She quietly read through it once, hmm, pretty simple. The experienced actress Zoe Young had always been confident in her line delivery. The kids in the first two rows had already stood up and started reading aloud, and Zoe Young felt her palms sweating—not from nervousness, but from excitement. Very excited.

When she stood up, she even gave Mr. Hughes a flustered smile—only to receive a look of astonishment from Mr. Hughes.

Autumn had arrived, and the weather was getting cooler.

Yellow leaves fell from the trees one after another. A flock of wild geese flew south, sometimes forming a V, sometimes a straight line. Ah! Autumn had arrived.

That “ah” was especially loud, full of tenderness. After she sat down, she looked at Mr. Hughes with wide, expectant eyes, and for those few seconds, it felt as if the whole universe had come to an end.

“Did everyone hear that? This is what it means to read with feeling, like Zoe Young did—not just fluently, but with emotion. Don’t you all agree?”

Zoe Young saw the long-missed Maribelle and Duke Gregory raise their glasses to her in salute. She pressed her lips together, not smiling, putting on a modest expression of “I still have a long way to go,” but in her heart, ten thousand flowers were blooming in joy.

No matter how splendid, it couldn’t compare to the first little four-petal red flower in her life.

Good things come in pairs. In the first math class that afternoon, Mr. Hughes drew a garden and six butterflies on the blackboard, then asked, “There are six butterflies in the garden, and three have flown away…”

Zoe Young believed that no one in the class couldn’t solve this problem. But Mr. Hughes’s question was, “Can you guess what I’m going to ask? What is this problem asking for?” The children eagerly raised their hands.

“The minus sign!”

“The flowers!”

“The…” Amid the chaos, Zoe Young quietly rested her chin in her hand, watching the lively classroom. Since starting elementary school, she had never raised her hand. “Zoe Young, what do you think it’s asking for?”

Zoe Young was startled, then answered with an obvious expression, “It’s asking… how many butterflies are left…” Many faces in the class suddenly showed an “Oh, I see” look. Mr. Hughes smiled gently and said, “Everyone, is that right?”

“Yes—”

It felt like she was commanding the world, and this time, the crowd wasn’t just in her imagination. Zoe Young spent this Friday in a daze. But it didn’t matter; she still had the whole weekend to savor it.

When she went home after school that day, even Andrew Lane could tell that Zoe Young was happier than usual. Although she was just as quiet as always, not shouting or laughing, the corners of her mouth were unconsciously turned up, even if just a little.

That tiny curve was something he would never forget for the rest of his life. That night, Zoe Young went to bed early but couldn’t fall asleep. When her mom came home, she turned over and pretended to get up to use the bathroom, then sat on the bed, thinking things over, before shyly saying in Andrew Lane’s “it’s no big deal” tone, “Today… the teacher praised me today.”

Her mom was removing her makeup and gave her a tired smile when she heard this: “Mom has always known that you’re the best, 周周.” Why did a compliment sound a little different? Zoe Young couldn’t tell, but she still went to sleep full of happiness.

A good wind can send me soaring. There’s no reason behind the reason—just wait for that wind, or the person who brings you a fan. At that time, Zoe Young didn’t know that half a month later, she would really “command the world.”

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11. Acquaintance A

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“That’s it. Hmm, which hero do you think is better?” “...A heroine, maybe?”

Zoe Young tilted her head and thought for a long time, but swallowed back the words, “The only heroine I know is ‘Give me strength, I am She-Ra.’” “Who are the heroines?”

Andrew Lane also tilted his head, thinking hard for a long time: “I can only remember two—one is Jiang Jie, one is Zhao Yiman, and there’s another one I can’t recall, was it Qiu Jin or Qiu Lin or Qiu…”

“Then let’s go with Jiang Jie and Zhao Yiman, I don’t know them anyway.” Andrew Lane took a golden fifty-cent coin from his pocket: “Heads for Jiang Jie, tails for Zhao Yiman.” He tossed the coin into the air, letting it spin in the sunset before catching it. “Tails. Zhao Yiman.” Zoe Young nodded, and just like that, her contestant was decided.

