During Shang Zhitao's first year of high school, the class held a New Year's Day celebration, and the entertainment committee member organized performances. That year's rule was that everyone had to have an act, even if it meant playing a tree. The class had a lot of artistically inclined students, so the singing and dancing slots filled up immediately. The homeroom teacher said they shouldn't all sing and dance, or it would make the class look like it lacked talent. So one of the boys stayed up all night learning magic tricks. Shang Zhitao and He Yun looked at each other, both suddenly out of ideas. They volunteered to be a tree or hold up signs for other acts, but the classroom was too small. There was no room for a tree to stand around while people sang and danced. In the end, Shang Zhitao said to the entertainment committee member, "How about I do calligraphy? He Yun can grind the ink." "Sure! Once you're done, we'll mount it and hang it a...
When little Niannian was born, he let out one symbolic cry, then closed his eyes and went to sleep. Newborns sleep constantly, and there was nothing wrong with that. But when he slept, his tiny face scrunched up into a frown. Most newborns already looked a bit like monkeys, and his scrunched-up face made him look even worse. Liang Chengmin glanced at him and felt a sudden pang of worry. She whispered to Luan Mingrui, "Do you think he'll grow up ugly?" "Nonsense. How could my son be ugly?" Luan Mingrui looked at Niannian again. He really was rather ugly. Privately, Luan Mingrui felt a flicker of doubt too. What if he stayed this ugly? He checked himself in the mirror and decided there was nothing particularly wrong with his own face, and Liang Chengmin certainly didn't need checking. What a beautiful woman she was. In his heart, no one compared to her. Every other woman fell to the wayside. Liang Chengmin lay weak in her hospital bed, and every time she tu...