When it comes to taking care of children, there are some things that fathers just can’t seem to learn, while mothers seem to have a natural knack for them.
For example, there’s the matter of doing hair. Little Tong’s bowl cut, which had been ruined by Yu Feiyang, had grown out a bit and now looked rather odd—shapeless and drooping limply on her head.
Little Tong insisted on keeping her hair long, and Zhong Jin was at a loss on how to deal with this awkward hairstyle.
But this morning, Qiu Sheng somehow found two small hair ties and divided the child’s hair into two sections, tying each into a perky little pigtail on either side of her head.
When the pigtails were first done, Zhong Jin already thought they looked adorable, but Qiu Sheng then used a comb to tease out some soft, wispy strands around the edges. With her big, bright eyes and the fluffy pigtails, Little Tong’s cuteness level skyrocketed by 100%.
Standing on the bathroom stool, Little Tong looked at her reflection in the mirror and giggled, “Ah, I’ve sprouted!”
At that moment, Zhong Jin even briefly forgave Yu Feiyang.
Zhong Jin picked up a few strands of hair that had fallen out while combing the child’s hair and placed them into an evidence bag. He then said to Qiu Sheng,
“Pluck a few strands of your hair. We’re going to do a paternity test later.”
Qiu Sheng, who was applying lipstick, handed her toothbrush to Zhong Jin instead. “I can’t pluck any. This is a wig.”
“What are you talking about? Isn’t this how your hair has always looked?”
Qiu Sheng bent down and parted the hair on her head to show Zhong Jin. “This is hair extensions. I cut my original hair short.”
“Why?”
“After we broke up, I was so upset that I shaved my head. I regretted it immediately—after all, I’m a public figure. If someone had taken a photo, it would’ve gone viral. So once my original hair grew out a bit, I got extensions.”
Zhong Jin didn’t believe her. “You seemed so calm when we divorced. I don’t think you’d do something like that.”
“Believe it or not.”
Qiu Sheng rolled her eyes at him. “I don’t have time for this. Stop hovering around me.”
Zhong Jin put the toothbrush into the evidence bag and left the bathroom.
The paternity test was done at a private hospital. By paying an extra 500 yuan for expedited service, they could get the results by tomorrow afternoon.
After leaving the hospital, Zhong Jin held Little Tong in his arms and stood at the entrance, asking Qiu Sheng, “Little Tong and I are going chicken chasing today. Do you want to come?”
Qiu Sheng was baffled. “Chicken chasing? What’s that? Why are you chasing chickens?”
“It’s a unique recreational activity in Haishan. It’s really fun. Want to join?”
Little Tong clasped her hands together and enthusiastically recommended it to her mother. “Chicken chasing is so much fun!”
And so, Qiu Sheng found herself dragged along, following them to a free-range chicken farm located in the mountains on the outskirts of the city.
Seeing Qiu Sheng standing amidst a flock of clucking chickens, her brows furrowed the entire time, Zhong Jin felt confident that his plan would succeed.
He had thought it through carefully yesterday. Based on his understanding of Qiu Sheng, she was inherently lazy.
She and Zhong Jin had grown up together, their family villas next to each other, and their financial situations were similar.
She also had an older brother, so she had been pampered by her family since childhood—a typical spoiled Beijing socialite, both delicate and lazy. In her early twenties, she was scouted by a talent agent and briefly entered the entertainment industry, acting in a few TV dramas and shooting a couple of commercials.
Later, Qiu Sheng found the entertainment industry too competitive and exhausting, and celebrities were often targets of online bullying. She decided it wasn’t worth it and stopped taking on roles.
After leaving the industry, she never worked again. Her family was wealthy, so she spent her days lounging at home, eating, drinking, getting beauty treatments, and hanging out with her girlfriends. Life was comfortable.
Zhong Jin believed that her current insistence on fighting for custody of the child was because she had no idea how much work raising a child entailed. She probably thought it was like playing with her collection of Barbie dolls—just dress the child up nicely, set her down, and she’d grow up on her own.
So Zhong Jin needed to show Qiu Sheng the more challenging aspects of parenting, hoping to make her back off.
Now, Qiu Sheng stood by the chicken coop fence, her face filled with worry, her brows deeply furrowed, as if she were witnessing a disaster.
Zhong Jin pretended to be considerate and said to her, “Why don’t you wait in the car? This is just part of raising a child. If the child wants to play, you have to go along with it. And this is just the beginning—there’s also digging sand pits, playing in the mud, stomping in puddles. Whatever’s dirty, she loves it.”
Qiu Sheng’s face was clouded with distress.
