Song Qiaoxi had a restless night, tossing and turning, and because she was so fidgety, her mom gave her a couple of gentle swats on the bottom.

She had been quietly worried the whole time, especially since today was August 24th, Saturday.

Today, several adults were scheduled to meet with Aunt Gao from the neighborhood committee and Uncle Li, a leader from the local newspaper, to discuss the issue of Chu Jin’s future.

At the same time, this Saturday, Wang Junyang returned from his grandparents’ house, and Ding Yi had finally memorized the multiplication table, earning him permission to go out and play.

With only a few carefree days left before school starts, Wang Junyang and Ding Yi arrived at Song Qiaoxi’s house promptly at 2:30 PM, right on time for their usual gathering with the “Little Musketeers.”

Song Qiaoxi’s mom who had just finished her nap, pushed her daughter and Chu Jin out the door. “You two, take the little mister out for a walk. Auntie will make shrimp chips for dinner. Junyang and Yi, be sure to come by before heading home to pick them up.”

Starting today, they officially became the “Little Four.”

The kids had all grown up in the same neighborhood, so they all knew Chu Jin who was just as familiar as a little prince.

Although, in Wang Junyang’s eyes, he seemed more like the prince from The Prince’s Journey.

But as for calling Chu Jin a “partner”—that was another story.

Of course, Chu Jin was not considered a “partner” by either Wang Junyang or Ding Yi. For now, they were only letting him join in because of Song Qiaoxi.

Song Qiaoxi was the “Left Green Dragon” to Wang Junyang’s “Right White Tiger,” and Chu Jin, still holding that book, kept his distance from them, walking at a pace neither too close nor too far behind.

No matter how much the little dumpling waved or called out to him, Chu Jin wouldn’t walk alongside them.

It occurred to her that maybe Chu Jin was just a bit introverted?

That’s fine. With time, if he gets a little closer to Wang Junyang and Ding Yi, they would all become good friends.

Wang Junyang suggested they head to their secret base, the abandoned boiler room in the courtyard, to play hide-and-seek. It was surrounded by single-story houses, close to the family dorms, and shaded by several large locust trees—perfect for a cool afternoon game.

He pulled a piece of candy out of his pocket, waving it in front of Song Qiaoxi and the others, winking mysteriously. “Wait here.”

Wang Junyang dashed off to the corner shop, returning shortly, holding a few sticks of Wangzai crushed ice in his arms.

Song Qiaoxi gasped in surprise.

Well, well, look at that!

As expected of a “big spender,” Wang Junyang always had several bills of pocket money tucked into his wallet.

In the summer, he treated his friends to ice, and in the winter, it was roasted sweet potatoes, candied hawthorns, and rice crisps. He was incredibly generous.

When Song Qiaoxi saw that Wang Junyang was holding four sticks of Wangzai crushed ice, she smiled sweetly and happily said, “Thank you.”

She had expected the others to be a little resistant toward Chu Jin, but to her surprise, they accepted him so quickly.

The four of them kept their unusual formation—three in front, one trailing behind—as they happily made their way to the boiler room.

All four ice sticks were shoved right in front of Song Qiaoxi.

Wang Junyang, with his healthy wheat-colored skin and thin single eyelids, smiled with his eyes half-closed. His voice, still youthful and clear from his prepubescent years, asked. “Xixi, which flavor do you want?”

“Same as usual—leave the peach and grape for you two, I’ll take whichever of the other two flavors is left!”

The little dumpling’s crisp, high-pitched voice blended with the chirping of cicadas, bringing a cool breeze to the hot August afternoon.

She knew that both Wang Junyang and Ding Yi loved peach and grape, so she saved those two flavors for them, letting them split the sticks so they could enjoy both tastes.

Taking the strawberry and yogurt-flavored crushed ice, Song Qiaoxi walked up to Chu Jin and looked up at him, asking. “Which one do you like, strawberry or yogurt, or do you like both?”

The boy didn’t respond.

Suddenly, an idea sparked in her mind. She remembered the slogan from the Wangzai crushed ice commercial and tilted her head playfully. “Then how about we split them? Half for you, half for me. You’re my good partner!”

Chu Jin closed his book, his lips pressed into a straight line as he lowered his gaze to her.

The little dumpling tilted her head back, sweat beading on her forehead. Her bright apricot eyes sparkled, and her curly twin ponytails swished restlessly across her shoulders.

Did she just call herself his “good partner”?

Wang Junyang and Ding Yi were her “good partners,” not him.

They had complete families with loving parents, and the three of them had grown up together, forming their little “Three Musketeers” group.

Even when she still lived in the courtyard, she often saw the three of them sticking together, never apart no matter where they went.

Chu Jin was no longer the “chosen one” that others once called him.

After his parents passed away, the countless days of being abandoned over the past year made it painfully clear to him that he and Song Qiaoxi’s world were no longer the same.

And the soft, sweet little dumpling in front of him—she was kind and considerate to everyone around her.

Without Wang Junyang and Ding Yi this week, he thought… he thought maybe she only…

He was nothing special to her.

As this thought crossed Chu Jin’s mind, an unfamiliar surge of emotion erupted from deep inside him, uncontrollably.

He couldn’t tell if it was anger, frustration, or restlessness.

Clutching the book tightly to his chest, he bit his lower lip, straightened his back, and bypassed the sweet-smelling little dumpling. Coldly, he muttered two words. “Not hungry.”

Without looking back, he walked toward the abandoned boiler room, pushed open the creaky iron door, and entered, slamming it shut behind him.

Bang. The sound of the door slamming echoed loudly.

Song Qiaoxi stood frozen, her heart heavy. She had just seen a clear “displeasure” in his eyes, and a wave of worry washed over her.

