Chapter 7: Eight Years Old — Summer Homework

Not long after, He Zhengyue and Zhong Zihan arrived. The three of them sat on the sofa and began dividing up the tasks.

“Ningning, you do the math,” He Zhengyue said. “Don’t get all the answers right, or the teacher will be suspicious. For those long-worded application problems, just leave them blank to save time. Zihan, you do the Chinese homework. Your chicken-scratch handwriting is pretty much the same as Xiao Zhu’s anyway, so no need to make it look bad on purpose.”

Zhong Zihan: “……”

Xiao Zhu: “……”

That was an insult.

As for the diary entries, the distribution was as follows: “I’ll help you write twenty days’ worth. The rest, you have to do yourself.”

Xiao Zhu tried counting on her fingers but quickly gave up. Even with her sister writing twenty days’ worth, the remaining entries were still enough to make her fingers fall off.

She said in despair, “I can’t make up that many days’ worth of activities.”

He Zhengyue glared at her. “Who said you have to make them up? Just write down what you actually did these past few dozen days.”

Xiao Zhu pouted, on the verge of tears again. “But I already forgot…”

“……” He Zhengyue rubbed her forehead. “Fine, I’ll make them up for you. I’ll say it, you write it.”

As a high schooler, He Zhengyue racked her brains trying to write a diary in the simple yet childlike tone of an elementary schooler. It felt even harder than writing an 800-word argumentative essay.

By the time she got to the end of July, she was completely out of ideas.

“July 31st, sunny. Today I went to the fields with Grandpa to pick watermelons. The watermelons were big and sweet, bright red and very pretty. Grandpa said that farmers work really hard to grow watermelons, just like they do with rice, so we shouldn’t waste them…”

But the little brat Xiao Zhu had the nerve to correct her: “Sis, my grandpa doesn’t grow watermelons. He only grows vegetables.”

He Zhengyue roared, “I said your grandpa grows watermelons, so he grows watermelons! I still have two physics test papers to finish, and I’m here helping you write your diary—this is already more than generous. And now you’re being picky? Go, go downstairs and buy me an old-fashioned popsicle. Otherwise, I’ll tell your mom!”

Xiao Zhu didn’t dare argue anymore. She rushed out to buy the popsicle without even asking for money and paid for it herself with a yuan.

Back in the room, He Zhengyue was fuming, pressing her temples in frustration. “If I had known she was going to call in this many helpers for her homework, I wouldn’t have agreed to help her! Yesterday, when she begged me, she said that if I didn’t help her, her mom would beat her to death today. If I’d known she had this many conditions, I should’ve just let her mom beat her.”

Zhong Zihan looked up from the Chinese homework, surprised. “Xiao Zhu said the same thing to me yesterday when she asked for help.”

He Zhengyue: “Huh?”

Meng Yuning, completely unfazed, asked, “Did she also say that if you helped her, she’d be willing to serve you like an ox or a horse, walk through fire, and pledge her undying loyalty?”

“……”

“……”

The answer was obvious.

No matter how the process went, on August 31st, thanks to the efforts of her three older siblings, Xuezhu’s summer homework was finally completed.

The next day, her mom took her to school for registration. Xuezhu proudly puffed out her little chest as she handed her homework to the teacher.

The teacher flipped through it carelessly, praised her for being obedient, and then completed her registration.

As they were leaving, Xuezhu happened to see that the class next door had already collected all their summer homework. Their homeroom teacher had bundled the assignments together with plastic string.

Xuezhu was puzzled—if they were all tied up like that, how was the teacher supposed to grade them?

On the bus ride home, two older boys were standing nearby, chatting.

One of them said, “If I’d known the teacher wasn’t even going to look at it, I would’ve just scribbled random answers.”

The other one smugly replied, “Isn’t summer homework just bundled up and sold to the recycling station every year? I tore out more than ten pages, and the teacher didn’t even notice.”

Xuezhu: “……？”

She suddenly felt like her efforts in life were completely meaningless.

—

This semester, Xuezhu entered third grade, and the changes weren’t just about adding an English class.

The teacher told them that as third graders, they were no longer little kids in the lower grades, so they had to start using water-based pens or ballpoint pens for writing.

No more pencils. No more erasers.

Xuezhu wasn’t used to it. Even though her dad had bought her correction fluid, correction tape, and correction stickers—letting her choose whichever she wanted—she still felt none of them were as good as an eraser.

All three of them left white marks on her notebook, making it look messy.

“So you have to think carefully before you write. Be careful, or your notebook will end up looking terrible,” Song Yanping said.

Xuezhu protested, feeling wronged. “Why can’t I just keep using a pencil?”

If she made a mistake with a pencil, she could just erase it. It was convenient and easy to use. Why did humans even invent water-based pens?

