Chu Jin did indeed think about it seriously. After a brief pause, he lowered his gaze, realizing he couldn’t explain everything in just a few words. Besides, he knew the little girl wouldn’t be interested in the book.

But seeing the redness in her eyes, he slowed his speech and softly said. “This book is about revenge. It’s also a story of ‘waiting’ and ‘hope.’”

As expected, the little girl blinked in confusion, stuck out her tongue in embarrassment, and turned back to immerse herself in the adventures of the little mice in the American countryside.

Chu Jin shook his head lightly, his gaze drifting away. He felt a lot lighter.

It was probably for the best that the little glutinous ball didn’t understand these things. She was a child who lived in a bubble of love, and she would grow up, step by step, surrounded by affection and happiness.

Revenge, waiting, hope—these things she wouldn’t understand.

He didn’t want her to understand.

Chu Jin’s gaze returned to the book, but he didn’t continue from the previous chapter. Instead, he flipped to the last page and silently read each word in his mind…

Until the words “waiting” and “hope” echoed in his brain.

Hope?

Yes, today, he had seen hope…

—

The boiler room had been abandoned for over a year.

It looked shabby and difficult to repair, but fortunately, it was only about 20 square meters, so renovating it wouldn’t take too much effort.

Chu Jin’s parents had been well-liked during their lifetimes and were financially well-off. They had selflessly helped many of their neighbors and friends.

Now, when people heard that the Chu family’s son had returned to live, everyone pitched in—some with money, others with labor.

In less than a week, the boiler room had already transformed from its previous state of decay.

The glass windows were repaired, and although the room was only painted white with some simple, old-fashioned furniture, it still looked cozy thanks to the careful touches of a few skilled mothers. The clean blue-and-white checkered bedspread was laid out, and a crocheted tablecloth covered the table.

At first glance, surprisingly, it felt quite warm and inviting!

August 24th was a Saturday, and the boiler room was ready.

Mother Song said there was still a bit of a smell, so they would wait a bit longer before moving in.

But Chu Jin, as stubborn as ever, packed up his things early, silently carried all his belongings—including that black bag—and sat outside the boiler room door early in the morning.

No one could argue with his strong-willed temper, and after lunch on Sunday, Chu Jin officially moved into the “boiler room.”

Although Song Qiao Xi had long accepted that Chu Jin wouldn’t be living at home, when the moment actually came and he was about to leave, even knowing that the place he was staying was no more than a five-minute walk away, she still felt a little down. She couldn’t shake off her gloomy mood and spent the whole day feeling lackluster.

For the entire afternoon, she stayed in her small room, flipping through comic books like Huluwa vs. Transformers, Huluwa vs. Black Cat Police Chief, Huluwa in Space Crisis, and others.

Her eyes occasionally darted to the little white rabbit clock on her bedside table, checking the time over and over, without tiring of it.

Wang Junyang and Ding Yi invited her to the boiler room to see the excitement, saying that many children wanted to see the newly renovated space but she didn’t feel like going.

Without any particular reason, Song Qiao Xi couldn’t let go of her pride and decided to go find Chu Jin.

She had her own little plan—once dinnertime arrived, she would have the perfect excuse to call Chu Jin over to her house for a meal.

Finally, the clock struck 5:45 PM.

Moved beyond measure by the Huluwa siblings and Black Cat Police Chief fighting side by side, Song Qiao Xi heard her mom call out to her. “Xi Xi, go invite Chu Jin over for dinner. We’re having lotus root, seaweed, and tofu casserole tonight…”

“Okay!”

She answered loudly, quickly closing the comic book. She hopped up from the bed, slipped on her slippers, and dashed out the door.

Her short legs couldn’t run very fast, and wearing slippers didn’t help, so she regretted not changing her shoes after a few steps.

It was a straight line from her house to the boiler room. It would take an adult about three minutes to walk, and a child would take around four to five minutes.

Song Qiao Xi’s mind was still full of Black Cat Police Chief and Huluwa battling it out, and she hummed to herself. “Eyes as big as copper bells, shooting lightning-fast sparks, ears upright like antennas, listening for every suspicious sound…”

She happily skipped along, idly playing with the holly bushes planted along the roadside, until she reached the boiler room door.

