Everyone's been reborn, so who would bother finding a wife on their own?

Chapter 3 Little Flower

The next morning, when Song Huan was dragged out of bed by her mother, she had only one thought in her mind.

Why do three-year-olds have to get up so early?

College students sleep until noon, so what's wrong with a three-year-old kid sleeping a little later?

He squinted while brushing his teeth, squinted while eating breakfast, and squinted while being led to kindergarten by his mother.

Song Huan felt extremely sleepy, perhaps because her mind and body were not in sync.

"Get your act together."

Zhang Xuejuan shook his hand, feeling like she almost shook his soul out of his body. "Weren't you going to play with your friends today?"

Song Huan then came to her senses a little more.

That's right, Xiao Yunqing.

The kindergarten teacher was about to carry him inside, but he, carrying his backpack, skipped the teacher and wobbled inside.

The teacher was left completely bewildered.

At the classroom door, Song Huan spotted Xiao Yunqing immediately.

She was still sitting in that corner by the window, but today was a little different.

She had a small flower pinned to her chest.

It's pink, made of folded paper, and very delicately folded, with petals layered one by one, just like a real flower.

Song Huan walked over, and just as she was about to speak, she heard what was on her mind.

[He's here! He's here! He's here!]

Did he see the flowers?

Should I speak first?

No, I can't speak first!

Song Huan almost burst out laughing.

That's quite a display of inner monologue!

Moreover, after yesterday, Xiao Yunqing's attitude towards him wasn't as cold as he had imagined, at least not in his heart.

"Good morning." He sat down next to her.

Xiao Yunqing turned her head to the side and softly hummed in agreement.

[Did he see the flowers?!]

Song Huan suppressed a laugh, deliberately avoiding looking at the flower on her chest, and asked, "Did you sleep well last night?"

[Ugh, why isn't he looking at the flowers?!]

"It's alright," Xiao Yunqing said, but her eyes kept glancing at her chest.

[Look, look, look! My little flower is so pretty!]

Song Huan couldn't help but laugh, then looked down at the flower: "Huh, what's this?"

Xiao Yunqing's eyes lit up for a moment, but her expression remained cold: "Oh, this? My mom folded it this morning."

[My mom folded it! My mom folded it! Isn't it beautiful? Isn't it beautiful!]

"It's so beautiful." Song Huan leaned closer. "Your mom has such skillful hands."

Xiao Yunqing's ears turned red.

[He said it looks good!!!]

"Do you like it?" she asked, her tone indifferent.

"I like it."

Xiao Yunqing was silent for two seconds, and then...

She took the flower off her chest and pinned it to Song Huan's clothes.

Song Huan was stunned.

After Xiao Yunqing finished taking off the flowers, her face was already flushed red to the roots of her neck, but she tried to remain calm: "May I borrow them and take a look?"

[Let me borrow it! It's not a gift for you!]

[But you can watch a little longer!]

[You have to return it to me after you've finished reading it!]

Song Huan looked down at the little pink flower on her chest, then glanced at the girl next to her who was pretending to look out the window, and suddenly felt...

This three-year-old girl is even more capable than those twenty-something women from my previous life.

"Thank you," he said.

Xiao Yunqing didn't look at him, but the corners of her mouth curled up slightly.

[You're welcome.]

……

The morning class was drawing.

The teacher asked each child to draw their own home.

Song Huan took the crayon and drew a few strokes casually before finishing.

His soul, in its thirties, simply couldn't take a three-year-old's art class seriously.

Moreover, he doesn't have much artistic talent.

He turned to look at Xiao Yunqing.

She was drawing intently.

He drew very slowly and very carefully.

The house was pink, the roof was red, and four people were standing at the door.

Dad, Mom, a little girl with a pigtail, and...

Song Huan leaned closer for a look.

The little man seemed to be wearing the same blue clothes he was wearing today.

"Is this me?" he asked, pointing to the little figure.

Xiao Yunqing's hand trembled, and the crayon drawing went astray.

[How did he find out?!]

"No," she said expressionlessly, erasing the little figure. "That's a human trafficker."

After erasing it, he secretly drew an identical one next to it.

