The classroom fell dead silent. Aside from Wen Tun’s loud bawling, five other pairs of eyes turned in unison to lock onto Rong Sui. Rong Sui stood there looking intensely embarrassed, utterly baffled as to why this kid would just burst into tears out of nowhere. He extended a hand, wanting to comfort him, but the closer he got, the louder Wen Tun wailed, leaving him completely at a loss for a moment.

Long Ya gave him a sinister glare. Standing up, he scooped Wen Tun up by the collar and moved him to a seat further inside. He then plopped his own bottom down into Wen Tun’s original seat. Without uttering a word to Rong Sui, he simply propped himself up on the desk and buried his face in his arms to sleep.

Separated from the source of his terror, Wen Tun sniffled, let out a tearful hiccup, and kept his eyes wide open as his crying gradually subsided.

“Coward!”

Bi Fang sat down in the row behind Long Ya. His fingers twitched with mischief as he reached out to tug at Wen Tun’s little topknot, concurrently giving Rong Sui a provocative look and sticking his tongue out at him.

Rong Sui: “…”

While he hadn’t exactly expected a pack of little angels in a kindergarten, these cubs were a bit too feral, weren’t they?

Bai Tu, who had been hiding at the back, gave a dry laugh and stepped forward to diffuse the awkward tension. “Uh… that… Wen Tun is just a bit shy around strangers.”

Exhausted, Rong Sui waved his hand dismissively, not wanting to dwell on it. “Are we holding classes this morning?”

Bai Tu shook his head like a rattle. “No need to rush. You should get familiar with the environment first. We’ve been short on teachers for quite a while, so delaying classes for a little bit won’t hurt.”

Rong Sui glanced back at the cubs who had settled into their respective seats. Sensing that they wouldn’t listen even if he did try to teach them now, he instructed them not to wander off and followed Bai Tu to the office to get a handle on things first.

Inside the office, Bai Tu hauled out piles of school records and placed them on the desk. Rong Sui casually picked up a booklet to flip through, only to discover that the kindergarten actually had a remarkably long history, dating back to before the founding of the country. According to the school chronicles, the predecessor of Mountain and Sea Kindergarten was a private school during the Republican era. After the founding of the modern state, it was requisitioned and gradually evolved into the current kindergarten.

As Rong Sui flipped through several more volumes of school history, the corners of his mouth couldn’t help but twitch. Strictly speaking, the Mountain and Sea Kindergarten did have a bit of historical heritage; he just couldn’t fathom how it had degenerated into its current ghostly state. No wonder he had found the buildings so dilapidated yet the grounds so spacious when he walked in—it was all left over from the old days.

Bai Tu dusted off a stack of student records and handed them over. “These are the profiles of the children currently enrolled.”

He looked rather self-conscious, his eyes constantly darting sideways to monitor Rong Sui’s expression as he spoke. “Our school only has five children left in total. None of them have parents; they were all taken in by the principal.”

To his surprise, even the remaining five kids were orphans taken in out of charity—the situation was far worse than he had imagined. Suppressing the urge to walk out right then and there, Rong Sui asked with great difficulty, “Then the expenses for the school…”

Bai Tu interjected hurriedly, “They are all personally subsidized by the principal.” He flushed red with shame as he added, “We all rely entirely on the principal to support us.”

“…Then the principal is truly noble.” Rong Sui didn’t know what expression to make anymore; this kindergarten never failed to deliver “surprises.” He could only state blankly, “But this isn’t a sustainable long-term solution, is it?” Without a source of revenue, even the principal’s savings would run out one day.

“Yeah. The principal is getting old, and he’s been drawing from his past savings, which are on the verge of running out…” His expression grew despondent, making him look like a drooping, dejected rabbit who wanted nothing more than to curl up into a ball of gloom.

However, after less than a minute of brooding, he suddenly realized it wasn’t a good idea to air such grievances in front of a new colleague. Forcing a smile back onto his face, he said, “But don’t worry! We can still afford your salary. If you ever feel the salary is too low, I can split half of mine with you anyway, since I don’t really have anything to spend it on…”

Just listen to this level of awareness! This spirit of self-sacrifice! Rong Sui was deeply moved by him. He lightly pressed a hand onto Bai Tu’s shoulder to calm him down. “That won’t be necessary. I think the compensation package here is actually quite reasonable.”