The boiler room in front of her was both familiar and unfamiliar. The windows had been replaced with new glass, and white curtains with blue little swallows printed on them now hung there.

The large iron gate was still the same as before. According to Uncle Ding, it was in good condition and could still be used. He had oiled it and repainted it with a fresh coat of blue paint.

The outside was tidy and well-kept which made her curious about what the inside looked like. She hadn’t been inside since the renovation.

When the moms were tidying up, they told the kids not to get in the way, saying the room was already small and they didn’t need to do anything.

There were a few steps leading up to the door of the single-story house. Song Qiao Xi carefully climbed them, hesitated for a moment before she knocked on the door of the boiler room.

“Chu Jin, Mom asked me to invite you to dinner. We’re having fried lotus root, seaweed, and tofu casserole tonight!”

The little dumpling shouted at the door, worried the person inside might not hear her.

Her small fingers nervously rubbed her chin as she eagerly waited for him to open the door and invite her in for a tour.

It reminded her of when neighbors moved into a new house in the compound. During housewarming parties, they would invite everyone over, offering snacks like hawthorn candy, White Rabbit milk candies, peach crisps, and shrimp chips, along with sweet-smelling eight-treasure tea to entertain their gue

Her favorite part of eight-treasure tea was the soft, soaked red dates and longan.

She had heard that many of the uncles and aunts in the compound had sent Chu Jin a lot of things, like household items, school supplies, and snacks.

What would he offer her?

Peach crisps, Wang Wang snow cakes, or maybe rice noodles?

This was his “housewarming,” right?

Wait, when her parents took her to other people’s homes, they never went empty-handed. They always brought something with them.

She felt awkward, her hands empty, so she slipped them into the pockets of her lantern shorts.

After searching for a while, all she found were a few sunflower seeds…

Staring at the handful of seeds in her hand, Song Qiao Xi felt a bit frustrated, wondering if these could count as a housewarming gift when the door suddenly opened.

Chu Jin stood there, dressed in a well-fitting navy blue short-sleeve outfit and white sneakers. This new set of clothes was a gift from Mother Wang, and it made him look clean, fresh, and sophisticated. The “little prince” vibe returned instantly.

Mother Wang truly lived up to her reputation as the most fashionable mom in the compound, her taste in children’s clothing was impeccable.

Her own mother had also bought Chu Jin several comfortable, solid-colored cotton T-shirts and shorts, all ready to be washed and given to him.

He stood before her looking down from his taller height.

Hmm, something caught her attention—a red string around his neck, with a key dangling from it.

Chu Jin was the big kid who had the key to the place!

By the time Song Qiao Xi snapped out of her thoughts and tried to peek inside, Chu Jin had already turned, swiftly locking the door with the key, checking it carefully to make sure it was secure, before stepping down the stairs.

He took a few steps forward, then paused, turning his head to ask in a calm tone. “Shall we go?”

The Little Glutinous Dumpling stood frozen, glancing first at the large iron door of the boiler room, then at Chu Jin standing tall a few meters away, and finally at the handful of sunflower seeds in her hand, caught in a dilemma.

Did he really not invite her inside to sit?

This wasn’t quite how she had imagined it.

Or could it be that she wasn’t invited in because she didn’t bring a gift?

Forget it, maybe another time…

Next time, she’ll bring some honeycomb candy wrapped in oil paper—at least then she won’t have to face a “closed-door rejection.”

“Ah… um, do you want some sunflower seeds?”

After a long pause, Song Qiao Xi finally stretched out her hand, looking for a way to ease the awkwardness.

Chu Jin had his hands in his pockets, frowning as he looked at her.

The little girl’s face turned pink, clearly holding back something she didn’t dare to say. It made him feel strangely curious—usually, whenever it was time to eat, she’d be the first to rush in. What was going on today?

Was she not hungry?

But no, it was already this time, and normally by now, she would be complaining about being hungry.

