In the classroom, several teachers and some radish heads1 huddled around a rectangular table. Placed on the table was a pink, two-tiered fondant cake. It looked beautiful.
“Come, children, let’s sing the birthday song for Mengmeng all together, okay?”
The little radish heads echoed excitedly, “Okay!”
“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you~”
“Happy birthday to you~[2]”
How might one describe Rong Ting’s mood at this moment? He was regretting it, really regretting it. For some reason, this sort of atmosphere didn’t make him feel warm. On the contrary, there was an unspeakable embarrassment. He desperately wanted to escape from this situation. Yes, he shouldn’t stay here! He tried to control himself, but he could already feel the goosebumps on his arm now.
The most agonizing few minutes passed.
The lights in the classroom turned on again, and the birthday song that magically pierced the ears disappeared. Rong Ting quietly let out a sigh of relief.
He thought, he will be disappointing Empress Mother. He will never become like one of the children here.
The English teacher Helen laoshi was cutting the cake, giving each child a large piece. When it was Rong Ting’s turn, the teacher asked him what piece he wanted.
Looking cool, he replied, “Anything’s fine.”
This fondant cake truly was beautiful.
Helen laoshi couldn’t help but laugh, “You’re so aloof.”
Everyone knew that it was Mengmeng’s birthday. The little radish heads were very happy and felt that they should give gifts on birthdays. Some gave her the keychains from their backpacks, and some gave her their lollipop. As the saying went, it’s not the gift, but the thought that counts3. Mengmeng was also very happy. She was an extremely introverted child, but today, she had a happy and confident smile on her face.
Rong Ting saw them giving gifts, but he didn’t know what he could give. He had Yakult in his bag, but he didn’t want to take it out.
He didn’t want to give away the keychain, either; Empress Mother had given it to him.
After some thought, Rong Ting simply found Helen laoshi and asked her, “Laoshi, are there any calligraphy tools here? I mean, are there any brushes and Xuan paper4?”
The academy had calligraphy classes, and Helen laoshi was friends with the calligraphy teacher, so she quickly borrowed some brushes and Xuan paper.
Rong Ting didn’t like this brush very much, but he still stood at the table. He gave Mengmeng a side glance.
He wasn’t very familiar with her. To be exact, he’d never exchanged a word with her.
But he’d eaten her cake, after all, so he should prepare her a birthday gift.
Thinking to here, he took up his brush and wrote four characters on the Xuan paper–Bright and quick-witted.
YOU ARE READING
My Son is a Transmigrated Prince
RomanceMy Son is a Transmigrated Prince Song Yuan accidentally picked up a 5-year-old child. The child has bright eyes, chiseled features, and prideful demeanor. He referred to himself as "this prince" and his mannerism was wild, cool, and stuck up. "This...
