Shen Xing’s father passed away when Shen Xing was three years old and Shen Yue was just one.

Jiang Cheng sat beside Shen Xing, not saying a word, simply keeping him company in silence.

The silhouettes of the two, one tall and one short, were separated by decades, yet their souls shared the same loneliness.

“Sister, I can’t remember.”

Shen Xing lowered his head, tears streaming down his face in a continuous line.

He couldn’t remember his father’s face or his voice.

“I’m not a good son.”

Jiang Cheng’s heart ached, as she had experienced everything Shen Xing was going through.

He wasn’t afraid of being laughed at or criticized; he was just panicking.

Panicking that he would forget the family member who had given him life.

“Shen Xing, I also lost my parents, but I never panic about forgetting them. Do you know why?”

Shen Xing sniffled hard, his nose red, his eyes filled with hope and a plea for help.

“Because I’m still alive.”

Jiang Cheng spoke with firm conviction: “As long as I am alive, they, who are connected to me by blood, are alive too—alive in my heart! And when I become the most remarkable person, they will live on in the pages of other people’s books.”

“Imagine this: whenever someone introduces Shen Xing, they will mention Shen Xing’s parents. At that time, thousands upon thousands of people will remember them.”

Jiang Cheng’s words opened a new door for Shen Xing.

A small seed took root and began to sprout in his heart.

“But you must remember that parental love is the simplest. All they want is for us to grow up safely, stay healthy, and live a smooth life. That way, their souls can rest peacefully in their homeland.”

“Mm.”

Shen Xing nodded, wiping away his tears after venting, feeling a little embarrassed.

He was a little man, after all. How could he shed tears like a kitten?

It was so unbecoming.

Would Sister Jiang Cheng think he was weak?

Jiang Cheng understood Shen Xing’s embarrassment and changed the subject: “If you ask me, your perspective is still too narrow.”

Shen Xing: ??? What do you mean?
Jiang Cheng pointed at Shen Xing’s handwritten homework sheet: “Write an essay of no less than 100 words on the topic ‘My Father.'”

“Shen Xing, after spending so many days with me, haven’t you learned anything?”

Shen Xing tentatively asked: “Does being humble but not too humble count?”

Humble but not too humble? Wasn’t that just being thick-skinned?

Jiang Cheng chuckled. This kid was quite tactful.

But still…

“Why wouldn’t it count? Let me tell you, a tree without bark is doomed to die, but a person without shame is invincible.”

“You’re still young and can’t fully understand this yet, but don’t worry. Keep spending time with me, and sooner or later, you’ll gain a fraction of my prowess.”

“Now, let’s talk about your essay. What I want to say is, how could you forget about our Fatherland?”

Shen Xing was stunned.

He had truly underestimated Sister Jiang Cheng’s… humility.

“Fatherland?”

Jiang Cheng nodded, brimming with confidence. “That’s right! Broaden your horizons, expand your thinking. In such a vast world, don’t get bogged down by trivialities.”

Shen Xing wasn’t stupid, and his eyes suddenly lit up.

When Grandma Shen returned with Shen Yue, she saw Shen Xing excitedly pacing around.

Grandma Shen quietly pulled Jiang Cheng aside.

“Did you drug him?”

“Of course not,” Jiang Cheng denied. “Drugs are expensive.”

Grandma Shen: So if they weren’t expensive, you’d use them?

Jiang Cheng reassured Grandma Shen: “You can trust me to handle things.”

Grandma Shen: That sounds like someone might quietly disappear…

Grandma Shen shook her head and urged:
“Hurry up and leave, or you’ll be late.”

“Alright, I’m going!”

Jiang Cheng slung her green canvas bag over her shoulder and headed to night school. As luck would have it, she ran into He Dan as soon as she stepped out.

He Dan turned her head away and quickened her pace, not wanting to walk with Jiang Cheng.

