The long summer vacation passed, and Pei Chuan’s parents finally reached a compromise with each other.

The most suitable age for a child to be fitted with a prosthetic limb is between seven and fourteen years old. A body that’s too young and tender cannot endure the pain of practicing with prosthetics, so they ultimately decided to postpone this matter until Pei Chuan turned nine.

The start of elementary school was much livelier than preschool. In the early autumn of 1997, children from Preschool Class One correspondingly advanced to First Grade Class One, while children from Class Two went to register for Preschool Class Two.

Bei Yao discovered something miraculous with surprise—her mind now contained rather clear memories of fourth grade.

Two major events happened in fourth grade—the first was that the road from home to school was under construction, so children from Bei Yao’s residential complex had to take a detour to school every day.

The second was that in fourth grade, her uncle hit someone while driving and had to pay a huge sum in compensation. Her mother cried while using their savings to fill this bottomless pit.

Bei Yao was young and couldn’t think through these matters clearly. She only knew that both events meant something bad.

However, what could attract the attention of such a small child now was the new homeroom teacher. When they reached first grade, their homeroom teacher was called Hong Guanjing—a woman in her thirties with a bad temper. Bei Yao remembered that once when she made mistakes in her homework, this teacher had struck her palm.

She instinctively feared this unkind Chinese language teacher and homeroom teacher.

Bei Yao asked anxiously, “Mom, can I go study in First Grade Class Two instead?”

Zhao Zhilan held her and stepped over a puddle with one foot: “No, students from Preschool Class One can only go study in First Grade Class One.”

Bei Yao lay listlessly in Zhao Zhilan’s arms.

As it turned out, when they went to register, she discovered that the smiling female teacher was not Hong Guanjing, but rather a slender teacher who appeared intellectual. Her name was Cai Qingyu.

Bei Yao was stunned for a moment, then she remembered something important. In this lifetime, she had skipped one year of kindergarten, so her path was completely different from before. Originally, she should just now be attending preschool, so the teacher had changed too.

This meant that everything in the future was unknowable.

Bei Yao’s large eyes secretly observed this unfamiliar homeroom teacher. Cai Qingyu smiled as she registered her information, then praised Zhao Zhilan: “I’ve seen Bei Yao’s grades from preschool—very good.”

Zhao Zhilan hurriedly said, “Thank you, teacher. We’ll trouble you from now on.”

“You’re welcome.”

Cai Qingyu pondered for a moment, glanced at the small girl beside the mother, and asked Zhao Zhilan, “Are you and Pei Chuan from the same residential complex?”

“That’s right.”

“Good. Well, there’s nothing else. Students who’ve registered should come back to school tomorrow to study. We’ll distribute textbooks then.”

Cai Qingyu knew in advance that a hot potato would be coming to her class. She had even chatted with Yu Qian, the preschool teacher. She taught elementary school material and would teach the same grade for a full six years, which was quite difficult. Both the Chinese and math teachers were female teachers, and none of them would find it convenient to help the gradually growing Pei Chuan pull down his pants to use the toilet.

Yu Qian sighed: “He’s very sensitive. In preschool, he never once let me help him use the toilet. If possible, please take extra care of him.”

Cai Qingyu felt somewhat surprised inside.

She also knew that the growth trajectory of children with such disabilities was a curved path. Because of this, she paid special attention to several children in her class who were Pei Chuan’s neighbors.

Chen Hu, Fang Mingjun, Bei Yao, Li Da.

First Grade Class One had a total of 62 students. No one would sit alone—this time, Pei Chuan would have a deskmate.

However, according to Teacher Yu, this child showed no goodwill toward anyone. Whichever child became his deskmate would probably have a hard time.

On Pei Chuan’s first day of first grade, he arrived very early. Teacher Cai beckoned to him. This child’s gaze in the morning light was as silent as the sky at the break of dawn. He paused, then pushed his wheelchair toward Teacher Cai by himself.

Teacher Cai understood his personality, so she didn’t say much. She placed a paper with four names in front of him.

Teacher Cai smiled and said cheerfully, “Pei Chuan, the teacher will play a game with you. You point to one name, and that person will become your deskmate.”

Teacher Cai knew that Pei Chuan, who had only attended preschool, couldn’t read. She wanted to use this fair method to let the child choose a deskmate for himself.

Pei Chuan’s pitch-black eyes quietly looked at the four names.

He truly didn’t recognize them.

Except for Fang Mingjun, which had three characters—he could guess it was her. The other three names became a multiple-choice question before him.

He lowered his eyes.

The character “da” contained a “big” character that he recognized. He also guessed this name was “Li Da.”

That left only two choices.

He couldn’t eliminate any further.

He sat for a long time, until Cai Qingyu couldn’t help but urge him.

His gaze shifted slightly, falling quietly on the preschool grades spread out on the table. One score of 50, one score of 99. He glanced at them, then withdrew his gaze. Now he knew which name was Chen Hu and which name was Bei Yao.

The first lesson preschool taught him was that if he didn’t fight for things, he would have nothing.

Life wasn’t good to him. In this world, only selfish people would welcome the dawn. His finger passed over the first name on the paper and landed on the third name.

~

Bei Yao became deskmates with Pei Chuan again. She was extremely delighted, her almond eyes clear and bright like water grapes.