Bai Tu’s eyes widened with excitement. “Really? Does that mean you agree to stay?”

Rong Sui: “…………” He had accidentally talked himself into a corner.

Awkwardly dodging the other’s fervent gaze, Rong Sui pondered for a moment. He still didn’t give a definitive answer immediately, only stating, “I will give it serious consideration.”

Although the selflessness of the principal and Bai Tu was deeply touching, and the little cubs looked incredibly pitiful, he was ultimately here to find a job. He still needed to put food on the table and make a living; he couldn’t just let his emotions take over and agree on a whim.

Hearing this, Bai Tu looked a bit disappointed, but he quickly perked up again. Since Rong Sui hadn’t rejected him outright, it meant there was still hope. The kindergarten had been suspended for over two months. During that time, he had recruited two other teachers, but the moment they saw the environment, they turned around and left without a second word. Only Rong Sui was still willing to consider it. Therefore, Bai Tu secretly cheered himself on—he had to find a way to keep this new colleague!

Steering away from this temporarily unresolved topic, Bai Tu began introducing the only five students in the kindergarten to Rong Sui.

All five children had been picked up from the streets by the principal. Because they were of similar ages, they shared the closest bond.

The tall boy with the long bangs was Long Ya; he possessed a somewhat brooding personality and rarely spoke. The one with a head of reddish-brown curls was Bi Fang. Bai Tu pointed at Bi Fang’s passport-sized photo and muttered angrily, “He’s the one who loves fighting the most in the entire school. He’s bullied everyone except Baize.”

“This one must be Baize, right?” Rong Sui moved his finger, pointing at the shyly smiling child next to Bi Fang. The boy was a tiny bit shorter than Bi Fang, with a delicate V-shaped face, large eyes, and long eyelashes. He looked clean, fair, and exceptionally gentle and well-behaved.

Bai Tu nodded. “Normally, Baize and Wen Tun are the most obedient.” Baize was quiet by nature, while Wen Tun was blind and a bit slow-witted, so he always lagged a half-beat behind everyone else.

That much was easily discernible; the cubs’ personalities were quite distinct. His gaze landed on the final profile. “Is this one Yin Zhuzhi?” He still remembered the name Bi Fang had shouted earlier.

Bai Tu replied, “Yin Zhuzhi was the first to arrive, and he’s also the oldest. He doesn’t like to talk much. But don’t let his quiet demeanor fool you; he actually has quite a temper. Even Bi Fang has been beaten to tears by him a few times. He’s basically the boss among the kids.”

Rong Sui nodded, committing the details of the cubs to memory. As the two were talking, the shrill ring of the dismissal bell echoed outside, followed by several tender shouts from the classroom downstairs. Bai Tu hurried over to the window to take a look, then turned to Rong Sui. “Class is over, time for lunch. Teacher Rong hasn’t eaten yet, right? Let’s head over to the cafeteria together.”

Rong Sui put down the booklets and walked downstairs with him.

The cubs had already run out on their own, but they hadn’t wandered far. They stood not too far from the classroom, looking as though they were waiting for Bai Tu to take them to eat.

Only when Bai Tu walked down and waved at them did they merrily sprint toward the cafeteria.

Bi Fang and Baize ran right at the front, with Long Ya a step behind because he was dragging a slow-moving Wen Tun behind him. Yin Zhuzhi trailed unhurriedly at the very back.

Rong Sui noticed his swinging little ponytail, and his gaze inadvertently lingered on the boy. Yin Zhuzhi seemed to detect his stare; he turned his head to give him a cold glare before turning away expressionlessly.

“…” Rong Sui thought to himself, this little cub already knows how to act cool at such a young age, quite remarkable.

Following Bai Tu into the cafeteria, the cubs were already seated, holding their bowls and eating. The teachers ate at a separate table. Rong Sui fell silent as he stared at the plate of stir-fried shredded potatoes with vinegar and the bowl of tomato egg drop soup laid out on their table.

Bai Tu looked quite happy, proactively ladling a bowl of hot soup for Rong Sui. “Have some soup first.”

