It felt as if the precious treasure she’d been so careful with, the thing she cherished most in her palm, was being casually trampled on by others, reduced to nothing, not worth even a penny.

At that moment, she truly had the impulse to follow the original owner’s actions, run up with Wang Junyang and Ding Yi, yank Jiang Qisheng’s ear, drag him off the podium, and give him a good lesson right there.

Using violence to resolve violence will never solve the problem in the long run; it only escalates tensions further.

Song Qiaoxi had learned this early on during her time at the orphanage.

The things these children were saying were getting increasingly hurtful.

At the age of six or seven, they didn’t even understand the meaning of many of the hurtful words they threw around, simply repeating what they had heard from adults without fully grasping it.

Song Qiaoxi dropped her backpack off her shoulder and casually placed it on the desk beside her.

Under the curious gaze of Jiang Qisheng, whose narrowed eyes were filled with confusion, she confidently stepped up onto the podium with quick strides, taking two steps at a time.

With her head tilted to the side, she stood tall despite the chubby kid beside her, much bigger and taller than she was, and met his tiny, green-bean-like eyes without fear.

She didn’t want to fight but surely she could settle this calmly with reason.

She couldn’t let the rest of the class misunderstand Chu Jin—what Jiang Qisheng said wasn’t true.

Chu Jin had chosen to live in the boiler room himself and it had nothing to do with any leader’s mercy or pity. She remembered clearly what had been said during the community meeting that day.

In her old memories, she was a fifth grader, a class leader who had always been aware of how harmful school gossip could be to her classmates.

Having mentally prepared her response, Song Qiaoxi picked up the chalkboard eraser on the podium and threw it down with a sharp “thwack” sound.

The classroom fell silent, and about sixty or seventy pairs of eyes were fixed on her.

Including Chu Jin, whose attractive brows furrowed slightly, his eyes questioning as they landed on her. His pale face made his thin lips appear faintly pink.

Song Qiaoxi, in her excitement, felt her throat tighten, and the tears in her eyes threatened to spill.

Standing at the podium, she cleared her throat, and the classroom was filled with the soft yet serious voice of the young girl: “Chu Jin is not an orphan. All the kids in the compound know his situation. Jiang Qisheng, what are you even saying? Didn’t your dad teach you not to talk about others behind their back? You have no manners at all.

Yes, your dad is the vice president of the newspaper, but does your family own the boiler room?

The boiler room belongs to the collective, it’s part of the entire newspaper compound. Your dad is the vice president, but does that mean the whole newspaper belongs to your family?

And you say it’s because your dad felt sorry for him and let him live there. But when Grandma Gao from the neighborhood committee, my dad, and Mr. Wang and Mr. Ding had a meeting that day, your dad wasn’t even there—he wasn’t around! So where does this ‘pity’ come from?

Chu Jin can live wherever he wants, it’s none of your business!”

A barrage of questions fired like a rapid succession of shots, hitting Jiang Qisheng so hard that his face turned bright red. His little pupils shimmered, as if he’d just experienced an earthquake.

He paused for a few seconds, avoiding Song Qiaoxi’s piercing gaze. Then he grabbed the chalkboard eraser and slammed it onto the podium, but it fell the wrong way, sending a cloud of chalk dust into the air.

“Ah, ahem,” the little chubby boy waved his hand to fan away the dust and took a few steps back, then reluctantly opened his mouth again. “Don’t listen to what Song Qiaoxi says. It’s not like that! She and Chu Jin always bully others. That day, I was bullied by Chu Jin. They aren’t good kids!”

Jiang Qisheng shouldn’t have mentioned this, but when he did, Song Qiaoxi grew even more furious, a hot wave flooding her chest.

There were several children from the compound who had been present that day, and now some of them started whispering to each other, exchanging information. The little ones now looked at Jiang Qisheng with clear doubt.

The children who were there knew very well that it was Jiang Qisheng who had provoked Song Qiaoxi and Chu Jin first. He was the one who pushed Song Qiaoxi to the ground and made her scrape her knee.

It was he who kept boasting about getting the yellow belt in taekwondo, claiming to be better than Chu Jin. But, in the end, he was tossed onto the ground by Chu Jin with a shoulder throw and cried like a baby, making excuses.

“Jiang Qisheng, it was you who said you had earned the yellow belt in taekwondo and insisted I say you were better than Chu Jin. When I refused, you pushed me down. What happened next? Don’t you remember?

You claim we bullied you, but you need proof! A lot of kids were there and saw the entire thing. Should I have Chu Jin reenact it for you?”

Song Qiaoxi’s voice was sweet and soft, but it held a firm resolve. She spoke slowly, making each word clear and deliberate.

Once she finished, she glanced around the room and noticed that Chu Jin was still standing at the door, motionless, his gaze locked on her. There was a flicker of complex emotions in his eyes.

A few of the children who had been uncomfortable with Jiang Qisheng’s arrogance and had been there that day near the boiler room nodded in agreement, casting approving looks at Song Qiaoxi.

“Qiaoxi’s right, that day it was Jiang Qisheng who wanted to challenge Chu Jin.”

“Yeah, and he lost, so why cry about it? So embarrassing…”

“He’s so tall and strong, yet couldn’t even beat the skinny Chu Jin, and now he’s accusing them of bullying? What a shame!”

…

“Finally, Jiang Qisheng, who gave you the right to say the kids who aren’t from the press compound can’t sit down and have to stand at the back? Is this school your family’s? Or is this classroom your personal property?”

Song Qiaoxi pointed at the back of the classroom, where a few new, uncomfortable-looking children stood, clutching their bags. She was absolutely furious.

They’re all classmates in the same grade—spending the next six years of primary school together—so why couldn’t they just be united and kind to one another?

Clearly, they could all become good friends. Why insist on separating the children of the press compound from those who were here through school selection? This was blatant discrimination!

“I-I didn’t, you—why are you saying this…” Jiang Qisheng was flustered, stumbling over his words, his emotions unraveling all at once.

The Song Qiaoxi from before would never have been so articulate.

The old Qiaoxi would’ve charged straight into a fight the moment he provoked her, dragging her two little companions along, ready to argue at the slightest remark.

When did she get so good at debating? How did she become more persuasive than him?

What should he do now? This was the first day of school!

His father had taught him that he needed to establish himself as a “little leader” in front of all his classmates on the first day, and then prepare for the class president election.

Jiang Qisheng had spent the whole night coming up with the idea of categorizing his classmates.

He thought, since the children from the newspaper office compound were in the majority, as long as he gained their respect, the small group of cross-district students wouldn’t matter.

His dad had told him that those students were from “society,” while the children who were part of the newspaper compound were “royal rations” and were different.

Sweat broke out on Jiang Qisheng’s forehead as his fingers tightened around the podium. He looked down at the confused eyes staring up at him but couldn’t find the right words to explain himself.

A loud “bang” sounded from the classroom door, breaking the students’ attention.

Song Qiaoxi, also resting her hands on the podium, leaned forward and peeked toward the door.

=^_^=