Cen Huai’an sat on the far-right sofa with Jiang Weixi, holding Little Flower in his arms.

Chuxia and Luo Peng listened as Cen Huai’an comforted Xixi.

He didn’t directly tell Jiang Weixi that Little Flower was a dog and couldn’t call her “sister.”

Instead, he explained it as if the puppy were a real person.

“Little Flower is still young. Xixi, when you were little, you couldn’t talk either. When Little Flower grows up to be as big as Hei Zi,” Cen Huai’an pointed at Hei Zi, “then when you ask it to call you sister, it will bark.”

“Why does it bark?” Jiang Weixi wanted to hear “sister” instead.

“Because Little Flower doesn’t speak the same language as us,” Cen Huai’an explained.

Jiang Weixi’s eyes lit up, and she exclaimed in her childish voice, “A foreigner!”

“Yes.”

Jiang Weixi beamed as she hugged the puppy, no longer fixated on making it call her sister.

Instead, she affectionately said, “Foreign friend, foreign little brother.”

Luo Peng glanced at Cen Huai’an, then at Chuxia, her eyes filled with admiration. “Chuxia, An An is really clever.”

She hadn’t thought of comforting her daughter in such a way.

Though it was a bit of an exaggerated lie, this fairy tale-like explanation was perfect for Jiang Weixi’s age.

Chuxia’s eyes curved into a smile, filled with pride. “I think so too.”

Jiang Zhida burst out laughing. “Cousin-in-law, while that’s true, couldn’t you be a little modest?”

Chuxia shrugged. “Why be modest? It’s the truth.”

Especially in front of close family, Chuxia didn’t want to hide her pride in An An. She felt incredibly lucky to have a son like him.

After Jiang Zhida and Jiang Weixi took Little Black and Little Flower home, Cen Huai’an’s mood suddenly dropped as he looked at the now-empty living room, with only Little Spot left.

He crouched down and gently petted Little Spot’s head, speaking softly. “Your brother and sister have gone to another home, so now it’s just you here with us. But don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you.”

That evening, Cen Zhengnian returned home and noticed that two of the puppies were gone.

He paused for a moment. “Little Black and Little Flower were taken away?”

“Yes, Dazi came today.”

Cen Zhengnian rubbed his temples, his face showing clear exhaustion. “Sorry, I’ve been really busy lately.”

Chuxia saw the dark circles under his eyes. Despite being forced to go to bed earlier, he was getting up even earlier, and his sleep was still not enough.

Her eyes reflected concern.

“How long will you be busy?”

Cen Zhengnian shook his head. “I’m not sure.”

“An An’s national competition is coming up soon. Either you or I must go with him. Otherwise, I won’t feel at ease.”

Guilt flashed in Cen Zhengnian’s eyes. He placed his hand on Chuxia’s shoulder, pulling her into his arms, and sighed deeply.

Chuxia understood what he meant; she knew that Cen Zhengnian couldn’t take time off to accompany An An.

“Alright, I’ll go then.”

Chuxia had originally planned to go herself anyway.

Cen Zhengnian’s work was something no one could change.

This had always been the case; it was impossible to have it all.

“I feel like I’m not doing my job well.”

Chuxia nodded. “Good that you know. Just remember to treat me and An An better. Otherwise, if we get upset and leave, we won’t bring you along.”

Cen Zhengnian looked up at Chuxia, the sadness in his heart turning into a mixture of laughter and helplessness at her words. “Chuxia, you know that I’m only afraid of not treating you two well enough.”

Chuxia nodded matter-of-factly. “Exactly. But if I don’t remind you often, what if you forget?”

Cen Zhengnian replied, “I won’t.”

He had just received his stipend today and handed all of it to Chuxia, his way of compensating her.

But he knew it wasn’t enough.

Chuxia was satisfied; Cen Zhengnian’s stipend was considerable, enough to comfortably support their family with some left over.

Truthfully, Cen Zhengnian’s financial support allowed Chuxia to focus entirely on her studies.

Otherwise, she would’ve been more concerned with making money rather than pursuing her university dreams.

April arrived quickly, bringing spring’s warmth and blooming flowers throughout Beijing.

Chuxia’s graduation date drew nearer, and Cen Huai’an received notification of the national competition schedule.

Cen Huai’an was the only student from his affiliated high school to participate in the national math competition.

In all of Beijing, only about ten students were selected, representing different schools.

Since the students were going together, choosing the accompanying teachers was crucial, as they would also guide the students.

The lead teachers included two well-known math Olympiad instructors from affiliated schools in Beijing, though none were Cen Huai’an’s teachers.

Besides the teachers, there were also a few parents like Chuxia accompanying the students.

Most parents didn’t come, trusting that the schools would handle the transportation, accommodation, and overall arrangements better than they could.

Chuxia chose to go because Cen Huai’an was much younger than the others, who were several years older than him.

She couldn’t rest easy leaving him alone.

Jiang Zhiguan also entrusted Zhang Lu to Chuxia, giving her full authority to handle him if he misbehaved.

Chuxia paid her way to accompany the teachers and students, traveling on the same bus to the train station and then taking the train to the competition location.

The national competition wasn’t held in Beijing but in Dongcheng, with the host city changing every time.

The hard seats on the train were an ordeal—more uncomfortable than the soft sleepers, packed and filled with all sorts of odors.

Dongcheng was almost at the northernmost part of the country, far from Beijing.

The green train was slow, and at night there was no place to rest, so passengers could only sleep with their heads on the table.

