The window of the neighborhood committee office was wide open, and the old ceiling fan creaked as it struggled to turn, pushing the warm, smoky air out into the street.

Below the window was a low outer wall about a meter high, and huddled against it were four kids squeezed together.

On the far left was Chu Jin, clutching a book. Beside him sat Song Qiaoxi with her curly pigtails, followed by Wang Junyang, a single-lidded boy, and then Ding Yi with his glasses.

Except for Chu Jin on the left who sat a little apart, the other three were packed together like slices in a can of peaches.

They could clearly hear the conversation inside, and Song Qiaoxi covered her mouth with one hand to stop herself from making any noise.

She wrinkled her nose, frowning in displeasure.

Good thing Dad doesn’t smoke—the smell was really gross…

“We deeply regret the tragic deaths of Officer Chu and Reporter Sun…”

The long-winded officialese made her drowsy; her head began to sway and nearly tipped onto Wang Junyang’s shoulder.

With a start, she shook herself awake.

The voice was unfamiliar—it must be the big-bellied leader Wang Junyang had mentioned.

“Our neighborhood committee has done its part, but the boy’s guardianship was placed with his uncle who ran off with the money, and no one can find him! And those two uncles… well, no need to mention them; everyone knows how awful they are. We’ve contacted the welfare agency, but without the guardianship transfer, they can’t take him…”

The sharp voice jolted Song Qiaoxi fully awake. Aunt Gao’s words came fast and harsh.

Hearing “awful uncles,” a rush of anger bubbled in her chest. She tilted her head, glancing sympathetically at Chu Jin, sitting to her left.

His face showed no expression, and feeling guilty she quickly looked away.

Then came another voice, calm and familiar. “Let me just say this: Chu Jin is a good kid. Lao Chu and Xiao Sun, we’ve known them for years—they were close friends. And this boy, he even called the police once to help save my daughter.”

It was her dad!

Song Qiaoxi perked up, her little hands clasped over her chest.

“My wife and I have discussed it, and Qiao Qin has no objections. We believe in repaying kindness with kindness. We’ll take in the boy, as though he were a son of the Song family.”

Her heart thumped wildly, but she didn’t dare look in Chu Jin’s direction.

No matter what expression Chu Jin wore, the little glutinous dumpling just couldn’t bring herself to look over at him.

“Brother Song, I have two kids of my own and we don’t have much. But to be honest, Officer Chu did so much to help my family back then. Maybe Chu Jin can’t live with us, but the Ding family will always have a place for him at our table. If Ding Yu and Ding Miao have food, so doe Chu Jin.”

Father Ding’s voice was steady and weighty despite his unhurried pace.

Song Qiaoxi leaned right, peeking past Wang Junyang to give Ding Yi a thumbs-up.

Ding Yi blushed, ducking his head into his chest.

“Since you two have put it all out there, I won’t beat around the bush. As for the boy’s school fees and living expenses, my family will cover him all the way through college, even if he goes for a doctorate.”

“The only issue is that my wife and I are both busy, so we barely have time for own kid, that rascal Wang Junyang, so having him with us might be difficult….”

After Father Wang finished saying this the adults started talking among themselves again, back and forth.

Listening to the chaotic arguments, Chu Jin felt a storm of emotions, his teeth sinking hard into his lip until he tasted blood.

Just a moment ago, he’d made a decision—a decision no one would be able to change.

Chu Jin took a deep breath, then shoved the book into Song Qiaoxi’s arms.

Under the stunned gazes of his three friends, he stood up, walked a few steady steps forward, and pushed open the wooden door of the neighborhood committee office.

The adults inside all looked at him, clearly taken aback, exchanging puzzled glances.

Song Qiaoxi’s father seemed to recover first. He quickly stepped forward, crouched to Chu Jin’s level, and placed a warm hand on his shoulder, smiling gently at him.

Chu Jin’s fingers pressed tightly into his palms as he tried to steady his nerves.