Sunflower seeds? They were about to eat…

Chu Jin shook his head, then extended a hand to Song Qiao Xi making a “come here” gesture, and patiently said. “Not eating? Shall we go?”

“Okay, fine,” she replied.

The little dumpling lowered her head, stuffed the sunflower seeds back into her pocket with a soft sigh, and skipped down the stairs.

On the way home, Song Qiao Xi’s chatter never stopped. Chu Jin noticed she was wearing slippers, and he worried she might trip if she walked too fast.

Although he remained silent, he deliberately slowed his pace, walking beside her.

It was another evening with the setting sun casting a golden glow. The compound was filled with the warm scent of home-cooked meals, and they could hear mothers calling their children to come in for dinner.

The two of them—one tall, one short—were like two little shadows heading from the boiler room toward the Song family’s apartment building.

Chu Jin’s ears were filled with Song Qiao Xi’s endless chatter.

Her voice was clear and bright, speaking quickly but never annoyingly. After a while, he had even gotten used to her constant babble, like a little yellow warbler chirping away.

She really had an active imagination, jumping from one topic to another with no filter, saying whatever popped into her head.

“Chu Jin, do you see what that cloud looks like?” Song Qiao Xi pointed at the sky and didn’t give him time to answer before laughing to herself. “I think it looks like a string of candied hawthorn!”

Heh. Chu Jin glanced up.

He smiled faintly to himself, almost feeling like flicking the little dumpling on her forehead.

How was it that all she thinks about was food?

The next moment, a small hand reached out, warm and soft like a little rabbit’s breath, gently brushing against his wrist.

“From now on, let’s walk together to school and back.” Song Qiao Xi stopped and suddenly said to him, not waiting for a response, her eyes curving into a pretty smile. “I’m afraid Jiang Qisheng will find you. Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

The streetlights in the compound flickered on.

Standing under the light, Chu Jin couldn’t help but smile.

—

August 31st was a Saturday.

It marked one week since Chu Jin officially moved into the boiler room, and there were still two days before the start of the new school year at the 96th Primary School.

In the first few days after Chu Jin moved in, the mothers in the compound, led by Mother Song were all very concerned about him.

At just 6 or 7 years old, many children still hadn’t separated from their parents’ room, and they worried Chu Jin wouldn’t be able to take care of himself.

But to their surprise, he adapted almost effortlessly. Not only was he completely self-sufficient, but he also kept his room neat and tidy.

Whenever the mothers got together to knit, they couldn’t help but shake their heads in frustration, lamenting the laziness of their own children.

They looked at their own messy homes, one by one slapping their thighs, enviously thinking why couldn’t their child be like someone else’s?

As for Song Qiao Xi, the week had been much less smooth. Some unpleasant things had happened.

The problem mainly stemmed from the “Three Musketeers.” No, she had already renamed it the “Four Musketeers..”

The original trio suddenly became a quartet, and it was a tough adjustment for Wang Junyang.

He complained several times to Ding Yi and even openly sulked in front of Song Qiaoxi, saying that he felt like his good friend was being stolen away…

Before, it was just him and Qiaoxi, but now with Chu Jin tagging along, they had to bring him everywhere.

Chu Jin’s cold and indifferent attitude toward everyone only made Wang Junyang dislike him even more.

Yesterday, Wang Junyang completely lost it.

In the afternoon, when the “little fourth-party group” went out together, he threw a tantrum at everyone.

Like he was in a trance, Wang Junyang demanded that Song Qiaoxi and Ding Yi pick one of them to be their “best friend.”

He even threatened that if they didn’t choose him, he would swear to sever ties with both of them.

Ding Yi who usually had no strong opinions, pushed up his glasses and hid behind Song Qiaoxi. He didn’t have any issues with Chu Jin—sure, he seemed a bit introverted and was polite to them, but that didn’t mean he disliked him.

Song Qiaoxi, on the other hand, was even more confused. Everyone was friends—why did they need to pick a “best friend” at all?

She tried to reason with Wang Junyang, and Ding Yi echoed her thoughts.

But Wang Junyang, unable to win the argument, shouted. “Xixi, you’ve changed! I’m not friends with you anymore!”

