The next morning, while dropping the kids off at school, Qiao Lanshu took the opportunity to visit Xiaxia’s homeroom teacher, Teacher Qian.
Teacher Qian was a young woman in her twenties, strict in her teaching. Since the start of the semester, Qiao Lanshu had only met her twice.
Seeing Qiao Lanshu approach, Teacher Qian looked a bit surprised. “You’re Qin Qiaoxia’s parent, right? Is something wrong today?”
Qiao Lanshu replied politely, “Yes, there’s something.”
When Qiao Lanshu entered the teachers’ office, Teacher Qian pulled out a chair for her.
Qiao Lanshu didn’t sit. She got straight to the point. “Teacher Qian, Xiaxia mentioned that during labor class a couple of days ago, some classmates mocked her. What exactly happened? Could you tell me the details?”
It was a small matter, really. Most kids wouldn’t mention it at home, and even if they did, parents often wouldn’t pay much attention.
Back then, parents generally listened to teachers. Some teachers even disciplined children physically at school, and parents would applaud them for it.
So a parent like Qiao Lanshu, coming to question a teacher over a child being teased, was something Teacher Qian had never encountered before.
Teacher Qian felt a bit put off. No parent had ever asked her about this before, and she felt this parent was challenging her authority as a teacher.
But since Qiao Lanshu was a teacher at the local high school, Teacher Qian kept her tone polite. She gave a faint smile and said, “Teacher Qiao, children are still young. This was probably just a joke. At their age, they love to play around. Maybe they wanted to have fun with Xiaxia, but Xiaxia misunderstood them.”
Hearing this, Qiao Lanshu nodded, though she didn’t fully agree. “You make a good point, Teacher Qian. That’s what I thought at first, too. But this isn’t the first time it’s happened. Xiaxia has mentioned it a couple of times at home. So I hope next time something like this occurs, you’ll step in to stop those kids. Even if they meant to play with Xiaxia, if Xiaxia herself doesn’t want to, then she shouldn’t be forced to go along with it, don’t you think?
Besides, the kids are still young—just first graders. This is exactly the time they need guidance. I believe with your direction, Teacher Qian, they can learn that forcing someone to play when they don’t want to, or mocking and humiliating others publicly, is wrong behavior.”
Teacher Qian was displeased by Qiao Lanshu’s words.
She felt that Qiao Lanshu, as a high school teacher, was looking down on her—a primary school teacher with only a vocational school diploma—and had come specifically to lecture her.
But she, too, was a teacher. She was used to being the one educating others, not being educated herself.
Her displeasure showed plainly on her face. She said flatly, “Don’t worry, Teacher Qiao. I know the kids in my class well. They’re very sensible. Next labor class, I’ll keep an eye on things and make sure they don’t bother Xiaxia.”
Qiao Lanshu noticed Teacher Qian’s expression and realized she was upset. She couldn’t help but reflect—had she, after three years of teaching, unconsciously adopted a lecturing tone when speaking?
But she was only trying, as a mother, to speak up for her child.
Leaving the primary school, Qiao Lanshu headed to the high school for work.
She had classes every morning, as she was both the homeroom teacher and a Chinese language instructor.
By the time she returned to the office, classes had already started. Near the door sat a female teacher in her thirties, who, upon seeing Qiao Lanshu, sneered, “Oh, Teacher Qiao is back, is she? It’s this late and you’re still so laid-back as a homeroom teacher? You’re the only one.”
This teacher was Wang Lanying, who had started working six or seven years before Qiao Lanshu.
She had previously competed with Qiao Lanshu for the position of sophomore homeroom teacher but lost. Ever since, she held a grudge against Qiao Lanshu.
In those days, being a high school homeroom teacher wasn’t very stressful. The students who made it to high school typically came from well-off families and had good manners; they barely needed managing.
There was no overtime or extra tutoring sessions. Homeroom teachers also received an extra subsidy of fifty yuan per month and had more opportunities for evaluations and recognition.
That Wang Lanying—a veteran teacher—was outperformed by a newcomer like Qiao Lanshu naturally rankled her.
So she constantly looked down on Qiao Lanshu, making snide remarks whenever she could.
Qiao Lanshu glanced at her and said, “I already told the director about it. Besides, I don’t have any classes in the morning.”
Wang Lanying shot Qiao Lanshu a glare and muttered, “Must be nice to have connections. Everything goes smoothly. Unlike me—I can’t even swap a class.”