“Because you’ve grown up, and you need to understand something,” Song Yanping explained. “Making mistakes is like writing the wrong word in your notebook. You have to think things through before acting—you can’t be reckless or careless, because once a mistake is made, it’s hard to fix.”

Even something as simple as using a water-based pen became an excuse for her mom to teach her a life lesson.

Xuezhu was speechless.

Seeing her daughter’s dissatisfied expression, Song Yanping had no choice but to bring up Meng Yuning. “Look at your brother Ningning. Is he still fussing about using a pencil?”

No.

Xuezhu had seen Meng Yuning’s Chinese practice book.

His handwriting was beautiful, completely different from her messy scrawl. In Xuezhu’s eyes, Brother Ningning’s writing was even better than the ones in calligraphy practice books.

Not only that, but he rarely made mistakes. She hardly ever saw correction marks on his homework.

Xuezhu was deeply impressed.

Song Yanping patiently guided her, “So your Brother Ningning can write neatly even with a water-based pen. Why can’t you?”

Xuezhu confidently replied, “Because he’s smarter than me! I can’t even get first place in class.”

Song Yanping clicked her tongue and started nagging again. “And whose fault is that? You’re always thinking about playing instead of studying. The same goes for piano practice. Aunt Liu’s son has already passed Level 6, but you started learning at the same time as him and haven’t even taken the Level 5 exam yet. I only ask you to practice for one hour a day, and you already complain. With this attitude, how will you ever make money when you grow up?”

Xuezhu was beyond frustrated.

Just hearing the words “piano practice” from her mom made her scalp tingle.

“Auntie.”

Meng Yuning’s voice came from the doorway.

Both mother and daughter looked over at the same time.

Meng Yuning stood there with his schoolbag on his back, looking like he had just gotten home from school.

Old Meng had plans with friends that night, so he had told his son to go to Uncle Pei’s house for dinner after school.

Perfect timing. Song Yanping waved him over. “Ningning, you’re just in time. Xiao Zhu doesn’t want to use a water-based pen. Talk to her for me.”

Meng Yuning changed into slippers, but before he could say anything, Xuezhu grabbed him and dragged him into her room.

She locked the door.

From outside, her mom called out, “Pei Xuezhu, either do your homework or practice piano! Don’t bother your brother while he’s studying. Do you hear me?”

Xuezhu covered her ears in frustration and stuck out her tongue at the door.

Meng Yuning put down his schoolbag, ready to start on his homework.

He was in his third year of middle school now, with a heavy workload. Staying up until ten every night to finish his assignments was routine.

“Brother, look! This is the new desk my dad bought me,” Xuezhu said.

There was a hint of showing off, but mostly, she just wanted to share her new treasure with him.

The desk was white with pink edges, equipped with a bookshelf, a lamp, and even a posture corrector. The tabletop’s angle could be adjusted. It was the kind of desk every elementary schooler dreamed of having. Xuezhu had begged her dad for ages before he finally went to a furniture wholesale market, haggled with the shop owner, and bought it for her.

And to be fair, it was really useful. Even when she wasn’t doing homework, Xuezhu liked sitting at the desk to tinker with random things.

“Do you think it looks nice?”

“It looks nice.”

“Then you can use my desk to do your homework.”

Meng Yuning obediently sat down, feeling a little awkward.

It was so low.

He had to hunch over to write.

Xuezhu noticed it too and scratched her head in confusion. “Brother Ningning, did you get taller again?”

Meng Yuning answered uncertainly, “Probably.”

Xuezhu immediately looked envious. “Why haven’t I grown taller yet?”

She dashed to the door, opened it, and measured herself against the height markings from a few months ago. She turned her head to check—just as she expected—”Still haven’t grown taller.”

The doorframe was covered in horizontal lines.

Each line marked Xuezhu’s height. Every time a new one was added, it meant she had grown taller.

“Why? We eat the same food every day.”

She swung the door open and shouted toward the living room, where Pei Lianyi was watching TV. “Dad! Why did Brother Ningning grow taller, but I didn’t?”

Pei Lianyi shuffled over in his slippers. “Because he’s a boy. Boys naturally grow taller than girls.”

Xuezhu asked, “Why are boys naturally taller than girls?”

“Go ask the Bodhisattva. That’s just how it is,” Pei Lianyi answered dismissively. Then he turned to Meng Yuning. “Ningning, did you grow taller again?”

Meng Yuning glanced at his pants, which had been riding up lately. “Seems like it.”

“Come stand here. Let me measure you—I’ll go get a ruler.”

Meng Yuning obediently stood by the doorframe.

“You’re already 1.73 meters,” Pei Lianyi said in surprise. “Almost as tall as me.”

