She sadly realized that this little boy hated her.

At the front of the classroom, Chloe Evans frowned as she watched this scene. Could it be that Mr. Grant was right, that Charles Page didn’t like Emma Bennett, and would bully her even if they sat together?

If that was really the case, and Charles Page didn’t want to sit with little Emma Bennett, then it would be best to let Emma Bennett sit with Grace Ford.

Mr. Evans decided to ask the children what they thought. She had already asked Grace Ford earlier, and Grace Ford said, “Teacher, I want to sit with the other kids.”

So she would ask Charles Page next.

There was still some time before Brian Page came to pick up Charles Page after school. Mr. Evans pushed the wheelchair and let Charles Page wait in the teachers’ office for a while. She asked the little boy, “Do you not want to sit with Emma Bennett?”

Charles Page lifted his face.

His dark eyes were pure, like the deep black in a glass marble from years ago.

He didn’t speak, so Chloe Evans had to be honest with the little boy: “There’s a new little girl in the class now, her name is Grace Ford, and you met her today, Xiao Chuan. The teacher wants to ask you, do you want to sit alone, or sit with Emma Bennett, or with Grace Ford?”

Chloe Evans felt uneasy inside; she was most afraid of hearing the last answer.

Although it seemed like a multiple-choice question for Charles Page, as if the initiative was in his hands, Mr. Evans was afraid he would choose Grace Ford. After all, even if Charles Page was willing, Grace Ford most likely was not.

But Grace Ford really was a pretty and delicate child, even nicknamed “little jade girl.” If Charles Page chose Grace Ford, it would be the hardest to handle.

September had not yet brought the coolness of autumn, and Charles Page’s lips and throat were so dry they hurt.

He spoke in a voice so low that Chloe Evans could barely hear him: “I want to sit alone.”

When Mr. Evans heard this answer, she breathed a sigh of relief, but also felt a little disappointed. She said gently, “Xiao Chuan, children need to drink more water to stay healthy. If you need to use the bathroom, you can ask the teacher. I’m happy to take care of you, so don’t hold it in if you need to go, okay?”

Charles Page didn’t respond.

When he said “I want to sit alone,” he tried to stay calm, but after all, he was only five years old. His eyes stung with tears, almost about to fall. This was already his limit; he couldn’t calmly answer a second question from the teacher.

After the children left, Ms. Evans told Mr. Grant about Charles Page’s answer.

Mr. Grant nodded. “That’s good. Tomorrow, explain it to Emma Bennett and let her sit with Grace Ford.”

That was all they could do.

The next morning, when she came to class, Emma Bennett had already forgotten yesterday’s unhappiness. She opened her backpack and took out a small, cute bamboo dragonfly.

The bamboo dragonfly had its sharp wooden edges shaved off and was polished to a clumsy roundness.

Emma Bennett didn’t understand why she had made Charles Page unhappy yesterday. She thought about it at home that night and asked her dad to make her a “little dragonfly.”

She helped William Bennett sweep the floor. The four-year-old girl holding a broom looked both funny and clumsy. William Bennett couldn’t help but laugh and cry, so he made her a pretty bamboo dragonfly.

Now Emma Bennett handed the bamboo dragonfly over. “This can fly.” Emma Bennett demonstrated for him. Her small hand gripped the bamboo stick and twisted it, and the horizontal propeller “wings” spun. Emma Bennett let go, and the bamboo dragonfly flew out, hit the wall in the front corner of the classroom, and then slowly drifted down.

She hadn’t used much force, so the bamboo dragonfly didn’t fly far.

Charles Page watched her. A gentle breeze came through the window, blowing her wispy hair and the ribbon on her flower bud hair tie. She happily ran over to pick it up, opened her little hand, and gave the bamboo dragonfly to him: “It’s for you, don’t be mad.”

Charles Page couldn’t describe what he was feeling inside.

That little hand, as if it never learned a lesson, crossed the “Chu River and Han Border” between them, soft and tender, with no hint of aggression, yet it made him feel inexplicably uncomfortable.

He also ignored the existence of that dividing line, and with a trace of indescribable melancholy, took the bamboo dragonfly. Sure enough, he saw her apricot eyes light up instantly.

It was mid-September, almost autumn. She lowered her head, opened her water bottle, and drank, her little face nearly buried in the cup.

She didn’t know anything. She didn’t know he had already “abandoned” her, nor that he was no longer angry.

Charles Page’s pale hand stroked the bamboo dragonfly. His father was an outstanding detective, but couldn’t make toys like this. It was the first time he had seen a lifeless object fly lightly on its own. Charles Page didn’t need such toys; he had no legs, so if he let it fly, he wouldn’t be able to pick it up himself.

All he could do was hold it in his hand.

After class, Ms. Evans said, “Emma Bennett, go sit with Grace Ford.” As soon as she said this, the noisy preschool class fell silent for a moment. The children instinctively glanced at Charles Page, then at Grace Ford.

Emma Bennett clutched the little panda on her backpack, and looked up in a daze. She first looked at Ms. Evans, who didn’t seem to be joking, then at the stern-faced Grace Ford sitting on the far right of the classroom, and finally turned to look at Charles Page.

Her eyes were full of innocence and confusion, like mist spreading in an ink painting, silently asking him why the teacher was making her leave.