Kindergarten in Progress 02

“Whoa! This one glows!”

“I want to see! Me too!”

In the center of the classroom, Lin Wanwan was completely surrounded by a gaggle of children. She was showing off her winged backpack with a smug expression, looking every bit like a little princess basking in the spotlight.

“Line up, everyone! You all get a turn to touch it!”

Lin Wanwan barked out orders with the authority of a seasoned leader; she had already established herself as the “big sister” of this bunch of brats.

Chen Zhi looked away and pulled a tiny comic book, barely the size of his palm, from his bag. This was his only source of spiritual sustenance in kindergarten.

As long as I can survive today.

As long as I pretend to be a mute.

Then no one will bother me.

Chen Zhi silently made this vow to himself.

However, fate always loves to give him a kick right when he wants to just lay low and do nothing.

A little boy wearing overalls and sporting a bowl cut suddenly appeared in front of his desk.

The kid was clutching an Ultraman toy that had been chewed halfway to pieces. His face was a messy smear of snot and tears, and he was staring at Chen Zhi with a look of profound indignation.

It was the same chubby kid who had been rolling around on the ground at the entrance earlier.

Chen Zhi didn’t even look up, continuing to flip through his comic.

Slap.

A chubby little hand, covered in saliva and dust, slammed onto Chen Zhi’s desk.

“Were you laughing at me just now?”

The chubby kid sucked back a glob of snot. His voice was thick with a sob, yet he was trying his hardest to look fierce.

Chen Zhi sighed.

He closed his book and slowly looked up.

Staring at the little brat who could barely speak a coherent sentence, Chen Zhi suddenly felt that this long kindergarten career might be even more grueling than he had imagined.

“I wasn’t laughing at you,” Chen Zhi said calmly, as if stating an objective fact.

“I just felt that your rolling technique earlier lacked core strength. Your midsection lacked support, which caused your rolling radius to be too large, making it very easy for you to hit the trash can next to you.”

The chubby kid froze.

He blinked his tiny eyes, which were squeezed into slits by his chubby cheeks. His brain was clearly unable to process such a complex flow of information.

Core strength?

Midsection support?

Rolling radius?

He recognized the individual words, but together, they sounded like an alien language.

The chubby kid stood there with his mouth agape, a snot bubble expanding and contracting with his breath. The tough words he had prepared were all stuck in his throat.

Just then, the teacher at the front of the room clapped her hands, signaling for silence.

“Alright, children! Everyone go back to your seats! We’re going to start roll call!”

The kid was startled by the shout and instinctively looked for a place to sit.

But as he looked around, he realized all the other empty seats were taken, leaving only the small chair next to Chen Zhi.

The chubby kid hesitated for a moment but eventually succumbed to his fear of the teacher and plopped down next to Chen Zhi.

He leaned over, casting a wary yet curious glance at his strange seatmate.

“Hey...”

The chubby kid lowered his voice, leaning in cautiously.

“Core strength... what does it taste like? Is it yummy?”

Chen Zhi turned his head and looked at the wide, inquisitive face. His lip twitched slightly.

He reached out and pointed toward the pull-up bars on the playground outside the window.

“When you can hang from those for ten minutes without falling off, you’ll know what it tastes like.”

The chubby kid nodded as if he understood, and a glimmer of longing for a new delicacy appeared in his eyes as he stared out the window.

“Chen Zhi!”

The teacher called out his name.

Chen Zhi slowly raised his right hand.

“Present.”

His voice wasn’t loud, carrying a distinct air of laziness.

The teacher glanced at the boy sitting in the corner—his aura was strikingly different from the others. A flicker of surprise crossed her eyes, but she quickly moved on to the next name.

“Lin Wanwan!”

“Here—!”

Lin Wanwan’s voice was bursting with energy.

She threw both hands high into the air and practically bounced out of her chair. The pink bunny hair clips on her head shook wildly with the movement.

“Teacher! I’m here! I’m Lin Wanwan! I’m three and a half years old! I like singing, dancing, and telling stories! My dream is to be a superstar!”

The entire class went silent for a second.

Then, a burst of enthusiastic applause erupted.

Even the children who had been sobbing were caught up in her infectious energy, staring wide-eyed at this ultimate social butterfly.

The teacher was amused and said with a smile, “Lin Wanwan is such a lively girl! Well then, for our self-introduction session later, how about you go first?”

“Okay!”

Lin Wanwan agreed readily. She then turned around and, from across the classroom, pulled a face and stuck her tongue out at Chen Zhi.

Her expression clearly said: See how amazing I am?

Chen Zhi silently propped his book up, hiding his face behind it.

He didn't know this attention-seeker.

Not at all.

“Alright, next we have...”

The teacher’s gaze landed on the chubby kid sitting next to Chen Zhi.

“Li Zihan.”

Hearing his name, the chubby kid jerked as if he’d been hit by an electric shock and bolted upright.

But he rose too quickly, and with his mind still muddled by the “core strength” puzzle, his foot slipped. He lunged forward head-first.

Thud!

A dull sound echoed.

Young Li Zihan landed face-first, performing a perfect "Face-plant into the Dust" for the entire class.

The room fell into a deathly silence once more.

A few seconds later...

“Waaaaah—!”

An earth-shattering wail erupted, even more pathetic than his performance at the front gate.

Chen Zhi closed his eyes in agony, burying his head in his arms.

What a disaster.

This isn't a kindergarten.

This is a madhouse.

Outside, the cicadas continued their noisy chirping. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled patterns on the desks.

Slumped over his desk, Chen Zhi listened to the rising and falling sounds of crying, laughing, and screaming. His desire to "retire" from life grew stronger than ever.

What he didn't know was that this chaotic day was only the beginning.

In this tiny classroom filled with the scent of snot, tears, and sweet milk, the gears of fate hadn't just started turning—they had jammed a little, letting out a grinding, mechanical screech.

“Stop crying.”

Chen Zhi finally reached his limit. He pulled an unopened can of Wangzai sweet milk from his desk and slammed it down in front of Li Zihan.

“Drink this.”

“And shut your mouth.”

The crying stopped instantly.

Li Zihan looked at the red tin can through tear-blurred eyes, then looked up at Chen Zhi’s expressionless face.

He sniffled, reached out with trembling hands, and hugged the can of milk.

“Big Brother...”

Li Zihan choked out, his eyes suddenly filled with gratitude and hero-worship.

“You’re such a good person.”

Chen Zhi’s mouth twitched.

Great.

It seemed he’d been latched onto by something troublesome.

He turned to look out the window. The sun was bright, and the breeze was gentle.

Yet his long prison sentence had only been going for thirty minutes.

Chen Zhi looked at the red flag fluttering on the playground, silently calculating how many seconds were left until school let out.

Every second was a torment.

Just then, the teacher clapped her hands again, a mysterious, playful smile appearing on her face.

“Alright, children! Now that everyone has met their new friends...”

“It’s time for our first game!”

“The penalty for the game is that whoever loses has to go up on stage and perform!”

Chen Zhi’s heart skipped a beat.

A sense of impending doom welled up inside him.

He snapped his head up, only to lock eyes with Lin Wanwan’s wide, sparkling eyes, which were brimming with anticipation.

Her gaze clearly said: Zhizhi, come and play with me!

Chen Zhi felt a chill run down his spine and instinctively gripped the edge of the table.

This girl… she was definitely up to no good.