After Teasing the Villain and Running Away - Chapter 24

The chubby little ringleader, seeing his prank succeed, patted his damp hands smugly and declared, “Don’t talk to Xin Zimo, or you’ll catch her sickness too!”

Xin Zimo’s eyelashes trembled as a mist gathered in her eyes. She turned to Jiang Ruosheng with stubborn determination and explained, “I’m not sick. I just have a weak constitution. It’s not contagious.”

Her voice was urgent, and though she wanted to reach out to Jiang Ruosheng again, she withdrew her hand.

The rumor that Xin Zimo carried a contagious disease had been spread by the little fatty in class. His mother had warned him not to play with Xin Zimo, saying she carried “illness energy.” After that, none of the other children dared to go near her.

Kids always treat adults’ words as gospel truth, and no matter how much Xin Zimo tried to explain, it was useless.

Jiang Ruosheng reached through the railing and took Xin Zimo’s soft little hand in hers, then glared fiercely at the annoying little fatty. “Do you know how serious the sickness you can get from playing in the mud is?”

The little fatty froze, and his friends nearby also stiffened with concern.

“Playing in the mud can’t make you sick,” the fatty protested. “My mom never said that.”

Jiang Ruosheng frowned and shook her head, adopting a grave tone. “Mud is full of bacteria—tiny, invisible bugs that crawl from your hands into your body, wriggling around and around~ wriggling around and around~”

“You’re lying! I’m strong—I can’t get sick!”

“I’m a doctor. Would I lie to you?” Jiang Ruosheng retorted. “Hasn’t your mom ever told you that playing in the mud can make you swallow bacteria and get sick?”

The little fatty didn’t answer, but another child piped up, “My mom said that! Are you really a doctor?”

The fatty shrank back, as if he could already feel the wriggling bugs inside him, and his skin started to itch.

“Once those bugs get inside you, they’ll bite your stomach, chew your flesh, turn your skin red, and make it rot. And if you don’t go to the hospital in time—”

The fatty burst into terrified tears. “What happens then? Will I… will I die?” The other kids were equally frightened, some already wiping their eyes.

Jiang Ruosheng, utterly unrepentant, picked at her ear and shushed them lightly. “Stop yelling. The louder you scream, the faster the bugs crawl. Can you hear them? That rustling, scritching sound—”

The kids clamped their mouths shut, straining to listen. The air seemed to hum with a strange, squirming noise.

“And you know what?” Jiang Ruosheng added. “They love biting naughty children the most.”

The fatty brightened slightly. “That’s good! I’m not a naughty kid.”

Jiang Ruosheng: “…”

“But you just bullied Xin Zimo. Bugs love kids like you. They’ve already marked you. From now on, every time you pick on someone, they’ll come back and bite you again.”

Tearfully, the fatty shook his head. “I won’t bully anyone ever again! Doctor, please save me!”

Jiang Ruosheng nodded. “I can help you—but first, you all have to apologize to Xin Zimo!”

The children exchanged glances, then chorused their apologies—even the once-brazen little fatty.

Jiang Ruosheng: “Then let me tell you how to get rid of the germs right now—go wash your hands immediately. Bugs are terrified of water. As long as you rinse off all the mud, they won’t crawl on you anymore.”

Hearing this solution, they all rushed over to the kindergarten teacher on the other side, pushing and shoving while crying and begging to wash their hands, terrified that even a second’s delay would mean getting bitten.

The teacher’s pink apron was already stained with several muddy handprints as she looked at the crowd of sobbing, unruly toddlers surrounding her, feeling utterly overwhelmed. “Line up properly, everyone! We’ll wash hands one by one in an orderly line.”

After scaring off those little brats, Jiang Ruosheng couldn’t resist poking Xin Zimo’s small white hand. “Are you a little silly goose? When others bully you, you just take it?”

Given her temperament, she would’ve charged over and punched that chubby kid the moment he threw mud at her.

