Chapter Twenty-Four: Learning to Walk Like a Gorilla

Sui Sui’s little brows furrowed, while Feng Rui’s reaction was far more dramatic. She supported Sui Sui’s arm with both hands, as if afraid the camera might miss it, displaying the injury from every possible angle.

“Oh my goodness, how did this happen? It looks terrible—it must hurt a lot!” she exclaimed.

The live comments were filled with sympathetic voices.

“It must have been Su Wan-ning! How vicious—she’d even hurt a child. Isn’t she afraid of going to hell?”

“Have you all forgotten? There were rumors before that Su Wan-ning abused children. It’s definitely her doing!”

Feng Rui’s face radiated concern, but inwardly she was secretly delighted. This time, she was sure Su Wan-ning would stumble.

At first, Sui Sui only frowned slightly, but when he realized Feng Rui wasn’t letting go of his arm and kept chattering at the camera, he caught on. Without betraying any emotion, he withdrew his arm and moved along with the camera, purposely bumping into a raised spot on the bed and calling out, “Ouch!”

“What’s wrong? Do you want to sleep a bit longer?” Feng Rui, having achieved her goal, spoke to Sui Sui with increasing gentleness.

“Here,” Sui Sui pointed with his small hand to a protrusion on the bed frame.

It was one of those old, rustic wooden beds common in rural areas, with peeling paint and obvious age—borrowed from a villager by the production crew. The spot Sui Sui indicated was right where he had been lying, and the lump was so prominent it was visible even beneath the bedsheet.

Feng Rui’s eyes widened in shock, momentarily unable to react.

Sui Sui calmly explained, “Mama always tells us to avoid this spot when we sleep, but just now, when you pulled up the covers, you pushed me onto it.”

It was over.

Feng Rui felt as if she’d been struck by lightning, her mind echoing with those words alone. Who could have guessed that a child of not even four would be so clever? When had she ever pushed him? The mark on his arm—she herself had pinched it just moments ago. How could this be…

But no one would ever doubt the words of an innocent child.

“So that’s what happened. The spot is right where it would press against his arm—poor Sui Sui.”

“This is still Su Wan-ning’s fault, isn’t it? Why didn’t she explain things properly before leaving?”

“Feng Rui really can’t do anything right.”

“I see—it was an accident. I’ll remember next time,” Feng Rui forced a smile, silently accepting the blame.

Sui Sui’s face was expressionless, his young voice clear and firm: “No need. You won’t be coming to our house again.”

His resistance to her was unmistakable, and Feng Rui’s expression darkened further.

Meanwhile, in the other households, after the swap, Sheng Ying discovered that Yang Yang was remarkably disciplined. As soon as he finished his nap, he began working diligently on his homework.

The six-year-old sat at his desk for a full half hour, yet his assignments were still unfinished. Sheng Ying stayed nearby, not wanting to interrupt his focus. As she absentmindedly glanced through Yang Yang’s luggage, she was surprised to find that more than half the suitcase was filled with books and homework assignments—many of which were clearly beyond the comprehension of a typical six-year-old, and numerous extra practice books, all obviously prepared by Yin Shan-shan.

“So being a prodigy isn’t easy—he’s only six and has to do so much homework every day.”

“They don’t even let him off the hook on TV—imagine how it is at home! This is pure drill-sergeant parenting.”

“Why are you all complaining? Do you think geniuses are born, not raised? Without strict parenting, how could a child grow up to be this smart and self-disciplined?”

The comments became a heated debate. Sheng Ying, too, couldn’t help feeling a pang of sympathy. Having once been an athlete, she knew that the relentless monotony and hardship of day-in, day-out training were not something most people could endure—let alone a six-year-old.

As Yang Yang turned another page in his workbook, Sheng Ying couldn’t help but suggest, “Yang Yang, how about we take a break from homework and play for a bit? You’ve been at it for so long—aren’t you tired?”

Yang Yang shook his head and replied politely, “There’s no task this afternoon, so I want to do a bit more now so I can go to bed early tonight.”

Sheng Ying sighed and didn’t push further.

Meanwhile, the comments grew even more intense.

“Sheng Ying must be anxious—Yang Yang doing homework means she doesn’t get any attention-grabbing shots.”

“This child is so serious—there’s not a trace of childhood innocence left. Yin Shan-shan has gone too far.”

“I’m starting to think Su Wan-ning’s parenting is best—learning through play makes sense.”

“Yang Yang’s father is an award-winning actor. Why not train the boy to act instead? Then he wouldn’t have to study so hard.”

“I love well-behaved kids like Yang Yang. I wish I could swap him for my own rebellious child.”

Elsewhere, Best Actress Yin Shan-shan’s experience with tomboy Qian Qian was pure chaos. Yin Shan-shan had liked this bright, lively girl from the start, and had already planned to spend the afternoon doing simple acting exercises with her—discovering Qian Qian’s potential and, perhaps, even paving the way for future collaborations, all while showing off her own talents to win audience favor.

But once she actually spent time with Qian Qian, she realized the girl was the complete opposite of her obedient son—impossible to control.

After their nap, Qian Qian easily accepted that Yin Shan-shan would be looking after her that afternoon.