Qiao Lanshu had never openly talked about her husband being a military commander—after all, a commander’s identity was sensitive and needed to be kept confidential.
So her colleagues only knew that her husband was an army officer, but not his rank.
Given Qiao Lanshu’s youth, those who knew her better guessed her husband might be a company or battalion commander. Those who didn’t know her even suspected she was divorced.
Wang Lanying’s husband worked in the education bureau, and she made no secret of it—she boasted about it everywhere, so no one dared to offend her.
Qiao Lanshu deliberately said, “Speaking of connections, isn’t your husband in the education bureau? That’s definitely a stronger backing.”
Wang Lanying snorted, knowing Qiao Lanshu was mocking her. “I can’t be bothered to argue with you,” she said, picking up a book to read.
Qiao Lanshu casually glanced at the book and noticed it was a textbook for graduate school entrance exams—the same kind that sat on her own desk.
Qiao Lanshu was at a loss for words.
Could it really be such a coincidence? Please don’t tell her that, in pursuing a graduate degree, Wang Lanying was also on the same path as her?
Their field of study was offered by only one university in the city, and competition was fierce. The program Qiao Lanshu wanted to apply to had only admitted five students last year.
She certainly hoped Wang Lanying wouldn’t end up competing for that same spot...
Meanwhile, in a first-grade classroom, Xiaxia was sitting in the front row, with classmates to her left, right, and behind her.
The girl behind her kept pushing her desk forward, crowding Xiaxia.
Xiaxia endured it for one class period, then turned around to look at her. “Li Taohua, could you pull your desk back a bit? It’s really cramped here.”
Li Taohua was tall and sturdy, with slightly dark skin. If Qiao Lanshu had been there, she would have recognized her as Wang Lanying’s daughter.
Wang Lanying hated Qiao Lanshu, and by extension, she hated Qiao Lanshu’s child too. Several times after school, she had even shouted insults at them.
So Li Taohua also hated Xiaxia.
What real hatred could children have? It was all fueled by adult grudges.
Li Taohua had never liked Xiaxia, and now, influenced by Wang Lanying, she disliked her even more.
She said to Xiaxia, “It’s my desk. You can’t tell me what to do.”
As she spoke, she pushed the table forward again. Xiaxia was naturally very thin, and her frail body was squeezed between the desks. Her deskmate whispered, "Xiaxia, maybe you should tell the teacher."
This Li Taohua was always picking on Xiaxia. During their last labor class, Li Taohua had even instructed a boy to put a caterpillar on Xiaxia's head. It was really annoying.
But Li Taohua was stockier and taller than the rest of them, and they were all pretty scared of her because they couldn't win a fight with her.
Xiaxia was gentle and quiet by nature, and she didn’t want to stir up trouble. After thinking it over, she decided to endure it for ten minutes.
When the bell rang for class, Teacher Qian entered the classroom holding a textbook. After they greeted the teacher, Xiaxia raised her hand.
Teacher Qian put down the textbook and, seeing Xiaxia’s arm in the air, immediately scowled and said, "Qin Qiaoxia, class has just started. Who are you going to tattle on now?"
Xiaxia felt confused by her words—it sounded as if she liked complaining all the time.
But since the semester started, she had never reported anything to Teacher Qian.
Xiaxia felt a little embarrassed by Teacher Qian’s comment. Although she didn’t think she was in the wrong, she was still only a seven-year-old child.
Still, she stood up and said earnestly to Teacher Qian, "Teacher, it’s because Li Taohua keeps pushing her desk forward, squishing me so much that I can barely sit."
Teacher Qian walked over and looked at their desks, indeed noticing that it was quite cramped.
The other students' desks were lined up in a row, but Li Taohua's desk stuck out, trapping Qin Qiaoxia inside.
Teacher Qian frowned slightly. However, she didn’t get angry at Li Taohua. Instead, she asked her, "Li Taohua, are you deliberately squeezing Qin Qiaoxia with your desk?"
Li Taohua knew that Teacher Qian wouldn’t really get mad at her, so she wasn’t flustered at all. She immediately replied, "Reporting to the teacher, I didn’t mean to. My side is narrow too. I had to move my desk forward a bit."
Teacher Qian glanced at her. Li Taohua was plump and sturdy, but her spot was actually quite spacious. No one behind her would dare to crowd her.