After that math class, Mr. Hughes liked to have Zoe Young speak up more and more. Zoe Young gradually began to enjoy raising her hand in class, and sometimes, she could even lead the class in reading with Swallow, reading a line and having everyone repeat it, just like the old scholars on TV leading a group of students in reciting “Confucius says, Confucius says.”

Bad things always come with a sense of foreboding, but good things arrive quietly. That day, after PE, Zoe Young returned early to the classroom and happened to see Mr. Hughes, the head counselor Mr. Lewis, and Swallow standing at the door talking about something. Zoe Young lowered her head, trying to slip in, but Mr. Hughes called her: “Perfect timing, what do you think of this student? Zoe Young, come here!”

She walked over and saw the head counselor, who was like a cult figure to the new first graders, looking her up and down like a potato at the market, then finally said, “Pretty cute, read a passage for me.”

So Zoe Young ran inside, grabbed a Chinese textbook, and stood at the door reading to the head counselor, not knowing what was going on. When she finished, she looked up expectantly, but the head counselor didn’t seem to have listened at all.

“Come on, come to the team office, bring your Chinese book.” When Zoe Young entered the room, she saw six kids inside, three she didn’t know, and the other three were Tina Young, Andrew Lane, and a girl who looked familiar. After thinking for a moment, she remembered—it was the girl from the provincial government kindergarten who tore calendar pages.

It turned out that the provincial “Concord Pharmaceuticals Cup” Children’s Storytelling Competition was about to begin, and the school needed to select one first grader for the children’s group and three fifth graders for the youth group. The six kids in the room were all first-grade candidates.

In the team office, everyone was as tense as wooden dolls, even Tina Young’s little eyes were darting around, not daring to breathe. There was a long sofa in the room, but everyone clutched their Chinese books and stood, except for Andrew Lane, who sat casually at the end of the sofa. When he saw Zoe Young, he was surprised at first, then smiled and waved her over.

“Come sit with me, 周周!” Zoe Young felt the sudden stares made her hair stand on end, so she shook her head heavily and helplessly at Andrew Lane. Reading the passage, one after another. Faced with this opportunity, everyone read as if the passage was their own mother, dragging out every word, their voices trembling and rising at the end, full of emotion, so much that it was almost dripping. When it was Tina Young’s turn, she didn’t even realize her expression had become almost ferocious.

Zoe Young suddenly wanted to laugh. She lowered her head, pretending to review the passage, using her book to cover her face, but her eyes were already crescent-shaped. When she looked up, she saw Andrew Lane was also laughing—though it seemed he was laughing at her.

Andrew Lane was fifth. He stood up, holding his Chinese book, his voice neither too loud nor too soft, still a little boy’s tender but clear tone. Rarely, Andrew Lane was as serious as he had been leading the oath at the joining ceremony. He was earnest, read relaxedly, at a moderate pace, as if speaking normally, not at all affected.

Zoe Young tilted her head and smiled at him. Yes, this is how reading a passage should be, and Andrew Lane really did read better than the others. Zoe Young was last. Andrew Lane didn’t know that Zoe Young had already “turned things around”; his impression of her was still that little girl who had her homework book torn up by the teacher, scored forty on the pinyin test, and cried when caught by the class monitor. This time, Zoe Young chose another passage that wasn’t beautiful at all, imitating Andrew Lane’s style, her voice relaxed and tone natural.

The little goat and the little chick became friends. The little chick invited the little goat to eat worms. The little goat said, “Thank you! I don’t eat worms.”

The little goat and the little cat became friends. The little cat invited the little goat to eat fish. The little goat said, “Thank you! I don’t eat fish.” The little goat and the little dog became friends. The little dog invited the little goat to eat bones. The little goat said, “Thank you! I don’t eat bones.”

The little goat and the little calf became friends. The little calf invited the little goat to eat grass. The little goat said, “Thank you!” The little goat and the little calf ate grass together.