Rong Sui glanced over at the adjacent table. In a white porcelain bowl in the center sat five hard-boiled eggs. Each of the cubs held a bowl of porridge—it wasn’t plain white porridge, as shreds of meat and vegetable leaves were faintly visible, but even so, it was a very meager meal.

Even during the poorest days of Rong Sui’s childhood, they had at least been able to afford large chunks of meat.

Oblivious to his expression, Bai Tu happily slurped his soup, narrowing his eyes in satisfaction as he mumbled around a mouthful, “Eat more of the egg. These are laid by the old hens raised by Auntie Wang; we only get to eat them once a week.”

Rong Sui withdrew his gaze, picked up his soup bowl, and took a sip. It had only a faint saltiness and could hardly be called delicious, but he still smiled and said, “Mm, it’s very good. Home-raised local eggs taste much better than the commercial ones sold outside.”

Bai Tu chuckled and scooped a large chunk of egg from the soup into Rong Sui’s bowl.

Rong Sui used the window of lowering his head to drink soup to mask the emotions in his eyes. The adults and children in this kindergarten were living too miserably. He couldn’t help but suspect whether Bai Tu wasn’t actually as naive as he appeared, but was deliberately using a pity play to make him stay.

Finishing the meal with a complicated heart, they carried their trays over to the dish return window for Auntie Wang to reclaim and wash. The cubs at the next table happened to finish eating at the same time. Bai Tu grabbed some tissues to wipe the mouths of Baize and Wen Tun clean, then carried their trays over to put them away.

Rong Sui wanted to follow his lead and tend to the other three cubs. However, Bi Fang gave a snort, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and bolted. Rong Sui looked toward Long Ya, who gave him a sullen glare and wiped his own face clean.

The only one left, Yin Zhuzhi, methodically wiped his mouth, carried his tray over to put it away, and walked off with his ponytail swaying, completely ignoring Rong Sui’s existence throughout the entire process.

Rong Sui: “…………”

Returning to his side, Bai Tu saw his expression, scratched his head, and laughed. “I forgot to mention, those three are usually very independent when eating and don’t need a teacher’s care.”

Rong Sui carried the tray Bi Fang had left behind to put it away before leaving with him. After lunch came naptime, so they headed toward the dormitory building.

Along the way, Rong Sui remembered the question that had been lingering in his mind since earlier, unable to resist asking, “Given the kindergarten’s situation, why haven’t you applied for government subsidies?”

Public kindergartens received government subsidies every year. Rong Sui wasn’t entirely clear on the specific application metrics, but he held a basic understanding. If they could secure it, it would go a long way toward solving the kindergarten’s pressing financial crisis. He couldn’t wrap his head around why, when they were on the verge of starvation, Bai Tu hadn’t applied for government aid—or had they applied but already spent it all?

Rong Sui looked at Bai Tu in confusion, only to see Bai Tu’s face go entirely blank as he stared back at him. “What subsidies?”

Rong Sui: “…?”

“You don’t seriously not know about this, do you?” Rong Sui’s expression turned rather indescribable, looking at Bai Tu as if looking at a complete simpleton. “Public kindergartens can apply for government subsidies every year, provided they submit the paperwork as required. The funds allocated can at least be used to renovate the school facilities and hire a few more teachers.”

Bai Tu remained dazed. “Can we apply too?”

Rong Sui failed to comprehend his logic. “Isn’t the kindergarten public? Why wouldn’t you be able to apply?”

Bai Tu spun around in place twice, mumbling something incoherent under his breath. After a long moment of erratic behavior, he excitedly grabbed Rong Sui’s hands. “Thank you so much! I always assumed that organizations like ours were merely registered for the record with the Bureau of Education. I had no idea there were subsidies to collect. This is simply wonderful!”

Rong Sui: “???”

“Wait, what do you mean by ‘organizations like ours’?” Rong Sui felt his wording was bizarre, but having suddenly received tidings of a windfall, Bai Tu was already too overjoyed to know what to do with himself. He excitedly dragged Rong Sui toward the dormitory. “Let’s head back to the dorms first. I need to check what materials we need to prepare.”

“…” Pulled along by a tremendous force, Rong Sui had no choice but to sprint back to the dorms with him.

