroom, she felt she couldn’t go back!

After the first class, Fang Mingjun was immediately surrounded by several children.

There were little friends who had attended kindergarten with her before, and also little friends who thought Fang Mingjun was pretty and resembled Sister Chang Xue from TV. With everyone’s attention, Fang Mingjun’s heart felt a bit better.

Bei Yao carefully took out a washed apple from her school bag.

The big apple was bright red—Zhao Zhilan had prepared it, afraid she’d be hungry at pre-school.

She looked at it lovingly, then turned to look at Pei Chuan: “Pei Chuan, do you want to eat an apple?”

Pei Chuan was writing characters in the grid squares of his exercise book. September sunlight shone in from outside the window near the door. The area by the window was somewhat dim. Pei Chuan lowered his eyes, his dark pupils falling on the exercise book, not speaking. He ignored her, so Bei Yao understood—this meant he didn’t want it, don’t bother him.

She happily turned around and asked Ni Hui and Gu Xinghua if they wanted some.

Both children in the back row nodded.

Pei Chuan gripped his pencil tightly. Being small, he couldn’t keep his composure. He turned to look. His little deskmate’s head was tilted as she used a small knife to divide the apple. The ribbon on her flower bun trembled. She was having a hard time cutting it.

His gaze moved to that small knife—it was the knife Bei Yao used to sharpen pencils. Perhaps because the girl’s mother had taught her, Bei Yao had carefully washed the knife with water before starting to cut. The corners of his mouth pressed into a straight line.

Pei Chuan was unhappy.

He didn’t eat apples. If Bei Yao ate it herself, Pei Chuan had no opinion. But Ni Hui and Gu Xinghua eating it—that uncontrollable irritated emotion instantly and uncontrollably arose again.

This obedient, foolish little dumpling with a good temper made his displeasure and irritability reach their peak.

When Bei Yao was dividing the apple, Chen Hu came over.

The chubby one was greedy and had a relatively thick face. He asked little Bei Yao for apple. Little Bei Yao’s third-grade memories were also very simple—she didn’t have many complicated thoughts in her heart. She generously gave him some.

Chen Hu bit into the sweet apple, his cheeks bulging in and out, magnanimously saying: “Bei Yao, during New Year this year, I’ll take you to catch sparrows.”

Bei Yao’s almond eyes were bright and clear as she smiled and nodded.

Chen Hu hummed a song and left.

Pei Chuan’s pencil lead suddenly broke.

He suddenly realized that little Bei Yao was good to everyone. He wasn’t the special one. What a waste that he thought… what a waste that he thought…

He lowered his eyes, took out his small knife, and began sharpening his pencil.

His fingertips were pale, but his pencil sharpening was even more efficient than her apple cutting.

Bei Yao didn’t know Pei Chuan was unhappy. Pei Chuan, who always had a cold face, had the same expression whether happy or unhappy. She had memories spanning five years, but her mentality was still that of a small child.

This was the hottest day of September. The afternoon sun hung high, with temperatures comparable to midsummer. During the afternoon class, Bei Yao kept drinking water. She had a sweet tooth, so she put a little bit of white sugar in her water. There wasn’t much water in the bottle either, because usually when she finished her water, she would ask Pei Chuan for his.

The water in his cup was always full. He never drank a sip himself. Often when Bei Yao looked at him eagerly, he would give it all to her.

Bei Yao finished her own water and turned her head to look at Pei Chuan.

The boy’s eyelashes were also long, but not curled. When he lowered his eyes, they concealed the emotions in them well. His profile had a severity beyond delicate features.

“Pei Chuan, I want to drink water.” Her little baby voice was soft and gentle. She uncapped her water bottle and stretched her little arm forward, asking him for water.

Usually at this time, Pei Chuan would unscrew his water bottle and pour it into her cup.

However, today Pei Chuan didn’t move. She looked at him eagerly.

He slowly raised his eyes, his dark pupils looking at her.

—I’m not happy.

His eyes couldn’t yet conceal emotions well, but Bei Yao couldn’t read them. She looked at him blankly, thinking she understood his meaning, and happily placed the water bottle on his side of the desk.

Pei Chuan: “…”

Pei Chuan pushed her water bottle back, then took out a pencil and clearly drew a “38th parallel line” across the wooden desk from one screw end to the other.

He divided it meticulously, not taking advantage of her by half a point, but also not yielding to Bei Yao in the slightest.

A small wooden desk that wasn’t big to begin with, split equally between two people.

His attitude was cold and hard, blocking her out.

Bei Yao stared blankly.

Wasn’t this a boundary line that only appeared in first or second grade? Were she and Pei Chuan the earliest little friends in class to have a “38th parallel”?

She sadly discovered that this little boy disliked her.

Yu Qian in front of the podium frowned watching this scene. Could it be that Teacher Zheng was right—Pei Chuan didn’t like Bei Yao, and even sitting together he would bully her?

If this was really the case, and Pei Chuan wasn’t willing to be deskmates with little Bei Yao either, then it would be best to have Bei Yao sit with Fang Mingjun.

Teacher Yu decided to ask the children for their thoughts. She had already asked Fang Mingjun before. Fang Mingjun had said: “Teacher, I want to sit together with a little friend.”

So then she would ask Pei Chuan.

