After a night’s rest, early the next morning a teacher came to distribute meal cards to them, then led them on a tour of the school and sorted out their class assignments.
Pingshiba Elementary School had six grades but only eight classes in total.
Each class had sixty to seventy students, some even over eighty, all from nearby villages.
Because the roads were so remote, many children started boarding at school by fifth or sixth grade.
When Qiao Nan and the others toured the classrooms, it happened to be break time.
Many children crowded the hallways, curiously watching them and chattering noisily like summer birds.
After walking around the school, they had a rough understanding of the situation there.
Because Pingshiba was extremely remote and economically underdeveloped, families who could afford it sent their children elsewhere for schooling.
Those left behind were mostly left-behind children from poorer families.
Some households needed every laborer they could get, so their children didn’t even finish the nine years of compulsory education before working in the fields with their grandparents.
The younger students were too small to do much work, so their families were still willing to send them to school.
But by fifth and sixth grade, when the kids were older and able to help out, many parents no longer wanted to send them.
In some years, there weren’t even enough students to form a single class.
As for teachers, the situation was even worse.
Volunteer teachers came every year but never stayed.
Year after year they recruited teachers but were always short-staffed.
Only four or five older local teachers remained permanently.
Students like Qiao Nan, who were non-education majors doing short-term volunteer teaching, would normally be assistants to formal teachers elsewhere to gain experience.
But at Pingshiba Elementary, after just three days of training, they were thrown directly into teaching.
Qiao Nan was assigned to the fifth grade, Class One.
In fact, there was only one fifth-grade class with just over thirty students.
The homeroom teacher was a thin, tall man in his sixties.
His attitude wasn’t very warm, but he was reasonably responsible in guiding Qiao Nan.
“This will be your desk from now on. The lesson plans left by other teachers are in that cabinet; you can refer to them while preparing your classes.”
The so-called desk was just a wooden table less than a meter long, its worn surface covered with scratches.
Besides the stacked textbooks, there was only an old computer that looked like it had seen better days.
Qiao Nan thanked him and sat down to carefully study the lesson plans.
Although he had no teaching experience, Qiao Nan was quick to learn and meticulous in preparation.
He soon adapted from stumbling along to teaching smoothly and confidently.
Due to the teacher shortage, he was responsible alone for English, Moral and Social Studies, and Art classes.
With the limited faculty and the teachers’ capabilities, courses like Art and Science mostly involved students self-studying or engaging in free activities.
Since Qiao Nan’s major was relevant, he thought it over and bought several boxes of A4 paper, pencils, paint, and other supplies at the county bookstore with his own money.
From then on, he started teaching the students how to draw in Art class.
He had a good temper and could paint, so he quickly became popular with the students.
In just over a month, he was already their favorite teacher.
One day after class, when Qiao Nan was returning to the office, he ran into Teacher Zhang from the sixth grade.
Seeing Qiao Nan carrying a plastic bucket with clothes splattered in colorful paint, Zhang teased, “Teacher Xiao Qiao, class is over? How can you still wear clothes like that? I heard some of those shirts cost thousands. This one you’re wearing is worth two or three months’ salary for us. Even if your family’s rich, you can’t just waste money like that.”
Zhang had always looked out for him, and there was no real malice, but his tone had a hint of sourness and was somewhat awkward.
Qiao Nan was taken aback for a moment.
“Who told you that?”
Zhang laughed, “I recognize the brand. Everyone says it’s expensive.”
Qiao Nan had just grabbed the clothes casually before leaving home.
Zhang hadn’t seen him wear it before but suddenly mentioned it today, obviously having heard something.
Qiao Nan pursed his lips and shook his head with a smile.
“It’s not that expensive. I got three shirts on Taobao for a hundred yuan. If it were really that pricey, I wouldn’t be wearing this rag.”
Hearing this, Zhang’s expression softened.
“I just figured you didn’t seem like the wasteful type.”
After parting ways with Zhang, Qiao Nan washed the paintbrushes clean and hung them to dry before heading back to the dormitory.
He took off the paint-stained clothes, changed into a clean T-shirt, and carried the small basin to the bathroom to wash his clothes.
Unexpectedly, You Shuhang was there too.
Seeing Qiao Nan, he subtly rolled his eyes, moved over to the faucet on the right, putting distance between them.
Since the first day on the train, You Shuhang had been snide and passive-aggressive toward him.
Qiao Nan knew this well, so he deliberately went to the faucet next to him and filled water, scrubbing carefully at the stains on his clothes.
Unable to hold back, You Shuhang sneered, “Shouldn’t a young master like you just throw away a shirt when it gets dirty? Why are you washing it yourself?”
Qiao Nan glanced sideways at him without anger and asked, “If I don’t wash it, will you?”
You Shuhang was speechless, then snapped back sharply, “Hah, nobody here treats you like a young master to serve you.”
“Exactly, no one here treats me like a young master, except you, who’s always calling me that.”
Qiao Nan looked at him seriously.
“You’re making it easy for people to misunderstand.”
“You!”
You Shuhang’s face turned red with anger.
“We’re here to teach, not to compete over family background. If you want to educate others, start by setting your own attitude straight. If you can’t even teach yourself properly, how can you teach the students? Don’t you agree?”
Qiao Nan stared at him calmly.
The calmer Qiao Nan was, the redder You Shuhang’s face became.
