As long as it’s something you don’t want to tell others, is it a secret? Then does Zoe Young have any secrets? She rested her chin in her hands and thought for a long time. It seemed there was nothing about her that others didn’t know—at least, her mom knew everything. Wait! She jumped up excitedly. Yes, there was one thing her mom didn’t know. That sheet of manuscript paper lying in the cookie tin, with two names written on it: Alan Carter, Zoe Young. Zoe Young clenched her little fists and told herself: Zoe, from today on, you have a secret too.

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2. Farewell, Fourth Consort

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In the hottest part of August, Zoe Young celebrated her seventh birthday. But that day wasn’t a Sunday, and her mom still had to go to work. As compensation, her mom said she didn’t have to stay at her grandma’s house alone today, and brought her to her workplace instead. However, Zoe Young didn’t go in with her mom, but was entrusted to an auntie from the provincial government kindergarten across the hall.

“Auntie Li, sorry to trouble you, please look after her for me today. I’ll pick her up after work.” So this was the same teacher from the provincial government kindergarten who had once looked down on her “superior martial arts.” Zoe Young stood with her hands on her hips, glaring at the big plaque with gold characters on a black background, her brows twisted into a knot. Tch.

In the morning, all the kids had classes—learning pinyin, arithmetic, drawing, singing… Zoe Young listened to the singing coming from afar, quietly passing the time in the mailroom with an elderly granny. Granny Li brought her fruit and comic books, and told her she could go play on the slide or the swings in the little yard by herself—no one would fight her for them at this hour. But Zoe Young stared at the slide, her mind already wandering in outer space. The slide before her became a waterfall, and she was being chased by the evil cult known as the “provincial government kindergarten.” The round-faced auntie from the three-person interview team was glaring fiercely, brandishing a huge nine-ring broadsword behind her—gravely wounded heroine Zoe Young was forced to the edge of a cliff, with nowhere to go, so she leapt off the waterfall!

What Granny Li saw was Zoe Young sliding down the slide with a pained yet righteous expression.

The day passed quickly. At four in the afternoon, the kids, finally freed from the torment of lunch and naptime, gathered in the little yard to play games. The weather was hot, so many kids preferred to stay in the art room with the fan to draw or sing, and only a dozen or so wanted to stay outside.

Granny Li was busy knitting, head down. Zoe Young sat by the flowerbed, watching the boys climbing up and down the slide, and the girls squabbling over the three swings.

The sun was already slanting west. Zoe Young propped her chin in her hands, yawned out of boredom, and squinted her eyes. When she opened them again, there was suddenly someone in front of her.

A delicate little boy. He wore a white T-shirt and light gray shorts, with a Mickey Mouse on the shirt. He was holding an orange rubber ball, sweating from running, like a steaming bun.

“Who are you?” His voice was nice too, full of energy and courage that Benben didn’t have. “Zoe Young.” “That’s not what I meant…” He scratched the back of his head with his free hand, frowning in embarrassment. “Then what do you want to ask?” Zoe Young couldn’t help it and yawned again. The boy, feeling snubbed, was a bit annoyed and loudly questioned this outsider: “Where did you come from?” “My house,” Zoe Young said lazily. She knew this answer was basically useless, but for some reason, the moment she saw this boy, she just wanted to go against him. The worse his expression got, the happier she felt. “You, you, you!” The boy threw his ball to the ground, not caring as it bounced away, and took a big step toward Zoe Young. “What are you doing?!” Zoe Young looked up warily, glaring at him.

“Andrew Lane!” As they faced off, a little girl ran over from not far away. She wore a pink princess dress, had two pigtails, and was carrying a big calendar almost as tall as she was, running over, “Teacher Yang gave us the calendar!”

The kids all gathered around, flipping through the colorful calendar. Zoe Young caught a glimpse of the pictures—calendars in the 1990s were mostly landscapes, famous cars, animals, and beauties. She remembered the calendar at Benben’s house had swimsuit beauties, and she always blushed a little when she saw it.