After lunch came naptime, which the cubs had already formed a habit of observing. By the time Rong Sui and Bai Tu reached the dormitory, they had all climbed onto their respective bunks and were lying down obediently.

The dormitory was a four-person room with bunk beds. Bi Fang, Baize, Long Ya, and Wen Tun shared one room, while Yin Zhuzhi stayed in another room by himself. Suppressing his excitement, Bai Tu ensured they were all asleep before leading Rong Sui back to his own quarters, where he eagerly fired up his computer.

His computer was an ancient desktop unit. He booted it up somewhat clumsily and searched for a good while before finally locating the website for the W City Bureau of Education.

Watching him stare wide-eyed at the screen, looking as though he wanted to physically dive into the computer to read the subsidy policy documents, Rong Sui’s lips curved into a faint smile. He didn’t enter the room, choosing instead to stand by the doorway. “My luggage is still over at my classmate’s place. I’ll use the naptime interval to go grab it. When I get back, can I share this room with you?”

Bai Tu’s mind was entirely consumed by the subsidy. Hearing this, he instinctively blurted out an assent. It was only after the other man had left that it suddenly clicked—Rong Sui’s words meant he was willing to stay?!

He jumped up and down in place with joy, letting out small squeals of delight. He was so ecstatic that he even failed to control his short, round tail, which popped out and twitched violently with excitement.

Rong Sui retrieved his suitcase from his classmate’s place and took Line 2 back to the kindergarten.

His agreement to stay had been driven largely by impulse, but now that he had cooled down, he harbored no regrets. The kindergarten environment was indeed dreadful, but the offered salary and benefits were sufficient to sustain him. The faces of the little cubs flashed through Rong Sui’s mind, causing him to smile involuntarily. Perhaps he had been influenced by the teachers and peers back in his department; although he didn’t personally possess a lofty sense of martyrdom toward the teaching profession, now that he was in the thick of it, he couldn’t help but want to lend a hand wherever he could.

By the time he returned, naptime had already concluded. The cubs were all gathered in the classroom. Lacking a teacher to conduct lessons, Bai Tu was using an ancient television set to play cartoons for them.

Peering through the window, Rong Sui saw the cubs staring intently at the screen, with only Yin Zhuzhi sitting at the very back, cupping his face in his hands as his mind wandered.

Rong Sui smiled from the bottom of his heart and softly called Bai Tu out.

Securing the keys, he went to the dormitory to unpack his luggage. Rong Sui then set aside time to meticulously draft his lesson plans, mapping out a basic outline for future curricula. After dinner, he discussed the arrangements further with Bai Tu. Once everything was finalized, he washed up briefly and went to bed early.

After a grueling day of running around, Rong Sui was utterly exhausted and fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

He was typically a sound sleeper, yet for some unknown reason, he found himself trapped in a succession of bizarre, surreal dreams. His eyeballs rolled rapidly beneath his eyelids as he knitted his brows restlessly, feeling the surrounding air grow so stiflingly hot that it became difficult to breathe.

After wrestling with the nightmare for a long while, he snapped his eyes open and bolted upright, gasping for air as he pressed a hand to his sweat-drenched forehead.

Inside the pitch-black dormitory, the occasional sound of teeth grinding drifted over from the opposite bunk. Rong Sui rubbed his temples and turned around casually, only to instantly freeze solid—

In the dark, shadowed room, a pair of glowing eyes was staring at him unblinkingly. There was no telling how long they had been watching him from that position. A dense wave of goosebumps erupted across his back, and every hair on Rong Sui’s body stood on end as he locked eyes with the unknown entity in the darkness, refusing to blink.

The golden-yellow vertical slits burned brightly in the dark, resembling the eyes of a predatory beast. Yet Rong Sui had never encountered any creature possessing irises of such a pure, unblemished golden hue. Swallowing hard against his nerves, he stealthily slipped his hand beneath his pillow to grope for his phone.

The moment his fingers brushed against the familiar casing, Rong Sui let out a quiet sigh of relief and swiftly illuminated the phone screen, directing the beam toward the window—

Yet the pool of light revealed absolutely nothing. There was no mysterious creature, nor any golden eyes.

It was as though everything that had just transpired was merely a fleeting, half-woken dream.