Stomping the concrete floor with a bouncing sound, he cried and ran away stomping on the cement floor making it echo as he cried and ran off without looking back.

Song Qiaoxi and Ding Yi exchanged glances. She was so frustrated she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. This little boy really had a temper, didn’t he?

She had changed, it was true—she was no longer the old Song Qiaoxi.

But how could she possibly explain the change from “transmigrating in to a book” to Wang Junyang?

The original owner entrusted this family to her, so Song Qiaoxi naturally had to take on the responsibility of protecting her parents.

Chu Jin had saved her, and she couldn’t just stand by and watch him go down the wrong path, turning into the villain so she had to take care of him.

Of course, Wang Junyang and Ding Yi had been the original owner’s little followers, but now they were her good friends. She wanted to progress and grow together with her friends, to help everyone become better people.

That was the dilemma—her heart was torn. She couldn’t give up on any of them, no matter who they were.

In the end, she decided it was better to let Wang Junyang cool down first.

The boy had a short temper, and when he was upset, it was probably useless to try to talk him down.

It was a bright and sunny Saturday.

Mother Song taking advantage of the sunny weather decided to wash the family’s bedding, pillowcases, towels, and other large items.

After buying breakfast, she went to the boiler room to call Chu Jin, and while she was there, she also took his bedding and pillowcases, bringing them home to wash as well.

The mother and daughter had just returned home when they ran into Father Song coming back from his night shift.

He entered the house, first ruffling his daughter’s hair—her head all messy from sleep—then giving Chu Jin a high-five and greeting him. Without even changing his clothes, he staggered like a zombie into the bedroom and collapsed on the bed to sleep.

Song Qiaoxi quietly closed the bedroom door behind him, then climbed onto a chair by the dining table.

On the table, there were two red sugar cakes, two egg rolls, and two steaming bowls of soy milk.

“Mom, have you eaten yet? What will Dad have when he wakes up?”

She swallowed as she gazed at her favorite red sugar cakes, leaning against the table and turning to ask her mother.

“I’ve eaten. I had tomato and egg noodles when I woke up. When your dad gets up, we’ll have lunch. These are for you two so eat them while they’re hot.”

Mother Song came out of her room, holding a sheet and with a nod of her chin to the two children, she entered the bathroom.

As long as her mother had eaten, she could relax.

Song Qiaoxi then grabbed a piece of red sugar cake from the plate, shaking her head before taking a bite, mimicking an adult’s sigh of regret.

She thought to herself, no wonder her mother had such a great figure—she never seemed to eat any fried food.

But fried snacks, hot dogs, and big chicken legs were Song Qiaoxi’s favorites.

Which was why her own body was soft and round with little bits of fat.

Her tiny hands tore open the steaming red sugar cake, and she made sure to bite into the parts filled with caramelized red sugar and oil. The rich, caramel flavor filled her mouth, and the little teeth made a “crunch” sound as she chewed, her cheeks getting a bit tired, but it didn’t stop her from enjoying every bite.

After finishing the sugary parts, she tore the remaining cake into small pieces and dipped them into the soy milk in her enamel bowl. The cake soaked up the soy milk, softening and becoming chewy, perfect for scooping with the stainless steel spoon.

Slurping the soy milk, Song Qiao Xi glanced up at Chu Jin across from her.

He was eating a savory egg bun, taking delicate, small bites, without making a sound.

Chu Jin was too quiet, making it impossible to know what he was thinking.

Her questions rarely got a direct answer, most often just a simple “mm,” and many things in life—she couldn’t tell if he liked them or not.

For example, when it came to breakfast, she’d observed for a long time and still couldn’t figure out his taste.

Whenever her mother brought breakfast home, she would always choose first, because even if she let Chu Jin pick first, he’d hesitate for so long that she’d end up choosing anyway so eventually, Song Qiao Xi stopped caring.

Because, no matter who picked first, her mother always bought double portions of sweet and savory options, so it didn’t matter.

What was strange was that, even if she chose something, and there was still a portion left, he never touched it.

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