Recalling her own unruly childhood days, she’d been the undisputed queen of the kindergarten—mischievous and playful. Anyone who tried to bully her would get shoved to the ground and beaten, regardless of whether she could win the fight. After enough beatings, no one dared provoke her anymore.

Xin Zimo lowered her head slightly. “But teacher said we should get along with our classmates…”

Definitely a little silly goose. This didn’t seem like her own child at all.

Pursing her lips, Jiang Ruosheng took out a wet wipe from her bag, first cleaning the child’s small hands thoroughly before wiping the mud stains off the plush toy.

“Stretch your foot out a bit!” Jiang Ruosheng’s tone remained stern, her anger not yet fully dissipated.

But the obedient Xin Zimo no longer felt afraid. “Pretty sister is a doctor, you’re so amazing!”

Jiang Ruosheng meticulously cleaned the little leather shoes, leaving no mud stain untouched: “Of course I was lying to them. I’m not a doctor—I’m a warrior of justice.”

“Next time that chubby kid tries to bully you, just punch…” Looking at Xin Zimo’s soft, dough-like physique, Jiang Ruosheng changed her words, “…just cry as hard as you can while shouting for the teacher, then tell on him.”

Xin Zimo looked conflicted at her now sparkling red shoes. “Zimo isn’t a crybaby, and tattling isn’t nice behavior either… I wuwu ah…”

Jiang Ruosheng pinched Xin Zimo’s soft cheeks between her fingers, kneading them as she spoke, “So you want to keep getting bullied? In this wide world, protecting yourself is what matters most. If you can’t even do that, why worry about anything else?”

Xin Zimo pouted, her beautiful clear eyes looking up at Jiang Ruosheng. In that instant, Jiang Ruosheng felt something inside her get poked, her lips twitching uncontrollably upward.

She molded Xin Zimo’s cheeks into a smile before ruffling her hair. The fine, fluffy strands felt wonderful to touch—the child’s head shape was perfectly round like her own. Cradling that perfectly curved little skull in her palm filled her with inexplicable happiness.

Jiang Ruosheng, who’d always maintained a strict no-toddlers policy, now understood the joys of raising a child.

So among all human larvae, there existed this variety—Xin Zimo was well-behaved and sensible, completely unlike those tantrum-throwing, willful little monsters.

If she had a child like Xin Zimo…

Jiang Ruosheng imagined it briefly and found the idea not entirely unacceptable.

Xin Zimo loved this head-patting sensation because it meant someone liked her. Nuzzling against Jiang Ruosheng’s palm, she gazed up at the pretty sister with a bright, upturned smile.

For a moment, the atmosphere between the two reached a certain harmony.

“Ding ling ling—” The annoying ringtone suddenly sounded, snapping Jiang Ruosheng out of her daze of petting the little one. She took out her phone from her bag, saw the caller ID, and frowned before hanging up.

Xin Zimo’s eyes flickered slightly. She knew that when adults received calls, it meant they had to leave and wouldn’t have time to play with little Zimo anymore.

“Is the pretty sister going to work now? Grown-ups are always so busy.”

Seeing the disappointed expression on the child’s face, Jiang Ruosheng actually felt a pang of reluctance. “Yes, I’ve been out for too long and need to get back to work. There’s a pile of tasks waiting for me.”

Xin Zimo tugged at the plush paw of her teddy bear and asked softly, “Then… will you come back to chat with Zimo again?”

Jiang Ruosheng stroked the hair resting on the child’s shoulders. “Do you want me to come back?”

Xin Zimo’s eyes lit up as she nodded vigorously. “Yes! I really like the pretty sister.”

Jiang Ruosheng chuckled, her usually cold expression melting like ice in spring. “Oh? Is it because I’m pretty?”

Xin Zimo twisted one foot awkwardly, drawing circles on the ground as she hung her head low. “Because… no kids at kindergarten want to play with me… No one talks to me either. Every day, I can only be with Momo.”

Momo was the name Xin Zimo had given to her plush teddy bear.

