Life Plan

Chapter 23, Accusations

Liu Chichi ran to the library, where Xiao Qiao had cried until her voice was hoarse. She could not speak and her throat was sore and itchy.

Teacher Chen held her cup and gently coaxed her to drink some water. Seeing Liu Chichi arrive, she quickly handed Xiao Qiao to her, her brows furrowed with anxiety: "Why didn't you come sooner? And there wasn't even anyone to answer the phone. You made so many calls, didn't you have a moment to spare? Even if you couldn't come, you could at least have talked to her. She cried until her voice was hoarse."

"I'm sorry," Liu Chichi apologized instinctively.

Teacher Chen's anxiety reached her. Most of the children in the library were from middle-class families. They were well-off but lacked time, so they sent their children here. Naturally, they didn't want their children to get hurt here.

She turned on her phone's flashlight and pinched Xiao Qiao's cheek: "Ah, open your mouth."

The soft palate has started to turn red. Without a tongue depressor, it's impossible to determine the condition of the throat. If it's an upper respiratory tract infection, it may lead to a cold.

Liu Chichi took out her phone and sent a message to Zhou Ya: [Xiao Qiao's voice is hoarse from crying, should we go to the hospital?]

There was no reply. She hesitated, wondering whether to take the child first. Xiao Qiao's face was flushed, and tears streamed down her face as she pointed to her throat: "It hurts."

Liu Chichi looked at Teacher Chen: "Can you contact her father?"

"I can't get in touch with my parents."

Liu Chichi sent Zhou Ya another message: "The child says her throat hurts. I'll take her to the children's hospital first, and send you the location when we get there."

She signed the papers, and Xiao Qiao followed her. Teacher Chen hesitated for a moment, then followed as well.

Xiao Qiao had some inflammation, and the doctor prescribed an anti-inflammatory ointment, telling her to drink some first. Zhou Ya contacted her half an hour later. Her backpack chain wasn't fully closed, revealing a stack of A4 papers. She had probably come directly here after the meeting, and her expression was somewhere between anxious and angry, or perhaps both.

Zhou Ya took the medical record from Liu Chichi's hand, frowned at her, and asked, "What time did you go there?"

"8:30."

"Didn't we agree to pick up the kids before 6:30? I told you to be a little later, what do you mean by going at this time? Are you even a friend?"

Meeting that accusatory gaze, Liu Chichi instinctively took a step back and habitually apologized, "I'm sorry."

As soon as she finished apologizing, Liu Chichi regretted it. She had already explained beforehand, so why did she have to apologize again?

The gaze then shifted to Teacher Chen. In Liu Chichi's eyes, Zhou Ya had always been gentle and quiet, but at this moment her voice was exceptionally sharp: "You can't even take care of one child? You pay so much in property fees every year, and all you do is eat?"

Ms. Chen frowned as well. She had come with a responsible attitude, but she hadn't expected to be questioned: "Xiao Qiao's appointment time is six o'clock, and childcare ends at seven o'clock at the latest. We have contacted each other many times."

"So you let the child cry for so long? Didn't you know how to comfort him?"

"I kept trying to comfort her." Teacher Chen was also exhausted. During that time, she talked almost non-stop, trying to soothe Xiao Qiao, but as the children were picked up one by one, her emotions began to break down.

Teacher Chen quickly bowed, said goodbye, and fled the scene.

Liu Chichi also wanted to run away, but Xiao Qiao held her hand.

Zhou Ya knelt down, hugged Xiao Qiao, and gently coaxed her to let go of Liu Chichi's hand. She then placed Xiao Qiao on her shoulder, picked her up, and turned to leave. As she stood up, she glanced at Liu Chichi, her eyes flashing with resentment and even a hint of hatred.

Liu Chichi was slightly stunned. Her hands remained in the same position. She felt that the look in his eyes was familiar, as if she had seen it somewhere before.

I remember now, the mother of that red-haired boy. The look in her eyes conveyed an unconscious resentment towards the person who hurt her child.

Standing in the noisy lobby of the children's hospital, she began to reflect on whether she had made a mistake. If she hadn't participated in the group meeting tonight, Xiao Qiao wouldn't have cried for so long.

At least, if she hadn't muted the phone, she could have comforted Xiao Qiao first. She knew what it felt like to mistakenly believe someone had been abandoned; Xiao Qiao was just a child, and she shouldn't have made her suffer so much.

And Zhou Ya, do you also think it's her fault?

Liu Chichi was a little tired. Rationally, she felt it wasn't her fault. She was just helping out. Picking up and dropping off children is the parents' responsibility. Besides, she had explained it beforehand, but Zhou Ya just hadn't seen it.

But she couldn't help thinking that she should have come sooner.

She felt like she had returned to when she first entered university. There were always familiar faces among her elementary and middle school classmates, and stories were passed down by word of mouth. She carried the stigma of being an "ungrateful wretch" for nine years until she entered university.

Although she applied to a local university at her mother's insistence, her roommates from all over the country were unaware of her past. They would share course information, club information they learned from various sources, and even team up with her.

These acts of kindness were magnified in Liu Chichi's eyes. In order to repay and retain these kindnesses, she did her best to repay them—carrying all the books in the dormitory in her backpack, buying breakfast to reserve seats, taking on most of the work for group assignments, and taking the initiative to share her review notes during exam week.

Her roommates all praised her, but they were still not close because Liu Chichi did not participate in any of the parties they invited her to.

She said she wasn't used to crowded places.

But Liu Chichi knew there was only one reason: she had no money.

Her mother calculated that her daily food expenses were 20 yuan, and required her to come home for dinner every weekend. She would receive 100 yuan every week, and she had to report every other school and miscellaneous fee to her mother one by one.

Even with student loans, there is a 10,000 yuan annual allowance. In addition to tuition fees, registered impoverished students have their accommodation and miscellaneous fees waived, and there are also special work-study positions available.

Under her mother's surveillance, Liu Chichi didn't even have the opportunity to go out for a part-time job on weekends.

Therefore, she cannot participate in the dormitory's group recreational activities because the expenses of going out are too high for her to afford; her mother will not provide that money.

There was a student in the dormitory whose family was not well-off. She was not registered as an impoverished household, but student loans and grants enabled her to live with dignity. In addition, she worked part-time, so she had more freedom of movement than Liu Chichi.

Even the ten yuan round-trip fare to a free attraction was too expensive for Liu Chichi; it was half a day's living expenses.

Friendships are built up through non-essential recreational activities, so Liu Chichi and her friends remained just roommates.

But this was already quite an achievement for Liu Chichi.

This relationship only lasted until the first scholarship announcement in her sophomore year, when the scholarship was worth two thousand yuan. Liu Chichi needed the money; her molars occasionally ached, and her mother only said it was because she had bitten something hard or had a sore throat.

This discomfort bothered her, and she wanted to go to the hospital to get it checked out; she needed the money.

She ranked third in GPA and had enough activity points.

Among the several registered impoverished students, she was selected for the school scholarship. Her roommate's GPA was exactly the lowest among all the available spots; if she declined, the scholarship would go to her roommate.

She was a local who could go home on weekends, while her roommate relied on student loans to pay her tuition and worked part-time almost every weekend. Liu Chichi knew that they both hoped she would give up voluntarily.