Chuxia asked the teachers accompanying them, “Adults can endure long train rides, but these children are so young. They can’t sleep well at night on the train. Will they manage?”

The chaperone teachers, one male and one female, were math Olympiad teachers and members of the Beijing Mathematical Society.

The male teacher was Mr. Jin, and the female teacher was Ms. Xing.

Mr. Jin gave a wry smile and said, “We would have preferred for the children to travel by sleeper train or plane, but the math society doesn’t have the funds for that right now.”

Chuxia sighed inwardly.

She could have used her own money to book sleeper tickets for An An and Zhang Lu, but since the other students and teachers were all in hard seats, it wouldn’t be appropriate to do so.

So, she decided to endure it.

Chuxia was just relieved that the seats for the students and teachers were together.

There were no intolerable passengers taking off their shoes, and despite being a bit cramped, it wasn’t too unbearable.

Cen Huai’an adapted to the environment faster than Chuxia.

He had quietly taken out a book to read—it was a supernatural novel he had bought at a second-hand book stall during the Lantern Festival, and he was only now getting around to reading it.

Some of the other students, having never been on a train before, were excitedly looking around and chatting with their classmates.

Zhang Lu was sitting with An An and Chuxia.

Their school had sent two people, but not Liu Hongyu, the first-place student. Instead, there was a somewhat reserved boy sitting opposite Chuxia and the others.

Zhang Lu was feeling quite bored.

With An An reading a book and the student across from her not talking, and her aunt sitting next to An An, she was feeling quite isolated.

Zhang Lu glanced out the window, then looked at the student opposite, then at An An.

Finally, she couldn’t stand it anymore and leaned over to look at Cen Huai’an’s book. “‘Strange Tales’?”

Zhang Lu read out the book’s title, finding it peculiar. “An An, what kind of book is this? I’ve never seen it before.”

Cen Huai’an, who had only read halfway through a story, placed the book between them and said, “It’s a story about a fox.”

Zhang Lu became interested and leaned over to read the book with An An.

Chuxia, overhearing their conversation, also became curious and leaned over to look at the book on the table.

It was indeed a story about a fox, which turned into a demon and had a love-hate relationship with a scholar.

Chuxia initially thought it was just another typical love story between a human and a demon that was common in old TV dramas.

However, as she read on, she saw that the fox demon was betrayed by the scholar and was eventually killed by a Taoist priest just before she could escape to her clan in the mountains.

“Is the story over now?” Chuxia asked.

Cen Huai’an flipped to the next page. “Mom, not yet.”

“Eh? The female protagonist is dead and turned into a pile of bones. How is it not over?”

Chuxia’s curiosity was piqued further, and Zhang Lu was also engrossed in the story.

The story continued with the bones of the fox demon being collected by Jinci and placed in a nearby cave.

Years passed, and the fox demon’s bones somehow became a demon again.

She wanted to repay Jinci’s kindness and learned that his reincarnation would soon pass by the area, so she waited patiently.

But before she could bring Jinci’s reincarnation back to the cave to repay him, her incarnation was killed by a monkey, and she was reduced to a pile of broken bones, receiving only a “Amitabha” from the reincarnated monk.

When the story ended, Chuxia wondered what the author had been thinking while writing this plot, but it explained the white-bone demon in “Journey to the West” quite well.

It even made one sympathize with the fox demon who did not have a happy ending.

However, Cen Huai’an had different thoughts. “Mom, why did she have to bring Jinci back to the cave to repay him? Why not directly say she wanted to repay him? And the white-bone demon in ‘Journey to the West’ wanted to eat Tang Seng. I think this story about repaying kindness is actually just the white-bone demon wanting to eat Tang Seng.”

“No way!” Zhang Lu was the first to refute Cen Huai’an. “Because the white-bone demon likes Tang Seng. She wants to take him back to the cave to marry him. You’re too young to understand love!”

Cen Huai’an looked at her in confusion. “Is love just about disregarding others’ thoughts and marrying them? That’s not repaying kindness, that’s seeking revenge. I don’t want that kind of love!”

Zhang Lu said, “Don’t think so realistically. The fox demon in this novel gave up her life for love. How beautiful is that!”

Cen Huai’an’s frown deepened as he shook his head. “It’s not beautiful. When life is gone, what’s left of love?”

Zhang Lu stared wide-eyed, her cheeks puffed up in frustration, unsure how to counter Cen Huai’an’s argument.

Chuxia watched them and, when they fell silent, said to Zhang Lu, “Lulu, actually, An An is right. Love isn’t like the fox demon’s actions. She abandoned her clan to be with the scholar, despite the warnings from her people. In the end, she was killed by the scholar and the Taoist. Even after she became the white-bone demon with the Buddha’s nature, she didn’t cherish her life. Knowing that Sun Wukong would kill demons, she still threw herself into danger three times. Do you think this is really love?”

Zhang Lu was also new to such concepts.

Adults often discourage early relationships but rarely guide children on proper relationships and views on love.

Zhang Lu fell into deep thought, and Chuxia continued, “If it were me, I wouldn’t pursue a relationship with the scholar. The fox demon was the most talented in her clan. I would, like the character Xian Shisi Niang in ‘Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio,’ focus on cultivating myself and achieving immortality. Even if I ended up as bones like the fox demon, with Buddha’s nature and spiritual talent, Jinci would say I could become a Buddhist practitioner. I wouldn’t waste those talents!”

After hearing Chuxia’s perspective, Zhang Lu felt that her previously muddled views became clear.

“Aunt, it seems like there’s no love in your approach.”