At only fourteen, he was bound to keep growing.

Pei Lianyi marked Meng Yuning’s height on the doorframe. “From now on, come over every month, and I’ll keep track of it for you.”

Meng Yuning nodded.

Xuezhu stared at his marking enviously, measuring the difference with her eyes. It was so much higher than hers.

“When I’m fourteen, will I be this tall too?” she asked.

Pei Lianyi, not as naive as his silly daughter, said, “If you reach 1.6 meters, that’s good enough. Girls don’t need to be too tall.”

Then, he wrote something next to the mark.

“Ningning, 2004.9.7.”

Then, bending down, he wrote another line next to a different mark.

“Xiao Zhu, 2004.9.7.”

“Alright, you two keep working on your homework,” Pei Lianyi said.

After saying that, he took the ruler and left.

“Homework, then?” Meng Yuning asked.

Xuezhu hadn’t forgotten that she was supposed to use a water-based pen today. She took a few steps back and said, “I’ll practice piano first today.”

She had never volunteered to practice piano so eagerly before.

Meng Yuning nodded. “Go ahead, then.”

Xuezhu walked over to the upright piano, lifted the dust cover, opened the lid, and sat down.

Trying to show off, she asked him, “What do you want to hear? I’ll play it for you.”

Meng Yuning said, “Canon?”

Xuezhu’s expression instantly turned awkward.

She didn’t know how to play it.

Meng Yuning noticed and chuckled. “Then just play your best piece.”

Xuezhu thought for a moment, got up, went to the bookshelf, and quickly flipped to the sheet music of the piece she was best at.

She sounded quite proud. “This is the one I played in a competition last year—I won first place!”

All that hard practice had paid off. She barely needed to look at the sheet music, her muscle memory guided her fingers effortlessly across the keys.

Meng Yuning watched as she sat upright at the piano, her ponytail swaying with each movement of her head as she played with full immersion.

“Does it sound good?”

When she finished, she hopped off the bench and asked him.

Meng Yuning said, “It sounds great.”

Xuezhu added, “Once I learn to play Canon, I’ll play it for you.”

Meng Yuning smiled. “Alright, then you’d better learn it quickly.”

“Of course! Once I pass Level 10,” Xuezhu boasted, tilting her nose up, “I’ll be your teacher and teach you to play Canon!”

In order to impress her brother, she was determined to learn Canon no matter what.

Meng Yuning tilted his head, not taking it too seriously, but still said, “Then I’ll thank Teacher Pei in advance.”

Xuezhu scratched her face, feeling a little shy when he jokingly called her “teacher” in a teasing whisper.

But Meng Yuning quickly returned to the main point. “Before you pass Level 10, can you at least finish your homework first?”

Xuezhu’s smile froze.

Meng Yuning made her sit at her study desk and supervised her as she did her homework with a water-based pen.

She was copying a classical Chinese poem, but before she even finished one line, she made a mistake.

Unwillingly, she used correction fluid to cover it up, but then she kept making more mistakes.

The smell of the correction fluid was awful, making her head ache.

Xuezhu muttered under her breath, “I told you I should’ve used a pencil.”

But Meng Yuning said, “If you think carefully before you write, you won’t make mistakes so easily.”

Xuezhu threw down her pen and refused to continue.

“Xiao Zhu, focus and finish your work.” Meng Yuning’s tone became slightly firmer.

“I want to use a pencil!” Xuezhu whined.

“You’re already in third grade—you can’t keep using a pencil forever.”

“Then I’ll just go back to second grade!”

Meng Yuning had no choice. He picked up the pen she had thrown, pried open her fingers, and placed it back in her hand. When she refused to grip it, he wrapped his own hand around hers.

Compared to Xuezhu’s small, soft, chubby hand, the boy’s hand—just like his height—was lean and slender. The faint blue veins on the back of his hand were slightly visible, and his neatly trimmed nails had a light pink hue.

“I’ll guide you,” he said.

Each time she was about to make a mistake, a gentle force would stop her from writing. Meng Yuning bent over, one hand bracing against the desk, and murmured by her ear, “Think carefully again—do you write the vertical stroke first or the horizontal one?”

He smelled really nice.

Xuezhu made a mental note to ask Uncle Meng what laundry detergent their family used when he got home, so she could ask her mom to buy the same one for her clothes.

By the time she finished copying the poem, the handwriting on the page carried traces of both her own childish strokes and his refined elegance.

It was a piece they had written together.

Looking at the words, Xuezhu thought that it would be great if she could write this neatly on her own, without her brother guiding her hand.

Later, when Meng Yuning had to do his own homework, Xuezhu didn’t disturb him and obediently leaned on the desk, watching him work.