The calendar in this little girl’s hands had photos of beauties in ancient costumes, wearing long dresses and golden hairpins, looking ethereal. Everyone exclaimed in awe, and the little girl watched the boy called Andrew Lane with an expectant, proud look. “Didn’t you say this calendar was pretty? Look, I got it from the teacher for you!”

Andrew Lane was still more interested in Zoe Young. He turned and glanced at the little girl: “What do I want it for?” The little girl froze, pouted, and suddenly stomped her foot: “If you don’t want it, I’ll give it to everyone else!” “Then go ahead.” Zoe Young even felt a little sorry for the little girl showing off her treasure, but Andrew Lane still wouldn’t let her go: “Hey, what are you doing at our kindergarten?”

The little girl angrily tore the calendar apart, handing out pages to the cheering girls around her, all the while glaring at the back of Andrew Lane’s head. Zoe Young watched the fluttering pictures of beauties and couldn’t help but sigh.

“There’s only one left, you really don’t want it?” The little girl, still unwilling to give up, asked Andrew Lane one last time. Zoe Young raised her eyebrows when she saw it—it was the page for August, the one nobody wanted, probably because it only showed the back of a woman in a blue dress.

“Give it to her!” Andrew Lane seemed to read Zoe Young’s mind, pointed at her, still wearing a grumpy face. The little girl turned with a “hmph,” stuffed the slippery calendar page into Zoe Young’s arms, and ran off. Zoe Young looked at the page, and repeated Andrew Lane’s earlier words to the little girl, word for word—“What do I want it for?”

Before Andrew Lane could get mad, a boy in the distance shouted, “Andrew Lane, what are you doing? Are you playing or not?”

Andrew Lane angrily grabbed Zoe Young’s hand and pulled her up from the flowerbed. “What are you doing?” “You…” He pointed at the beauty’s back on the calendar page. “Now this is your portrait.” “Huh?”

“You, you’re now my Four Queens!” “……”

That’s when Zoe Young realized they’d been playing a “palace” game all along. Andrew Lane was always the emperor, the pigtail girl was the empress, the other girls were imperial consorts or princesses, and the boys were princes, guards, or ministers. The game was a bit chaotic, but it was definitely more sophisticated than “princess and bandit.”

The little girl’s anger seemed to infect the others—no one wanted to pay attention to the “Four Queens” Zoe Young. The empress immediately issued a decree banishing her to the cold palace. Zoe Young carried her piece of paper to the swing, watching the others run around with their calendar pages in the wind, making them flutter and rustle.

The emperor kept glaring at her, as if she were not the Four Queens but an assassin. Finally, the ministers and guards joined forces and staged a palace coup. Zoe Young watched as the empress and the other consorts pretended to cry, while Andrew Lane was grabbed by two boys, one on each side, ready to be sent to prison—she couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

Everyone stared at her, the unwanted consort in the cold palace, and she couldn’t laugh anymore. Two more guards ran out of the crowd, pretending to catch her, which reignited Zoe Young’s long-suppressed heroine complex—how dare the “provincial government kindergarten” cult persecute her?! She immediately unleashed a “Pegasus Meteor Fist,” pushed away the guards, grabbed Andrew Lane’s arm, and ran!

“Get them!” the empress shrieked, and a group of consorts and ministers gave chase, their footsteps thumping, a dozen calendar pages rustling in the wind…

Zoe Young didn’t know if she’d lost her mind—why was she running off with the emperor? But the boy she was dragging along no longer wore a grumpy face; his expression shifted from confusion to a smile in a second. He gripped her hand tightly, and together they ran toward the gentle, warm sunset. Looking up, they could see clouds spread across the pink-purple sky, high and peaceful, soft and beautiful like whipped cream.

The teacher’s arrival interrupted their palace coup—it was almost time to go home, and they had to return to the classroom. The kids all ran to the door. The pigtail girl came over, shot Zoe Young a look, and said to the panting Andrew Lane, “Are you coming or not?”

Andrew Lane smiled and asked Zoe Young, “Are you coming again tomorrow?” Zoe Young shook her head. “No.”