Zhong Jin was even more pleased.
They waited by the chicken coop for a while until a girl, around ten years old, ran over from a nearby farmhouse. She used a key hanging around her neck to unlock the gate for them.
The girl opened the gate and warned them, “Uncle, Auntie, be careful. Don’t get pecked by the chickens.”
Qiu Sheng pressed her fingers to her temples and asked anxiously, “Do the chickens peck people?”
“Most of them don’t, but that big rooster over there does. Just stay away from him.”
They followed the direction of the girl’s finger and saw a tall, majestic rooster standing on a wooden post, eyeing them with an air of authority. It fluffed its feathers as if to intimidate them.
Little Tong puffed out her cheeks and stared back at the rooster. When it fluffed its feathers, she immediately spread her little arms and flapped them, shouting, “Don’t you dare come over! I’m super fierce!”
The rooster suddenly charged at the child, and Little Tong squealed in fright, turning to run.
Zhong Jin immediately turned around, pulling his daughter into his arms and shielding her with his back.
The rooster flew up and pecked Zhong Jin’s butt.
In the next moment, Qiu Sheng grabbed a stainless steel basin and swung it at the rooster, sending it flying through the air with two dramatic spins before it landed in a flurry of feathers and fled in disarray.
With the unexpected incident, their chicken-chasing plan was derailed.
Zhong Jin had intended to give Qiu Sheng a reality check, but instead, his butt was sore, and he was scolded by Qiu Sheng the whole way back.
“How could you take a child to do something so dangerous? Thank goodness it was you who got pecked. What if it had been the child?”
Little Tong crossed her arms and added fuel to the fire. “You should thank Mom for saving you.”
Zhong Jin glared at the little troublemaker through the rearview mirror.
She immediately turned to Qiu Sheng and complained, “He’s glaring at me!”
Qiu Sheng raised her hand, and Zhong Jin quickly apologized, “I’m sorry. It was my fault today. I didn’t think it through. I’ll treat you both to a buffet dinner to make up for it.”
The little traitor quickly pulled Qiu Sheng’s raised arm down. “He apologized. Don’t hit him, okay?”
After dinner, Little Tong insisted on riding the mini train at the square. Zhong Jin knew his daughter’s temperament—she wouldn’t get off after just one ride—so he paid for two rounds upfront.
As the mini train circled the square, Zhong Jin called out to her when it passed by, “Close your mouth! Don’t swallow the wind!”
Little Tong selectively ignored him, still opening her mouth wide, letting the wind puff out her cheeks. Zhong Jin jogged alongside the train,
“Zhong Yuntong, close your mouth! If you swallow the wind, your stomach will hurt tonight, I’m telling you!”
Only when the child finally closed her mouth did Zhong Jin return to Qiu Sheng’s side.
Qiu Sheng was browsing a nearby stall.
She picked up a fluffy panda headband and a giraffe headband, showing them to Zhong Jin. “Which one looks better?”
Zhong Jin pointed to the panda. “This one’s cuter.”
Qiu Sheng then said to the stall owner, “I’ll take two of the giraffe ones—one for an adult and one for a child.”
The owner asked, “How old is the child?”
Qiu Sheng pointed to Little Tong, who was sitting in the mini train. “That’s my daughter over there.”
The owner glanced over and said, “Her head is big and round. This will fit her perfectly.”
After Qiu Sheng paid, Zhong Jin grumbled, “You never listen to my opinion, so why do you always ask me?”
Qiu Sheng stuffed the two headbands into her bag. “Who says I don’t listen? Based on your opinion, I eliminated the uglier one.”
Zhong Jin didn’t say anything more. He had long grown accustomed to it—Qiu Sheng had a knack for being a little infuriating.
*
The next morning was the orientation day at the District Experimental Kindergarten, where parents interested in enrolling their children could bring them for a day-long experience.
According to the activities listed on the school’s official website, breakfast was also provided at the kindergarten, so Zhong Jin didn’t prepare breakfast at home that morning.
Qiu Sheng combed Little Tong’s hair, put on the giraffe headband they had bought the day before, and dressed her in a dinosaur-print lantern overalls.
Zhong Jin carried the matching backpack for the overalls, and the three of them headed out together.
Qiu Sheng also wore the giraffe headband, her face mostly hidden behind large black sunglasses. Though her features were obscured, her presence was undeniably striking.
The headbands on both mother and daughter made them look far more elegant, as if they were wearing high-end accessories rather than something from a street vendor.
When the three of them appeared at the school gate, they immediately drew a lot of attention. Their looks and demeanor made them seem less like parents and children here for an orientation and more like models for a school promotional shoot.