After calming his breathing, he pointed towards the direction of the boiler room and spoke clearly. “Thank you, Uncle Song, but I won’t stay at your house. I’ll be fine in the boiler room; I can take care of myself. For tuition and living expenses, let’s treat it as a loan—I’ll write an IOU and pay it back when I’m grown up…”

A seven-year-old saying such words stunned the entire place into silence for a few seconds, then an uproar erupted.

Song Qiaoxi sat frozen below the window, staring blankly while Wang Junyang and Ding Yi looked at her as if waiting for her to decide what to do.

Her mind was a jumble of confusion. This scene… was off-script?

In the original story, this part had never happened…

How could anyone live in such a run-down boiler room?

Clutching The Count of Monte Cristo, the glutinous dumpling’s ears buzzed with the adults’ heated back-and-forth.

As she crouched below the window, her heart pounded with unease. After listening for a while, she finally pieced things together.

All the adults in the office were trying to convince Chu Jin to accept Father Song’s offer of help.

But that calm, clear-headed boy—how could he be swayed so easily?

In response to every concern they raised, Chu Jin answered steadily and respectfully, leaving no room for critique. Even Aunt Gao, usually the sharpest speaker was left speechless, patting her leg in frustration.

It was the first time Song Qiaoxi had heard Chu Jin speak so much, saying things that even she, with her ten-year-old reasoning couldn’t quite match.

It was as if no one could alter a decision once he had made it.

The argument went on and on, but Chu Jin was as immovable as a rock, insisting he would stay in the boiler room and not with anyone else.

Then Aunt Gao spoke up—and her words finally broke the stalemate.

“Comrades, ahem, listen up, I have something to say.” Aunt Gao cleared her throat and raised her voice. “The boiler room—it’s not exactly uninhabitable. With a little cleaning up, it’s actually pretty spacious. Old Li and the others used to sleep there on night duty, and it’s warm in winter, isn’t it?”

The office fell silent.

Aunt Gao continued, “And the boiler room is right next to our committee office, so it’s safe. I’ve heard that young Chu Jin is very self-reliant. We neighbors can all lend a hand from time to time. With so many people in this courtyard, surely we can all look out for one child!”

Father Song said something, but Song Qiaoxi couldn’t quite catch it.

His voice was immediately drowned out by the big-bellied leader. “I agree with Director Gao—such high political awareness, very commendable!”

He rapped his knuckles on the table twice and continued, “Xiao Song, housing space is tight for everyone right now. When our unit’s housing improves in a few years, you can bring the boy home. Besides, you have a daughter, so it’s not convenient, is it? Back in the old days, people took in child brides. Are you planning on raising a son-in-law?”

Though she knew the leader uncle was joking, Song Qiaoxi’s cheeks flared red. She buried her head in her book, like a shy little quail.

“The boiler room’s just sitting there empty, so fixing it up wouldn’t hurt. I’ll arrange a cafeteria card for the kid, so he can have meals taken care of. If he excels academically, we can award a scholarship, and the neighbors in the courtyard can keep an eye on him day-to-day.”

When the leader finished, everyone but Father Song voiced their agreement.

Song Qiaoxi heard her dad argue a bit, but he couldn’t hold his ground against all their persuasions.

The most important thing was Chu Jin’s attitude.

He was so resolute, refusing to stay with the Song family no matter what.

Song Qiaoxi could barely keep calm anymore. After listening for so long, she was growing more anxious by the second.

The adults inside kept talking over one another, and her father was sighing in frustration which only added to her distress.

Her nose and eyes stung, and her breathing quickened. Clutching the book tightly, she braced herself on her left hand, unsteady as she tried to stand.

Her legs had gone numb from crouching too long, and she wobbled slightly before finding her balance.

She couldn’t let Chu Jin leave…

No matter what, she couldn’t let him walk away again!

With that single thought running through her mind, she prepared to burst into the committee office and join the “battle.”

>>>