Feng Qingxue had just finished making the promised Dacron clothes for her child, washed them, and hung them out to dry, when she was called to the school.
Accompanying her were the parents of the boys involved—the four who had fought.
Teacher Zhao couldn't bear the consequences of sending home several bruised and battered children and having to face their parents' anger. After all, the boys were all the children of high-ranking officials. It was precisely their superior backgrounds that had shaped their arrogant dispositions, leaving the teacher no choice but to summon the parents.
Feng Qingxue, worried about her daughter, arrived first.
She jogged the entire way, sweat dripping and dampening her bangs that clung to her full forehead.
