Jiang Qisheng was crying so hard that he could hardly catch his breath, utterly overcome with sorrow.

To be honest, being thrown by Chu Jin didn’t hurt him too much—his tough skin and muscles could handle it. What really stung was the sheer embarrassment of the situation.

How could Chu Jin be so scrawny yet so strong?

He hadn’t practiced Taekwondo in over a year, while he himself trained at the dojo every week. Why was Chu Jin still so formidable?!

Ugh…

It was so unfair…

The onlookers were buzzing with chatter, gasping in surprise and a little girl even sneakily gave Chu Jin a thumbs-up.

“Wow! Brother Chu Jin’s moves were so cool just now!”

“Didn’t Brother Da Sheng say he was better than Brother Chu Jin? Pfft…”

“You actually believe him? Last time he claimed he came first in the class, but the top student was obviously Ding Miao!”

“I heard that Brother Chu Jin used to practice Taekwondo, and I think he must be a red belt, blue belt, or even a black belt! He’s definitely a hundred times better than a yellow belt!”

……

Chu Jin didn’t even glance at the chubby kid crying and kicking his legs; he walked straight toward Song Qiaoxi.

The little girl blinked as the boy approached, his expression still cold and composed, but a hint of… concern shone in his eyes?

This unfamiliar emotion was something she had never seen in Chu Jin before.

“Are you okay?”

Chu Jin’s tone remained indifferent as he knelt down on one knee, leaning forward to examine her knee.

“Huh? I’m fine! It doesn’t hurt at all; I’m totally okay!”

After a moment of surprise, she stared at the top of his head and quickly replied.

Song Qiaoxi scratched her head, wondering if she really wasn’t that delicate.

She noticed Jiang Qisheng had gotten up from the ground, glaring at her and Chu Jin with indignation before stomping off, limping toward the “Cadre Building.”

He couldn’t be thinking of calling for backup, could he?

He lived on the south side of the compound, where the nearby “Cadre Building” housed some of Jiang Qisheng’s close friends.

With all this fighting back and forth, things were never going to settle down…

Why was that little boy so immature?

With this thought in mind, Song Qiaoxi reached out to pull Chu Jin up from the ground.

“It’s really nothing. Let’s just go home, okay? Can you tell me the story of The Count of Monte Cristo? Or we could watch TV—there’s Animation City at 5:30, and it will show Little Mouse on the Prairie. It’s so good! If you don’t want to watch cartoons, we can play Gomoku, Flying Chess, Checkers, or Monopoly instead!”

She rattled off a list of activities that the two friends could do together, her eyes wide with anticipation as she looked at him.

“Okay.”

Chu Jin nodded, agreeing readily and waved his hand, getting up without using her help.

Song Qiaoxi tilted her face up and saw the sunset casting a warm golden hue over the rooftops of the single-story houses near the boiler room.

A late summer breeze rustled through the tall, dense locust trees in the compound, their leaves making a soft “sala sala” sound.

The air was filled with the tantalizing aroma of… stir-fried dishes.

Shortly after, voices from different apartment buildings in the compound began to echo, as various mothers called out.

“Qiuqiu, what time is it? Why aren’t you home for dinner yet?”

“Chen Xiaomin! Time to come home!”

“Song Niannian, hurry back!”

…

“Coming!”

“I know, Mom!”

“I’ll be back soon!”

……

The kids who were called out responded loudly, waving goodbye to their friends. It seemed the little spectators had had their fill of gossip and were ready to head home for dinner.

A group of onlooking children began to disperse in small clusters.

Song Qiaoxi sniffled, swallowed hard, and moved her right knee a little.

It was starting to sting a bit, but it shouldn’t affect her ability to climb high or go up the ladder.

Just as she was about to grab Chu Jin’s wrist to head home together, she saw him walk steadily in front of her, turn his back, and squat down with a gesture inviting her to hop on.

Feeling a bit flustered, she wondered if he intended to carry her.

From this angle, she could see the prominent curve of his spine and the outline of his shoulder blades.

Because he was taller, his shoulders looked broader than those of his peers, but they still seemed rather fragile.

Faced with that skinny back and slim waist, Song Qiaoxi pinched her own belly through her skirt, her lips twitching slightly.

If she jumped on him, she might crush him!

Ugh, it was just a scrape on her leg—how could she possibly be too delicate to walk?

“Let’s go! I’m really heavy and will flatten you,” she said.

Song Qiaoxi limped around to stand in front of Chu Jin, grabbed his slender wrist, and pulled him up from the ground. Without saying another word, she dragged him toward home.

To reassure him, she animatedly explained. “It’s just like pressing rice into crispy rice; with a ‘pop,’ it turns all flat and dry!”

Ah…

The crispy, fragrant rice crust was so delicious, just like those crispy pork slices.

She felt so hungry, but at least she was finally on her way home for dinner.

Did she just describe herself as “crispy rice”?

Chu Jin was genuinely taken aback, feeling both amused and exasperated.

His gaze fell on her soft, slightly damp little hand resting on his wrist.

The delicate hand rested gently, and the sweet, milky scent emanating from the little girl reminded him once again of a fluffy white rabbit.

At that moment, Song Qiaoxi seemed so soft and small, evoking a strong instinct to protect her.

Yet, his mind also flashed back to her just moments ago, with her puffed-up cheeks and wild curly hair standing on end as she snapped at Jiang Qisheng.

She was like a little lion, fearless and fierce.

This left Chu Jin feeling puzzled.

Was this how all girls were?

Sometimes like a little rabbit, and other times like a little lion?

Song Qiaoxi wasn’t walking very fast, carefully dragging her right leg, so Chu Jin matched her pace and walked slowly alongside her.

Beside him, her little mouth kept chattering nonstop. “The sticky dumplings my mom makes are so delicious and sweet! They have the perfect texture and don’t stick to your teeth. If you like, you can dip them in sugar! Do you like sweet and sour ribs? How about braised hairtail? I’ve noticed you don’t seem to eat much meat! And you hardly eat fish—that’s not good! Kids need to eat meat to grow tall…”

Song Qiaoxi spoke like a rapid-fire barrage, not giving him a chance to respond at all.

It was as if she knew he wouldn’t have any answers for her strange questions.

She continued chatting away, and when she got excited, she sneakily wiped her shiny lips with the back of her left hand.

Hearing “you won’t grow tall if you don’t eat meat,” Chu Jin couldn’t help but glance at the little dumpling beside him, who was a head shorter than he was and still babbling away.

He found it amusing that despite her eating so much meat at every meal, she hadn’t seemed to grow taller.

He couldn’t tell if it was the warm glow of the sunset or the sweet sound of Song Qiaoxi’s little voice.

But during the short five- or six-minute walk from the boiler room to the Song family home, Chu Jin experienced a strange feeling for the first time.

He couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

All he knew was that it was a comforting sensation.

He wished, just wished, that this stretch of road could be a little longer, that Song Qiaoxi could walk a bit more slowly…

In the sunset, the two friends, one tall and one short, followed their long shadows as they strolled through the compound.

Despite her limp, the little dumpling’s laughter remained cheerful and carefree.

Her laughter, like the sound of tinkling silver bells, along with her golden hair catching the sunlight and dancing in the breeze, left a lasting impression on Chu Jin’s heart.

It felt as if she were a little sun?

>>>