Zhong Jin felt a bit self-conscious under the gaze of others and whispered to Qiu Sheng, “Are you really going to keep those sunglasses on? It looks a little odd.”
“What if someone recognizes me as Qiu Danhua?”
Qiu Danhua was the stage name Qiu Sheng had used during her time in the entertainment industry. Back then, her agency had consulted a fortune-teller to come up with that name for her.
At the time, Qiu Sheng was still a newcomer in the industry. Though she didn’t like the name, she didn’t dare object, so she spent her brief acting career under the name Qiu Danhua.
Qiu Sheng had always been very image-conscious. Even after leaving the industry, she was terrified of being recognized as Qiu Danhua, especially since her acting skills weren’t particularly impressive. The few roles she had played were painfully awkward, which only made her more anxious about being identified.
Zhong Jin said, “It’s been so many years, and you weren’t even that famous back then. No one’s going to recognize you. Just take off the sunglasses. It’s overcast today, and with those black shades on, people might think you’re blind.”
Qiu Sheng took his advice and removed the sunglasses.
Little Tong spotted someone she recognized in the crowd and waved, shouting, “Xiang Zimo!”
Xiang Ruicheng heard the call and brought Xiang Zimo over.
Zhong Jin asked, “Isn’t today for new students’ orientation? Why are you two here?”
If he remembered correctly, Xiang Zimo was already in the senior class. Why were these seasoned pros attending a new students’ orientation?
Xiang Ruicheng puffed out his chest proudly. “See this? A red badge. We’re outstanding student and parent representatives. The school specially invited us to guide you newbies.”
“So, you’re here as free labor,” Zhong Jin remarked bluntly.
Xiang Ruicheng covered his son’s ears. “Don’t say such honest things in front of the kids.”
After a bit of banter with Zhong Jin, Xiang Ruicheng finally noticed Qiu Sheng standing beside him. “Oh, and who’s this?”
“I’m Zhong Yuntong’s mother. Nice to meet you,” Qiu Sheng greeted him politely.
Xiang Ruicheng stared at her. “You’re Qiu Danhua, aren’t you?”
Qiu Sheng hesitated. “No, I’m not.”
“You are! I loved your role as Princess Qingluo. I even have a photo of Princess Qingluo saved on my phone. You’re definitely her.”
Throughout breakfast, Xiang Ruicheng kept pressing Qiu Sheng about whether she was Qiu Danhua. Qiu Sheng, who already hated being recognized, was on the verge of losing her temper several times.
Meanwhile, Zhong Jin sat awkwardly on a tiny stool, his long legs folded uncomfortably, as he meticulously analyzed the nutritional balance of the kindergarten’s breakfast. He concluded that the meal was too heavy on carbs and severely lacking in vitamins and minerals.
As a result, Zhong Jin decided that Little Tong’s breakfast would still need to be prepared at home once she started school.
The school had set up small stools on the playground, and after breakfast, parents and children gathered in small groups to rest.
In the rest area, they ran into Miao Qingyue and her family, who had arrived later. Miao Qingyue was now fitted with a prosthetic leg, but since she was still getting used to it, she couldn’t walk much yet. Although she was wearing the prosthetic today, she remained in a wheelchair.
Encouraged by her mother, Miao Qingyue got up from her wheelchair and wobbled over to show off her new leg to everyone.
Amidst the cheers and encouragement from the adults, Little Tong quietly climbed into Miao Qingyue’s wheelchair and whispered to Xiang Zimo, “Come push me.”
Xiang Zimo pushed her around the playground for a while until a teacher assigned him a new task, leaving Little Tong sitting alone in the wheelchair.
Just as Little Tong was about to get up and return the wheelchair, Teacher Luo, who was in charge of welcoming new students for the Ginkgo Class, noticed her.
Teacher Luo had previously been informed that one of the children in her class had a physical disability, and the principal had asked her to pay special attention to the child.
Seeing the child sitting alone in the middle of the playground, Teacher Luo quickly put down her disposable cup and hurried over.
“Little one, what’s your name? Why are you here by yourself?”
The child, who had just been about to stand up, plopped back down in fright. “My name is Zhong Yuntong. Hello.”
“Hello, Zhong Yuntong, right? You’re so adorable. Are your legs not feeling well? Do you need any help?”
Perhaps children are born with an innate fear of teachers. Despite Teacher Luo’s friendly demeanor, the poor child was still nervous.
Flustered, Little Tong waved her hands. “I’m very comfortable. No help needed. Goodbye!”
With that, she stood up and ran off on her short legs without looking back.