“I like the pretty sister. I want to talk with the pretty sister.”

Xin Zimo stole a glance at Jiang Ruosheng’s expression, afraid she might refuse, looking small and helpless.

Jiang Ruosheng rummaged in her bag again and extended both hands toward Xin Zimo. “Such a silly little thing. Do you want chocolate or candy?”

Xin Zimo looked at the beautifully wrapped candy and chocolate in Jiang Ruosheng’s hands, her eyes darting between them as if unable to decide.

Jiang Ruosheng said, “You can’t have both. Too much candy will give you cavities.”

After swaying indecisively for a while, Xin Zimo finally chose the chocolate. “Thank you, pretty sister.”

Unwrapping it, Jiang Ruosheng popped the chocolate into Xin Zimo’s mouth, watching as the child’s cheek bulged on one side. “Is it good, silly little thing?”

Xin Zimo nodded happily, then pouted slightly. “I’m not a silly little thing. My name is Xin Zimo.”

“You’re so clueless and silly. If you’re not a silly little thing, then what are you?” With just that one remark, Jiang Ruosheng saw the little one’s face scrunch up and couldn’t help but feel amused.

She seemed to have discovered a new pastime—teasing the little one.

“Everyone calls me Zimo, but actually, I have a nickname. Only the closest and most beloved people can call me that,” Xin Zimo said with sudden seriousness. “But I like the pretty sister, so the pretty sister can call me by my nickname.”

Then, she motioned for Jiang Ruosheng to lean closer, stood on tiptoe, and whispered into her ear, her breath soft, “My nickname is Sheng Sheng.”

“Sheng Sheng?”

“Mm-hmm, it’s Sheng Sheng.”

Hearing this oddly familiar name, Jiang Ruosheng froze. “Sheng Sheng” was her own childhood nickname, though nowadays, only her parents occasionally used it.

Ruan Xin also knew about this nickname—her mother had told her—and would often tease her with it afterward.

But she knew that even though they sounded the same, Xin Zimo’s “Sheng” was likely a different character from hers.

Jiang Ruosheng: “Shengsheng, what a lovely name. Then you don’t need to call me ‘pretty sister’ anymore—just call me Ruoruo.”

“Ruoruo? Sister Ruoruo?” One called Shengsheng, the other Ruoruo.

Their names matched so well!

Finally, Jiang Ruosheng reluctantly stroked the child’s head. “I have to go now, but I’ll come play with you again later.”

Xin Zimo waved goodbye to her with reluctant longing.

Only after the car started moving again did Jiang Ruosheng remember her original purpose for coming.

She had only intended to confirm whether the child was hers, but somehow, through conversation, she had ended up befriending her ex-girlfriend’s child.

It was a bit absurd.

But she genuinely liked Xin Zimo, which made her feel just a little—though not much—curious about the child’s other parent.

Instead of raising the child properly, they had chosen to abandon her at an orphanage, only for her to be adopted by someone else.

Was this Ruan Xin’s decision, or did it have something to do with the other parent?

Though it was her first time meeting Xin Zimo, she could already sense the child’s temperament.

Sensitive and introverted, soft and timid, so quiet and well-behaved it was almost heartbreaking—like a snail curled up in its shell, a defenseless creature yearning for freedom.

The absence of parents in a child’s life creates deep insecurity, and that insecurity lingers into adulthood, difficult to ever truly shake off.

Xin Zimo longed for companionship, trying to fill that void.

Jiang Ruosheng wasn’t a particularly empathetic person. She could recognize others’ pain and struggles, but more often than not, she leaned toward rationality. Weak emotions were useless in changing reality, and pointless empathy was just redundant.

Calmness and reason were always the right choices.

Yet now, for some reason, her chest felt inexplicably heavy, aching for Xin Zimo.

Her fingers tightened around the steering wheel as a thoughtful glint flashed in her eyes. It seemed she still needed to thoroughly investigate Ruan Xin’s whereabouts during those seven years abroad.