Before Pei Haobin came to pick up Pei Chuan after school, there was still some time. Teacher Yu pushed the wheelchair and had Pei Chuan wait in the teacher’s office first. She asked the little boy: “Do you not want to sit together with little friend Bei Yao?”

Pei Chuan raised his face.

His dark eyes were very pure, like the deep touch of black inside glass marbles from that era.

He didn’t speak. Yu Qian had no choice but to be honest with this little boy: “Now a little sister has come to class, named Fang Mingjun. Little Chuan met her today too. The teacher wants to ask you—do you want to sit alone, sit together with little friend Bei Yao, or sit together with little friend Fang Mingjun?”

Yu Qian’s heart was anxious. She was most afraid of hearing the last answer.

Although this was a multiple choice question for Pei Chuan, seemingly putting the initiative in Pei Chuan’s hands, Teacher Yu was afraid he would choose Fang Mingjun. After all, if Pei Chuan was willing, Fang Mingjun would most likely be unwilling.

But this child Fang Mingjun was indeed delicate and pretty, with the title of “Little Jade Maiden.” If Pei Chuan chose Fang Mingjun, it would be the most difficult to handle.

September hadn’t yet brought autumn’s coolness. Pei Chuan’s lips and throat were dry to the point of stabbing pain.

He said in a tone so low Yu Qian almost couldn’t hear: “I’ll be alone.”

When Teacher Yu heard this answer, she breathed a sigh of relief, but at the same time felt somewhat melancholy in her heart. She said gently: “Xiao Chuan, little children need to drink more water for their bodies to be healthy. If you want to use the bathroom, you can find the teacher. Teacher Yu is very happy to take care of you. Don’t hold it in when you need to pee, understand?”

Pei Chuan didn’t respond.

When he said “I’ll be alone,” although he tried to remain as calm as possible, he was only five years old this year after all. His eye sockets felt sore and achy, almost dropping tears. This was already his limit—he couldn’t calmly answer the teacher’s second question.

After the children left, Teacher Yu Qian told Teacher Zheng about Pei Chuan’s answer.

Teacher Zheng nodded: “This is quite good. Tomorrow explain it to Bei Yao and have her go sit with Fang Mingjun.”

This was the only way.

When she came to class the next morning, Bei Yao had already forgotten yesterday’s unpleasantness. She pulled open her school bag and took out a small, cute bamboo dragonfly from inside.

The bamboo dragonfly’s sharp corners and small wooden splinters had been removed and it was polished to look simple and endearing.

Bei Yao didn’t understand why she had made Pei Chuan unhappy yesterday. Last night when she went home, after thinking about it, she begged her father to make her a “little dragonfly.”

She helped Bei Licai sweep the floor. The four-year-old girl holding a broom looked both comical and struggled with the effort. Bei Licai didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, so he had no choice but to make her a beautiful bamboo dragonfly.

At this moment, Bei Yao passed the bamboo dragonfly over: “This can fly.” Bei Yao demonstrated for him. Her little hand gripped the bamboo stick and rubbed it back and forth. The horizontal propeller “wings” began to rotate. Bei Yao let go, and the bamboo dragonfly flew out, flying to the front corner of the classroom where it hit the wall and slowly fell down.

She used little force, so the bamboo dragonfly didn’t fly far.

Pei Chuan looked at her. A light breeze came through the window, blowing her fine strands of hair and the ribbon on her flower bun. She happily ran over to pick it up, spread out her little hand, and gave him the bamboo dragonfly: “For you. Don’t be angry.”

Pei Chuan couldn’t describe the feeling in his heart.

That little hand, as if it never learned its lesson, crossed over their mutual “boundary between Chu and Han.” Tender and soft, clearly without a bit of aggression, yet it made him feel inexplicably distressed.

He also ignored the existence of that dividing line, taking the bamboo dragonfly with a few parts of indescribable melancholy, and sure enough saw her almond eyes light up in an instant.

Mid-September, about to enter autumn. She lowered her head to flip open the water bottle lid and drink water, her little face almost buried inside the water bottle.

She knew nothing—didn’t know he had long “abandoned” her, and didn’t know he was no longer angry.

Pei Chuan’s pale hand stroked the bamboo dragonfly. His father was an excellent criminal police officer but didn’t know how to make toys like this. This was the first time he had seen a lifeless object fly up lightly on its own. Pei Chuan didn’t need toys like this. He had no legs. If he let it fly, he couldn’t pick it back up himself.

The only thing he could do was hold it in his hand.

After class, Teacher Yu Qian said: “Bei Yao, go sit at student Fang Mingjun’s place.” As soon as these words came out, the noisy pre-school class quieted for a moment. The children all subconsciously glanced at Pei Chuan, then glanced at Fang Mingjun.

Bei Yao clutched the little panda on her school bag, stunned as she raised her eyes. She first looked at Teacher Yu Qian, who didn’t seem to be joking, then looked at Fang Mingjun at the far right of the classroom with her serious face despite her young age. Finally, she turned to look at Pei Chuan.

Her eyes held childishness and innocence, like mist rendered in an ink wash painting, as if puzzledly asking him why the teacher was making her leave?

Pei Chuan shifted his eyes away, calmly and indifferently looking at his own empty pant legs.