Her childish voice was soft and sweet: “Pei Chuan, tomorrow I’ll bring the little sticks so we can play together, okay?” Although her memories were several years ahead, her intellect was limited by this body—her childlike heart was adorably vivid and fresh.

Pei Chuan still didn’t speak. He pressed his lips together.

Everyone in the class had a new deskmate. He wasn’t a good person. He had deprived her of the three-quarters probability of not being his deskmate, only to gain the next six years.

Because her deskmate was Pei Chuan again, Bei Yao was extremely happy. She put the thin, colorful little sticks her mother bought into her schoolbag to play with Pei Chuan during breaks.

The little sticks were originally tools for the first-grade math teacher to use for teaching addition, subtraction, and counting, but Bei Yao knew there was also a game called pick-up sticks. First, you grip them all in your hand, then suddenly release them. The sticks scatter to various places on the desk, and then you pick them up one by one, but you can’t disturb the other sticks in the process. Whoever picks up the most wins.

In this era of material scarcity, this was a game all children loved to play, just like the bouncing ball game that would be popular in second and third grade.

Her small hand passed the sticks to him: “You go first.”

The person who goes first has an advantage. Every child wanted to fight for this first position. He looked at the innocent, clear eyes beside him and reached out to take them.

This was his first time playing such a game with a small girl.

However, he was as calm as if he weren’t a child at all. Her small hands were clumsy, but he could pick them up composedly.

In the end, out of a total of fifty sticks, he had 43 and Bei Yao had 7.

Pei Chuan held a large handful of colorful sticks in his hands. He looked at her. She blinked her eyes adorably, looking at the lonely seven sticks in her own hand, realizing for the first time that playing with Pei Chuan was no fun at all.

His expressionless face alone could leave her with no gaming experience whatsoever.

The young Pei Chuan didn’t know how to yield. He was like the stubborn young bamboo standing firm during the hailstorm of 1996, facing wind, rain, and battering, only to be broken by the wind in the end.

Bei Yao broke into a smile, revealing her baby teeth: “Pei Chuan is really amazing.”

Bei Yao continued playing with him, only to be thoroughly defeated by him all along.

He didn’t go easy on her. They played this game until math class finished teaching simple addition and subtraction, and she still couldn’t pick up more than ten sticks.

She was tender and soft, using a child’s greatest tolerance to accommodate his indifference.

However, in the second scorching summer, when second grade arrived, Pei Chuan, who never drank water at school, would bring an extra cup of water. Crossing that dividing line between their desks, the water cup would eventually appear on little Bei Yao’s desk.

~

Fang Mingjun was devastated.

In the final exams of first grade, her Chinese and math scores were 93 and 94 respectively, while Bei Yao scored 95 and 100. So throughout the entire second grade, she studied with her heart in her throat.

What devastated her even more was that the class’s first place, with perfect scores in both subjects, was that legless Pei Chuan.

Fang Mingjun nearly cried from anxiety. Finally, when Zhao Xiu asked about it, she said while crying, “Bei Yao copied from Pei Chuan’s test paper. Pei Chuan didn’t cover it.”

Zhao Xiu thought to herself that Zhao Zhilan’s daughter was really something—cheating at such a young age.

After figuring this out, she instead comforted Fang Mingjun: “It’s fine. In third grade, they’ll change seats for exams. I don’t believe she’ll still be able to copy from others.”

As for that first-place Pei Chuan, smart was smart, his mind worked well, but in the end he was disabled. No matter how capable, finding a job and marrying a wife would probably be problems. Which family would be willing to marry their daughter to someone like that?

As for Chen Hu, his performance remained stable at the bottom of the entire residential complex. Every exam, he was dead last.

~

Pei Chuan hated two subjects the most.

Music and physical education.

These were subjects that all children except him loved. In music class, they would learn to sing. Under the setting sun, the female teacher would pump the reed organ and teach the children to sing songs from the music textbook.

This music class, they sang “The Snail and the Oriole.”

He was seven years old and losing his baby teeth. Two front teeth were missing. Even at home, he rarely spoke. Strong self-esteem and shame made Pei Chuan listen in silence.

His little deskmate’s voice was clear and crisp, like a cheerful little bird on a branch in the morning.

Bei Yao hadn’t yet lost her childish voice. On her head were still two buns wrapped with ribbons. The teacher taught one line, she sang one line: “The snail carries that heavy shell, climbing up step by step~”

She was also losing her baby teeth, so her singing and speaking had a whistling sound, but she was very well-behaved. Whatever the teacher taught, she sang. The children’s crisp voices followed along for one round.

Music teacher Zhu frowned as she looked at Pei Chuan by the window in the third row.

She stopped pumping the organ and furrowed her brow: “Pei Chuan, why aren’t you singing along with everyone?”

Pei Chuan’s black pupils quietly looked at the teacher.

This child didn’t have the timidity toward teachers that other children had. His eyes were like stagnant water. He didn’t even respond verbally to Teacher Zhu’s words.

Teacher Zhu felt she’d lost face and felt an inexplicable disgust toward his cold, dark existence.

She said, “Your legs aren’t good, but you can clearly sing yet you don’t. Do you know this is disrespectful to the teacher?”

Pei Chuan remained tight-lipped and silent.

Teacher Zhu was furious. She wielded her authority as a teacher: “Starting now, I’ll sing one line, and you follow and sing one line!”