As for sarcastic remarks… after a few encounters, He Dan hadn’t gained any advantage. She wasn’t a fool.

Without absolute certainty, she wouldn’t easily provoke Jiang Cheng.

But the thought of Jiang Cheng, who hadn’t even graduated from elementary school, competing with Sun Jiandong in academics made He Dan feel that her time to gloat was near.

Exams weren’t just about knowing a few words.

He Dan walked into the classroom in high spirits.

As soon as she entered, she noticed that the usually noisy classmates were as quiet as mice today.

She walked to her seat and nudged her deskmate, Zhou Xiaohong.

“Xiaohong, why is everyone so quiet?”

Zhou Xiaohong didn’t even look up, pausing her muttered recitation to answer: “Russian class is about to start!”

Russian?

He Dan straightened her back a little.

She knew a little Russian.

Just as He Dan was about to ask more, Zhang Cuijuan in the front row shot her a glare.

“Quiet!”

He Dan’s barely raised tail was instantly tucked back in.

But the thought of her soon dominating the class and earning the teacher’s praise made He Dan happily flip open her Russian textbook.

Tap-tap-tap—the sound of unhurried footsteps approached. Jiang Cheng had arrived.

She took her unique seat and pulled out her Russian textbook.

Jiang Cheng’s emotions were still a bit unsettled.

How much of her ability should she show in class today?
Should she be impressive, or extremely impressive?
Being too talented really was a bit of a hassle.

Tap-tap-tap—the sound of hurried footsteps grew closer, and Jiang Cheng instantly decided she would be extremely impressive.

From the sound of those footsteps, this was a no-nonsense personality.

Sure enough, a silver-haired old woman with her hair in a bun walked in, a textbook tucked under her arm, her expression stern as she stepped onto the podium and set down her book.

“Li Jianguo.”

With a start, Comrade Li Jianguo stood up, a tall man over six feet tall now drenched in sweat, his fists clenched.

The old woman on the podium paid no attention and immediately began quizzing him on the vocabulary they were supposed to have memorized from the last class.

The hardest part of Russian was the rolling “r” sound, which was a pronunciation issue.

As Li Jianguo answered, the old woman’s expressionless face grew increasingly inscrutable.

“Next time, try sticking your hand in your mouth. Maybe you’ll speak better.”

After that biting remark, the old woman immediately called the next person from the roster.

“Don’t tell anyone you studied with me. I can’t afford the embarrassment.”

“Go work on a farm. Your tongue is so stiff it could plow two acres.”

“Did you leave your brain at home? You managed to mispronounce four words out of three!”

…

Jiang Cheng, sitting calmly, finally understood why the classroom had been so quiet.

“He Dan?”

He Dan, who had been brimming with confidence, now felt a bit nervous, but she stood up anyway.

The old woman quizzed her, and He Dan, relying on her basic knowledge, answered adequately, performing noticeably better than the previous few students.

“Have you studied before?”

The old woman finally looked up, and He Dan, relieved, nodded with a hint of pride. “A little.”

“Hmm… next time, don’t.”

He Dan’s face turned bright red, and Jiang Cheng struggled to hold back her laughter.

She unilaterally declared this teacher her favorite!

As He Dan sat down, the old woman prepared to end the quiz and start the lesson.

Feeling humiliated, He Dan was torn inside, but when she saw Jiang Cheng stifling a laugh, she raised her hand.

“Report!”

The old woman, who had already opened her textbook, glanced over. He Dan stood up nervously and pointed in Jiang Cheng’s direction. “Teacher, I know I’m not the brightest, but there’s someone in our class who is.”

The old woman’s gaze fell on Jiang Cheng, slightly surprised. This was the first student who dared to meet her eyes without showing any nervousness.

Jiang Cheng, now called upon, raised her hand and stood up after the old woman nodded.

“Reporting to the teacher, Comrade He Dan’s statement is incomplete. I’m not just smart—I’m a prodigy!”