He was doing his math homework. Xuezhu casually picked up his Chinese homework and once again saw his beautiful handwriting.

As expected, a naturally restless and curious child couldn’t stay quiet for long.

“Brother Ningning, how do you read this character?” Xuezhu pointed at a word in his notebook.

Meng Yuning glanced at it and said, “Yū (淤).“

“What about this one?”

“Zhuó (濯).“

“And this—”

“‘I alone love the lotus for emerging unstained from the mud and remaining untainted, cleansed by clear waters without being seductive.’” Meng Yuning simply recited the entire sentence.

The classical wording confused Xuezhu. “What does that mean?”

“It means, ‘I especially admire the lotus flower. It grows from the mud yet remains untainted, cleansed by pure waters yet not overly showy. Its stem stands straight without branching out, emitting a delicate fragrance. It stands tall, meant to be admired from afar but not to be played with up close.’“

Since it was a required passage to memorize, Meng Yuning habitually translated the whole thing as well.

“Oh.”

Judging by her uninterested reaction, it was obvious she didn’t understand.

In order to spark her curiosity, Meng Yuning tried to link the topic to her. “Your name is actually similar to the lotus flower.”

Talking about her name finally piqued Xuezhu’s interest. “Why?”

Meng Yuning thought of how she had just been sitting quietly at the piano, playing with focus.

That pure and clear melody had come from her small hands.

“Because you have a refined, pure, and clean temperament.”

Xuezhu countered, “Isn’t that more like you?”

Meng Yuning was briefly stunned. “What?”

“I think you’re much cleaner than me.” Xuezhu tilted her head and innocently asked, “What games do you play at school? Why is your uniform always so spotless?”

Suddenly, she flung herself toward him, colliding into his chest. Thinking she had lost her balance, Meng Yuning quickly reached out to steady her.

But instead, she buried her entire head into his chest, and he clearly heard the sound of her sniffing.

If someone else saw this, they might think she was a fox spirit absorbing a scholar’s essence.

“If you’re careful, you won’t get your uniform dirty.”

Meng Yuning didn’t understand what was so nice about the smell of clothes.

But Xuezhu wasn’t convinced. “But, brother, you’re even cleaner than the girls in my class. The boys in my class roll around on the ground like it’s nothing. So dirty, tsk tsk.”

She then started rambling about which boy in her class was the messiest and had the worst hygiene.

Meng Yuning watched her chatter away, thinking, How can this little kid talk so much? Doesn’t her mouth ever get dry?

After talking for a long time without a response, Xuezhu poked his side with her finger. “Hey, are you even listening to me?”

Unexpectedly, Meng Yuning’s shoulder flinched, and he frowned. “Don’t poke randomly.”

Xuezhu’s eyes spun in thought, and she quickly came to a conclusion.

Meng Yuning was ticklish.

Having made a new discovery, she immediately launched into mischief.

Her pokes weren’t very strong at first, so Meng Yuning ignored her and kept his head down, focusing on his homework.

But gradually, he realized that this little girl was distracting him too much.

At this rate, he wouldn’t finish his homework even if he worked until midnight.

Suddenly, he grabbed her hand and, lowering his voice slightly in warning, said, “Stop messing around.”

Xuezhu was momentarily stunned.

She suddenly felt like something about her brother was different.

He was going through a voice change. His voice was no longer as bright and clear as it had been a few years ago. It had deepened, becoming slightly husky, losing its childish tone. The small bump on his pale neck stood out slightly, and when he spoke, there was a maturity that only grown-ups had.

Kids only learn their lesson when they get a taste of their own medicine. Meng Yuning deliberately targeted Xuezhu’s weakness—her ticklish spots.

Xuezhu was also ticklish. She squirmed around, laughing uncontrollably.

In the end, she couldn’t take it anymore. Her legs gave out, and she wobbled before collapsing onto Meng Yuning.

He held her up from behind as she laughed loudly, and soon, he started laughing along with her.

The mischievous teenager gave her another quick tickle and asked softly, “Still messing around? Hmm?”

Xuezhu turned around, grabbing his hand in surrender, shaking her head furiously. “No more, no more!”

Only then did Meng Yuning let her go.

Still out of breath, she plopped down on his lap to catch her breath.

Just then, Xuezhu’s mom came in with two glasses of milk. She opened the door to see her daughter sitting on Meng Yuning’s lap, her little face flushed red.

“How did doing homework turn into climbing all over your brother?” she scolded softly.

Xuezhu got up and immediately tattled. “It was Brother Ningning! He tickled me first!”

“That must mean you started it,” her mom said without hesitation, showing her clear favoritism toward Meng Yuning. She placed two glasses of milk on the table. “One for each of you. Drink up and grow taller.”