Defeated in this silent standoff, You Shuhang grabbed his still-dirty clothes and fled.
Qiao Nan went back to washing.
The paint stains were hard to remove, and he scrubbed a long time before they were clean.
After hanging the clothes to dry, he picked up his easel and sketchpad and went to paint outdoors around the school.
It was already past six in the evening, but southern summer days were long, and the sky was still as bright as daylight.
The outskirts of the county were vast fields, and at the horizon where fields met sky, the orange-red sunset clouds spread out in brilliant splendor.
Qiao Nan’s painting skills had matured.
He no longer needed to sketch outlines first.
He layered oil paints directly, capturing the vast fields, fragrant fruit trees, and stunning sunset in his canvas.
When the last stroke was finished, a tall silhouette appeared in the middle of the field.
He tapped the tip of his brush against the faceless figure and whispered, “If you had contacted me before I went to sleep, I wouldn’t be mad.”
When he came to Dongzhao, he deliberately didn’t tell Pei Xu.
But he didn’t hide his whereabouts; he kept updating his status on Weibo.
For a month and a half, Pei Xu messaged him every day, but Qiao Nan, still angry before, had been ignoring him somewhat.
As a result, Pei Xu hadn’t messaged him for three days now.
Qiao Nan was a little annoyed.
That was giving up too easily!
He took a photo of his new painting and posted it on Weibo, then packed up his art supplies and headed back to the dormitory under the fading sunset glow.
***
Pei Xu had been working overtime day and night for a week.
“Are all the procedures done?”
Zhao Bo handed him some documents.
“Everything’s been notarized.”
Pei Xu flipped through them casually, put them into a brown paper bag, then took out his plane ticket and ID.
“Now it’s up to you. Call me if there’s any problem.”
Zhao Bo agreed, then went downstairs with him and drove him to the airport.
Pei Xu’s first destination was Yanjing.
When Qiao Shi’an came home from work and saw someone sitting in the living room, his smiling face immediately turned grim.
The man he had once admired and valued so much now looked alien, as if his eyes and nose were no longer familiar.
“What are you doing here?”
Though he showed no welcome, Pei Xu still politely greeted him, “There were some procedures left incomplete before, so I didn’t mention it. Now everything’s been notarized. Uncle and Auntie should have thought about my relationship with Qiao Nan during this time. I want you all to see how serious I am.”
He pushed forward the folder he was carrying.
Qiao Shi’an frowned and glanced at the paper bag but didn’t take it.
It was Zhou Ruo who hesitated a moment before taking it.
After seeing the contents, she showed a look of surprise.
“When did you do this?”
“On the day I confessed to you all.”
Qiao Shi’an noticed her expression and took the folder, flipping through it.
After a moment, he sneered coldly, “So what if you risked everything? He’s my only son. From now on, the entire Qiao family belongs to him.”
“But no one will love him more than I do.”
Pei Xu said firmly.
Qiao Shi’an glared at him but said nothing.
What Pei Xu held were all of Pei Xu’s assets and more than half of Xunan Technology.
Qiao Nan might not fully understand their value, but Qiao Shi’an did.
As a businessman, he knew better than anyone what a company built from the ground up meant to its founder.
Now thinking back, the name “Xunan” had already revealed Pei Xu’s ambitions from the start, but they had been too trusting to consider other possibilities.
“Say whatever you want, I won’t agree.”
Qiao Shi’an threw the folder back onto the table and went upstairs.
Pei Xu’s expression remained unchanged.
He had expected Qiao Shi’an’s reaction.
He turned to Zhou Ruo and said, “Nan Nan has been in Dongzhao for a month and a half. He’s still mad at me and barely replies to messages. I’ve checked on the situation there; conditions are tough—worse than Gui Bei Fengxi Village.”
Zhou Ruo’s face showed some worry.
Pei Xu continued, “I booked a flight to Dongzhao this afternoon.”
Zhou Ruo raised her eyes to look at him, eyes slightly narrowed.
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Just thought you should know.”
Pei Xu repacked the documents into the brown bag.
“Please keep these for Nan Nan for now.”
After speaking, he stood, bowed slightly to Zhou Ruo, and left.
Her expression was complicated but she didn’t stop him.
Outside the villa, Pei Xu’s lips curved into a smile.
Zhou Ruo’s attitude had clearly softened.
Maybe soon, he could openly go and bring Qiao Nan home.
Checking the time on his phone, Pei Xu opened his chat with Qiao Nan and gently touched his avatar.
Then he took a taxi to the airport.
Qiao Nan carried his sketchpad and slowly walked toward the school.
Dusk chased him from behind, the line between day and night passing over his head and moving forward.
Deep blue cloaked him, blurring the path ahead.
The school wasn’t far.
He switched on his phone’s flashlight to see, but noticed a man standing by the school gate.
Wearing a dress shirt and slacks, tall and upright, vaguely familiar.
Qiao Nan paused, his heartbeat quickening.
The figure looked a bit like Pei Xu, but reason told him Pei Xu couldn’t possibly be here.
Yet a tiny spark of hope flickered in his heart—maybe, just maybe, Pei Xu had really come.
Hoping it was him but fearing it wasn’t, his steps involuntarily slowed.
He raised his phone higher, trying to see the shadow clearly in the night.
At the school gate, Pei Xu saw his figure, smiled, and called out, “Nan Nan.”