Staring at the two sticks of crushed ice in her hand which had already started to melt.

“He’s crazy! If he doesn’t want to eat, then fine, but why get mad? Does he really think he’s some prince, like the one from The Prince’s Journey… ugh…”

Wang Junyang dashed over to Song Qiaoxi’s side, holding half a stick of grape ice cream, purposely speaking loudly.

Before he could finish the second half of his sentence, Song Qiaoxi shoved the ice in his mouth to silence him.

Ding Yi with his damp fingers adjusting his glasses, slowly walked over and quietly added. “Exactly, Xixi. You should eat both of these, so you don’t have to share. A rude guy like him doesn’t deserve to join our ‘Three Musketeers’!”

A little disappointed, Song Qiaoxi shook her head and said seriously to her two friends. “Chu Jin isn’t ignoring anyone. He’s just not familiar with you guys yet. Some people are more introverted, but once you get to know them, you’ll realize they’re actually very warm. Chu Jin, he does care about people…”

There was more she wanted to say, but her words got stuck because she was too shy.

In her heart, she believed Chu Jin was like a prince—after all, a fallen prince was still a prince.

The little dumpling’s voice, crisp and sweet, drifted through the broken window, carried by the summer breeze, stumbling into the boiler room.

Chu Jin, sitting in the corner on an old spool bench heard it clearly. He blinked uncomfortably and bit his lip.

Right now, he was just a burden that no one wanted, and Uncle Song and Aunt Qiao were only pitying him.

His parents had taught him from a young age not to be a burden to others. He learned to take care of himself when he was still little.

What he longed for now was simply a place to shield him from the storm—somewhere he could eat a steamed bun a day and have access to school.

His parents gave him the name “Jin,” hoping he would always give his best in everything, leaving nothing behind.

He had patience. He knew that he was nowhere near reaching the end of his rope.

Chu Jin looked up, scanning the dilapidated boiler room.

Perhaps, here, he could find a temporary “shelter” from the storm?

To seek revenge, one must grow, become stronger, and endure hardship—just like Edmond Dantès…

The boiler room was eerily quiet. Wang Junyang who had a short temper, didn’t get the back-and-forth banter he expected. Instead, he sulked angrily on the floor, sucking on a stick of grape-flavored Wangzai crushed ice.

Song Qiaoxi ate her yogurt-flavored ice in silence, the strawberry-flavored one melting quickly. She handed it to Wang Junyang and Ding Yi, letting them each take a bite. Within moments, they’d finished it off.

Afterward, it took a lot of effort on her part to convince the two boys to play hide and seek with Chu Jin.

Though they agreed, they still kept their heads down, hands stuffed in their pockets, kicking stones on the cement ground in front of the boiler room.

Occasionally shoving or slapping each other, their faces full of reluctance.

Sigh, they were really childish.

Standing before the worn iron door of the boiler room, Song Qiaoxi shook her head in exasperation, took a deep breath, and pushed open the dilapidated door.

The small room, no more than a dozen square meters, was thick with dust particles drifting through the air, carrying the heavy scent of dampness.

The pale-faced boy sat in the corner on a spool bench, holding a thick book, his back straight as his eyes slowly scanned the pages.

Curiosity killed the cat. She had seen him absorbed in that book several times before and had even wanted him to read it to her but then she got distracted by cartoons and forgot all about it.

Without thinking, the little dumpling asked. “What’s The Count of Monte Cristo about? Is it good?”

Ah, she had meant to ask if he wanted to play hide and seek…

“It’s good.”

Chu Jin didn’t look up, replying coldly.

It seemed like he really was upset—two questions, and he’d only answer one?

Song Qiaoxi scratched her head, feeling a bit awkward.

The atmosphere suddenly grew tense.

She tried to steady herself, about to ask if he wanted to play hide and seek when the iron door of the boiler room creaked open with a soft “screech.”

Wang Junyang and Ding Yi rushed in, shoving the door shut behind them.

“My dad, your dad, and your dad are all outside, along with Aunt Gao from the neighborhood committee and a familiar-looking uncle. He’s probably some kind of leader.”

Wang Junyang lowered his voice, pointing his finger at Ding Yi and Song Qiaoxi, then gestured toward the door. When he mentioned the “leader,” he straightened up, making a round gesture with his hands to indicate the man had a big belly.

Next to the boiler room, there were several rows of bungalows, home to the families of workers from the newspaper’s printing factory. Right next to the boiler room was the neighborhood committee’s office.

Song Qiaoxi suddenly remembered the adults were having a meeting this afternoon to discuss Chu Jin’s situation.

So the meeting’s here?

What a coincidence.

After a brief inner struggle, she hesitated and whispered to her friends. “Should we go listen in?”

The “Three Musketeers” hadn’t caused trouble in a while. Wang Junyang and Ding Yi immediately raised their hands in agreement, their little faces lighting up with excitement, quickly brushing off the earlier tension.

Song Qiaoxi hesitated. She had decided to be a good girl who didn’t cause trouble, but this was about Chu Jin and she was eager to hear firsthand information about the meeting.

“Chu Jin, do you want to go? They’re discussing your situation.”

Sneaking to the corner of the boiler room, the little dumpling bent down, resting her hand on her knee, and whispered to him.

Seeing him look up with his eyes gleaming, she made up her mind for him.

With a swift motion, she grabbed his wrist and pulled him toward the door. Chu Jin didn’t resist.

Song Qiaoxi guessed that her parents wanted Chu Jin to stay at their house, and of course, she wanted him to know this good news right away.

She signaled to Wang Junyang and Ding Yi who were keeping watch by the door, and the four children crouched low, sneaking out of the boiler room.

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