Tang Wanning, a veteran actress, had weathered countless storms in the entertainment industry – dealing with incompetent clients, demanding producers, and the occasional insane director or crew member, not to mention the relentless barrage of online hate messages. Through it all, she felt she’d achieved a level of emotional resilience comparable to the legendary monk Tang Sanzang on his arduous journey to the West. She’d transformed from a fiery newcomer who constantly felt like she was on the verge of quitting to a remarkably composed professional.

But then she encountered a class of second graders. After attempting to teach them, Tang Wanning’s carefully constructed world crumbled. The desire to simply disappear overwhelmed her. It was, she thought, precisely analogous to Tang Sanzang finally obtaining the sacred scriptures only to lose them in a watery mishap.

Patience? Composure? The veneer of celebrity life? All vanished! Tang Wanning was about to unleash a torrent of pent-up frustration.

“Run! Keep running!” she declared from the small classroom podium, watching in disbelief as several children engaged in a chaotic game of “eagle catches the chicks” directly around her. Ironically, her textbook was open to a story about a chick searching for its mother.

The sheer lack of empathy and basic decency appalled her. Her anger simmered, and she glanced at Xia Zhiyan.

Xia Zhiyan, the assistant teacher, was faring no better. Seated impassively on a small wooden stool, she resembled a serene, unspeaking statue, allowing the children to freely manipulate her long hair. One child, seemingly entranced, or perhaps engaging in imaginative role-playing, blurted out: “Teacher, can I braid your hair?”

Xia Zhiyan managed a weary, “Sweetheart, we’re in class.”

The child, eyes wide with confusion, glanced around the room before announcing in a clear, childish voice: “But Teacher, nobody’s listening.”

Those innocent words struck both actresses like daggers. Despair etched itself onto their faces.

[You two are killing me with laughter! What do I owe you?!]

[Tang Wanning’s vision of Xia Zhiyan: Childcare expert. Reality: Free-range parenting expert.]

[A student teacher watching this is simultaneously laughing and dreading their future. doge]

Just as the two actresses grappled with how to salvage the remainder of the class, a knock sounded on the classroom’s weathered wooden door. The door was ajar, and the newcomer’s presence was immediately apparent.

“Nan Nan!!!” Tang Wanning practically yelled, her voice laced with a mixture of relief and desperation. Without the cameras, she likely would have embraced Jiang Nanxi with tears streaming down her face.

“Are you guys finished?”

Jiang Nanxi shook her head, a slight smile playing on her lips. “Not yet, Wanning Jie. Class times are consistent; when would it end early?”

Tang Wanning, her mind seemingly miles away, offered Jiang Nanxi a look of complete understanding.

“Did your students all finish running?” Tang Wanning patted Jiang Nanxi’s shoulder, a shared sense of hardship evident in her tone. “Hard work, hard work.”

Jiang Nanxi, subtly avoiding Tang Wanning’s touch, replied with a calm smile: “They just finished. After a 200-meter run, they’re pretty much done, now they’re just relaxing.”

Tang Wanning, utterly bewildered, asked: “What do you mean? The PE class is over?”

“Ruan Qiuci is playing games with them now,” Jiang Nanxi explained. “The production team said things weren’t going well here, so I came to check.”

Xia Zhiyan, mortified at being seen in such a disheveled state by her younger colleague, attempted to stand and greet her, only to discover her hair was inadvertently tied to the chair. The child, completely oblivious, was startled by the situation and frantically tried to untie it, only making the knot tighter.

Jiang Nanxi, bypassing Tang Wanning, knelt beside Xia Zhiyan, her voice softening as she addressed the child: “Sweetheart, can Sister help?”

Tang Wanning noted the subtle shift in Jiang Nanxi’s demeanor. Her voice, usually like a gentle stream, became even softer, sweeter, almost delicate when speaking to the child. The child responded immediately.

“I’m sorry,” the girl sobbed, a snot bubble popping.

Jiang Nanxi gently wiped the child’s face with a tissue, then discreetly crumpled the used tissue back into her pocket. “It’s okay, watch Sister perform some magic, and it’ll be untied in a jiffy.”

She glanced at Xia Zhiyan, her tone laced with concern: “Sis, if it hurts, say so.”

Xia Zhiyan, her expression a mix of amusement and slight discomfort, replied: “I’m not that delicate.”

Jiang Nanxi, understanding but still worried about causing pain, carefully secured the top of Xia Zhiyan’s tangled hair to prevent pulling on her scalp, then expertly untangled the curls.

Xia Zhiyan was accustomed to having her hair handled by professionals, but this intimate contact with Jiang Nanxi, the feeling of another’s skin, even through the hair, sent a shiver down her spine. It was intensely personal, almost more so than direct touch. It was like the anticipation before a heavy rain, the clouds gathering, the storm imminent, but the exact timing unknown. This was the most difficult to endure.

Xia Zhiyan remained silent, the time stretching out. She watched the sun’s shadow shifting slowly across the floor.

Finally, the “rain” stopped.

“All done,” Jiang Nanxi said, gently arranging Xia Zhiyan’s hair. Her hand brushed against Xia Zhiyan’s neck. Xia Zhiyan, exercising tremendous self-control, resisted the urge to lean into the touch. This was not the time for a relapse.

Xia Zhiyan stood, offering a grateful, “Thanks, Nan Nan.”

“No problem,” Jiang Nanxi replied, surveying the chaotic classroom. “Do you need any help with the class?”

Before Xia Zhiyan could answer, Tang Wanning practically begged, “Yes! We desperately need help!”

Thinking back to Jiang Nanxi’s arrival, Tang Wanning thought: This is what you call…

The Day My Savior Knocked on My Classroom Door!