But because she was bigger than the other students, she needed more room—there wasn’t much to be done about that.
Teacher Qian knew that Li Taohua disliked Qin Qiaoxia. During the last labor class, Li Taohua had been the one to lead the prank against Qin Qiaoxia.
At the same time, Teacher Qian was also aware that Li Taohua’s mother, Wang Lanying, was a high school teacher, and her father was a deputy section chief in a department of the Education Bureau.
Given those connections, Teacher Qian certainly wouldn’t offend them.
Teacher Qian paused for a few seconds, then said, "Alright, move your desk back a bit. Don’t crowd the other students too much."
Li Taohua wasn’t scolded, and a smug grin spread across her face. She happily nodded and said, "Okay, Teacher, I’ll move it right away."
Then she shifted her desk back just a tiny amount—barely anything—and sat down.
Xiaxia turned to look at Li Taohua’s desk. She frowned slightly. After sitting back down, it still felt very cramped.
Moving it or not made no difference.
But Teacher Qian didn’t criticize Li Taohua. Instead, she said sternly to Xiaxia, "Xiaxia, classmates should be united and considerate of each other. Since you’re thin, it’s fine for you to have a bit less space. You need to make room for others and not be so petty about things, understand?"
Xiaxia pressed her lips together. She was quite unhappy hearing those words.
Despite her quiet, obedient appearance, inside she was rebellious and resistant.
She said stubbornly, "Why should I have to sit so cramped just because I’m thin? There are forty classmates in this class, and some are even skinnier than me. Why are their seats plenty wide? Teacher Qian, if Li Taohua is too fat, why don’t you just give her a separate seat?"
The moment she said that, Teacher Qian’s face darkened. This was the first time a student had talked back to her, and she was furious.
She slammed the ruler on the desk and said harshly, "Is this how you talk to your teacher? Hold out your hand!"
Xiaxia sat there, startled by the stern tone. She started to doubt whether she had really done something wrong.
Teacher Qian glared at her: "Hold it out!"
Xiaxia extended her left hand, and Teacher Qian struck her palm ten times until it was red and swollen. Only then did she tell Xiaxia to sit down and start the lesson.
Seeing that Teacher Qian actually resorted to hitting, the entire class stayed silent—so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. Satisfied with how subdued the children had become, Teacher Qian felt content.
Back in those days, punishing students with slaps was common. Teacher Qian often hit hands, so after being struck, Xiaxia didn’t come to hate her teacher.
But she still felt uncomfortable sitting. With Teacher Qian enabling her, Li Taohua became even bolder. She kept pushing her desk forward during class, and sometimes even deliberately jabbed Xiaxia in the back with her pencil.
When Xiaxia turned around, Li Taohua would say, "Oh, sorry about that. Your desk is just too close to mine. It was an accident."
But Xiaxia knew she was doing it on purpose.
After school at noon, her brother Qin Qiao'an came running over with his schoolbag on his back, arm-in-arm with a few classmates. He was going to pick up his sister and then find their older brother to eat together at the Public Security Bureau cafeteria.
His classmates asked him, "Qiao'an, going to find your sister again?"
Qiao'an said, "Obviously. Who else would give me lunch if I didn’t find my sister?"
Just then, Xiaxia was already standing at the school gate with her bag on. Qiao'an proudly said to his classmates, "Look, that’s my sister. Pretty, right?"
His classmate played along and said, "Pretty, pretty! Our sister is gorgeous!"
Qiao'an puffed out his chest and ran over.
He looked at Xiaxia and asked, "Xiaxia, what’s wrong? Why do you look so grumpy?"
Xiaxia sighed, shook her hand, and said, "My hand hurts so much."
Qiao'an reached for her hand. "What happened to your hand?"
Then he saw Xiaxia’s red and swollen palm. He immediately got angry. "Who hit you?"
Xiaxia said, "Teacher Qian did. She hit me ten times. It really hurts."
Luckily, it was her left hand that got hit; if it had been her right, she wouldn’t have been able to write all day.
When Qiao'an heard it was Teacher Qian, he felt a bit resigned. As they walked, he said, "Why did Teacher Qian hit you? You’re so well-behaved."
Xiaxia was serious about her studies and did well, much better than her two brothers, in fact.
A good student like that normally wouldn’t get hit.
So Xiaxia explained how Li Taohua had been squeezing her with her desk.
As soon as Qin Qiao'an heard that, he was furious.