Song Huan saw it, but didn't expose it.

He just smiled.

Xiao Yunqing's ears turned red again.

……

Something happened before lunch break.

It happened very suddenly.

Song Huan went to the restroom, and when she came back, she saw Xiao Yunqing standing in the corridor with a chubby boy in front of her.

He recognized the chubby boy; his name was Wang Hao, the one who cried and looked for his mother yesterday.

However, after only one day, Wang Hao started treating the kindergarten as his second home, bullying other children everywhere he went.

"What kind of lousy flower is this?" Wang Hao pointed to the small flower on Xiao Yunqing's chest, which she had just taken back from Song Huan and pinned back on.

Xiao Yunqing didn't speak, she just stared at him.

"Only little girls wear flowers," Wang Hao reached for the flower, "Let me see!"

"No." Xiao Yunqing took a step back.

"Be good, let me see!"

But Wang Hao was half a head taller than her, and could reach her with a simple stretch of his hand.

He grabbed the flower and pulled it outwards with force.

The paper flower split open in the middle, and the petals scattered all over the ground.

Xiao Yunqing was stunned.

She looked down at the broken pieces on the ground without saying a word.

Wang Hao was also a little stunned; he hadn't expected the flower to be so fragile.

But he still stubbornly insisted, "Hmph, what a worthless flower, I don't care for it."

Then he saw Song Huan standing behind him.

Song Huan's expression was calm.

But for some reason, Wang Hao suddenly felt a little scared.

"What are you looking at?"

Song Huan glanced at him, then lowered her head and picked up the broken pieces from the ground one by one.

After picking them up, he took Xiao Yunqing's hand and walked into the classroom.

Xiao Yunqing remained silent throughout the entire process.

But her eyes were already red.

……

Afternoon nap time.

The children were made to lie down on their little beds again.

Song Huan lay on the bed and turned to look at the side.

Xiao Yunqing stood with her back to him, motionless.

[......]

There are no words in my heart.

From the moment she spoke until now, she hasn't uttered a single word from her heart.

Song Huan was a little worried.

He was about to speak when he suddenly heard a very soft sound.

A rustling sound.

He sat up in bed and peeked out.

Xiao Yunqing had her back to him, and her shoulders were moving.

Her hands were under the pillow, and it was unclear what she was doing.

Song Huan quietly climbed off the bed and went around to her bedside.

He saw Xiao Yunqing holding a piece of paper and folding it.

But she couldn't fold it well.

She folded the paper into crumpled, crooked shapes, and couldn't fold it into a flower shape no matter what she did.

She folded it, but it didn't work; she had to take it apart.

Fold it again, but it still doesn't work, so I take it apart.

Stack it again.

Dismantle it again.

Her shoulders trembled even more violently.

Then Song Huan noticed that a drop of water had fallen onto the paper.

Then another drop.

Xiao Yunqing was silent, but she was crying.

She cried as she folded the paper, folding and unfolding it, unfolding and folding it again, but she couldn't fold the flower into shape.

Why...?

He finally heard what was on her mind.

Why can't I fold it...?

[My mother clearly taught me this...]

Those are flowers my mother folded for me...

It's broken...

I want to give him one...

[But why can't I fold it...?]

Song Huan stood by her bedside, looking at that small figure, at her trembling shoulders, and at the tear-soaked paper in her hand.

He suddenly felt a tightness in his chest.

"Xiao Yunqing".

Xiao Yunqing froze.

She didn't turn around, but hurriedly hid the paper under her pillow.

Song Huan walked around to stand in front of her.

She lowered her head and desperately wiped her face with her hands, but the tears just wouldn't stop, and her face was completely wet.

Don't look...

Don't look at me...

Song Huan sat down beside her bed.

"Let me see that piece of paper."

Xiao Yunqing shook her head and buried her face in her knees.

Song Huan waited a moment, then said softly, "I can fold it."

Xiao Yunqing's shoulders twitched slightly.

She slowly raised her head, her eyes red, her face covered in tears, and her ponytail at the back of her head disheveled.

"You can?" Her voice was hoarse, trembling with tears.

"Yes," Song Huan said. "Let me see, and I'll fold it for you."

Xiao Yunqing hesitated for a moment, then took the paper out from under her pillow.

It was already wrinkled beyond recognition, and several places were wet with tears, making it soft and limp.

Song Huan took it, looked at it, and said, "This one won't do, it's too wrinkled. Do you have any new paper?"

Xiao Yunqing shook her head.

Song Huan thought for a moment and then lifted the pillow off her bed.

There was a piece of white paper under his pillow, which he had secretly hidden at noon, intending to use it to fold paper airplanes.

"Use mine."

Xiao Yunqing stared blankly as he handed her the paper.

[his……]

"Quick," Song Huan whispered, "don't let the teacher find out."

Xiao Yunqing took the paper and looked at him.

Song Huan put the crumpled piece of paper aside, picked up a new piece of paper, and began to fold it.

He's actually not very good at it either.

What grown man in his thirties knows how to fold paper flowers?

But in his previous life, he had watched an origami tutorial while browsing videos, and it happened to be about folding these kinds of small flowers.

He tried hard to recall, taking it one step at a time.

First fold it into a triangle, then fold it again...

No, we need to tear it down and start over.

Xiao Yunqing watched him fold and unfold the paper, her tears still wet on her face, but she had stopped crying.

[He doesn't know either...]

[But he's so serious...]

"Can you?" she asked softly.

"Almost there, almost there," Song Huan said stubbornly, "I'm about to get into the swing of things."

It was dismantled again.

Xiao Yunqing suddenly whispered, "The first step is... first fold it into a square, then fold it in half into a triangle, and then fold the two corners upwards..."

Song Huan looked up at her.

Her face flushed, and she said in a soft voice, "My mother taught me."

Song Huan handed her the paper in her hand: "Then teach me."

Xiao Yunqing was stunned.

[Should I teach him?]

[I……]

"Come on," Song Huan moved closer to her, "you fold one step, and I'll learn one step."

Xiao Yunqing glanced at him and took the paper.

Her hands were small and trembling a little, but this time, she folded them very slowly and carefully.

"Fold it into a square."

"Fold it in half to form a triangle."

"Fold the two corners upwards to form a small square..."

"Turn it over again..."

"Spread out the petals..."

As Xiao Yunqing spoke softly, her mood gradually calmed down.

A small pink flower slowly took shape in her palm.

Although it's a little crooked and the petals aren't even, it's a flower, a real flower.

Xiao Yunqing stared at the flower in her hand, stunned.

I folded it myself!

Song Huan clapped her hands and exclaimed, "Awesome!"

Xiao Yunqing looked up at him, her eyes bright.

I've finished folding it...

[I folded it!!]

Then she bent down and handed him the flowers: "Here you go."

Song Huan was stunned.

"For me?"

Xiao Yunqing nodded.

[This is for you.]

Thank you for the candy you gave me yesterday...

[besides……]

[You just helped me pick up the flowers...]

Song Huan took the crooked little flower and looked at it for a long time.

This must be the ugliest flower he has ever received.

But it was also the best flower he had ever received.

Song Huan originally thought that flowers would only grow on her grave after she died, but she didn't expect to receive them now.

"Thank you," he said earnestly.

Xiao Yunqing turned her face away, refusing to look at him.

But Song Huan saw it, and the corners of her mouth turned up high.

[You're welcome.]

……

When school ended in the afternoon, Song Huan pinned the flower to her chest.

When Zhang Xuejuan came to pick him up, she saw him immediately.

"Hey, what's this? Who gave it to you?"

Song Huan thought for a moment and said, "A friend."

Zhang Xuejuan looked down at him, smiling, "Xiao Yunqing?"

Song Huan didn't speak, but she didn't deny it either.

Zhang Xuejuan smiled and took his hand: "Let's go home."

As she reached the door, Song Huan glanced back.

Xiao Yunqing was still sitting in that corner; her mother hadn't arrived yet.

But she wasn't afraid today.

She was looking down at her hands, as if she was thinking about something.

[tomorrow……]

Will he come again tomorrow?

Song Huan heard it.

He smiled and answered in his heart.

meeting.