Chi Yong, with natural grace, led his daughter into the post office, even flicking Cheng Ying's forehead playfully.

Upon entering, Cheng Ying immediately forgot about Chi Yong; she had spotted the postage stamps.

No one needed to tell her; Cheng Ying knew investing in these was a surefire bet. Small capital, huge returns. Her eyes practically gleamed. Cheng Ying didn't even bother looking up.

Chi Yong said, "Yingzi, wait for Uncle here. Don't wander off, understand?"

Cheng Ying nodded. She needed private space too. "Hurry up and go." She waved her hand. "I won't wander. I'll wait right here." As for what Chi Yong was doing, Cheng Ying was philosophical; what was meant to happen would happen eventually. Better sooner than later—less worry. Some things had to be faced sooner or later.

Chi Yong turned and walked into the interior of the post office.

Cheng Ying approached and looked at the meager selection of stamps. "Do you have any complete sets?"

The service attitude here was clearly lacking. "Just these."

A woman with a perm, possessing an attitude that demanded a formal complaint, spoke with palpable impatience.

Cheng Ying glanced around. Well, 315 (Consumer Rights Day) hadn't arrived yet; they'd have to endure her.

The woman stood behind the post office service counter. "Buying or not?" Honestly, looking at her, this didn't even seem like a proper service counter.

Cheng Ying pulled two yuan from her pocket. "Give me one sheet of each."

The woman's arrogance deflated slightly. "Little girl, aren't you supposed to have an adult with you? You shouldn't be spending money carelessly."

Cheng Ying was also anxious about Chi Yong emerging. "Mind your own business!" Her tone worsened.

The woman was clearly not one for patience. "Buy it or don't." She snatched the money and handed Cheng Ying the stamps—two fen apiece.

Cheng Ying’s two yuan bought a full ten sheets.

Cheng Ying was satisfied. Though she didn't know if these were the most valuable, one thing was certain: their value would only rise, never fall. In the future, they would certainly be worth more than two yuan.

Cheng Ying was immensely pleased internally, able to completely disregard the staff member's haughty behavior. If only the woman's department weren't so good, Cheng Ying surely would have cursed her, wishing for her dismissal.

Unwilling to deal with the aggressive woman, Cheng Ying left the post office entrance to wait for Chi Yong. Naturally, as soon as she was outside, she tucked the stamps into her spatial storage. She had to admit, despite the woman's poor attitude, she was concerned a child wouldn't know how to handle the stamps, so she had even packed them into a shabby envelope for Cheng Ying, which proved quite convenient.

When Chi Yong emerged and didn't see Cheng Ying inside, he started to worry. Thankfully, he spotted her sitting on the steps just outside the door. The girl looked so well-behaved sitting there that it stopped the reproaches gathering on Chi Yong's tongue.

"Let's go," Chi Yong said. Cheng Ying could hear a faint disappointment in his voice, unlike the good mood he had entering the post office.

Cheng Ying, carrying a stack of future wealth in the form of stamps, felt quite cheerful and paid little attention to Chi Yong's low spirits. Her stepfather coming to the post office—was he waiting for a letter from someone? Cheng Ying let her mind drift toward the dramatic possibilities. Perhaps in some big city, some literary young woman was pining for him—that would be quite something. It might even lead to some scandal.

But then she considered his age, his appearance, his demeanor. To claim his life before this point was a slate wiped clean—was he trying to fool her? Besides, didn't he still have Chi Wu's mother?

Cheng Ying's mind raced. The stamps didn't seem so wonderful anymore; it was vexing. Following behind Chi Yong, Cheng Ying felt she would be doing a disservice to the dried rations her own mother had prepared for her late at night if she remained silent.

She pursed her lips. "Um, Uncle, have you eaten?"

Chi Yong turned to look at her. "Are you hungry, Yingzi?"

Cheng Ying shook her head. "No, it’s just that you look unwell. Are you hungry, Uncle?"

Chi Yong rarely experienced such thoughtfulness from his stepdaughter, and it gave him an unexpected feeling. "Uncle isn't hungry."

Cheng Ying continued, "You're not hungry? That's good. Right now, our family barely has enough to eat or warm clothes; we can't afford to worry about other things." With that said, Cheng Ying watched him from behind. Dressed like a villager, he still managed to carry the stride of a city dweller. Cheng Ying thought of Captain Cheng Shan with his tightly rolled trouser cuffs, and then looked at her stepfather’s patched cotton trousers. Ah, clothes didn't just set off a person; sometimes, a person set off the clothes.

Cheng Ying shook her head, unwilling to look at her stepfather anymore. She hurried her pace, managing to get a few steps ahead of him. She felt unsettled by her stepfather’s appearance, so she didn't want to look; she’d just walk in front.

Chi Yong paused for half a second when he heard that statement, tinged with a slight world-weariness. Cheng Ying, who had been walking beside him, dropped back half a step. Watching her calm gait, he couldn't help but feel as if he had just seen a ghost. Was that something a little girl would say?

Cheng Ying felt quite successful. Her persuasion had been quite subtle, and she had also conveyed to Chi Yong: Don't think about extraneous things; I'm watching you. How straightforward was that?

Chi Yong’s mouth took a moment to close. He truly understood—the girl was telling him he was struggling to feed himself, yet he had the energy to think about other matters. He just didn't know what exactly the girl imagined he was thinking about.

Then Chi Yong suddenly realized. No wonder the old lady, despite her age, insisted on coming to the city. She must have been worried about him. For Cheng Ying to say that, she must have overheard the old lady muttering something. However, the way she expressed the sentiment with such precision raised his opinion of Cheng Ying to a new level. He had a child his own age; frankly, that child's mind didn't turn as quickly as hers. And his own child had grown up under his constant, preferential guidance. Chi Yong simply didn't believe that a current primary school teacher could match his level of instruction. He was confident in that.

Given Cheng Ying's young age, even walking a few steps ahead, Chi Yong could catch up in two long strides.

Chi Yong said, "Yingzi, Uncle can't think about other things, but everyone has parents who raised them. It's been over a year since Uncle received a letter from Wu Zi's grandparents." This was not an explanation, exactly; Chi Yong had just held it in for too long and needed someone to talk to. Who wouldn't miss their own mother and father?

Cheng Ying glanced sideways at her stepfather. Looking at his expression, he seemed even more downcast than before. It seemed genuine; if it wasn't romantic longing, the sadness must stem from family. Some things, even if you were a top actor, couldn't be faked. Otherwise, how could people assign such clear rankings?

Cheng Ying considered herself sharp enough to judge: "Uncle, the Captain said things are going to get better soon. Maybe you can go back and see your grandparents." Cheng Ying called them "Grandpa and Grandma" naturally. This address wasn't flattery. Cheng Ying was an adult; some things, if you lacked strength, couldn't be improved just because someone else wanted to be kind. It was merely courtesy.

Chi Yong felt a warmth in his chest. "Mhm, if there's a chance. I've waited so many years."

The two didn't speak much more. Cheng Ying felt she had done right by her mother—at least under her watch, she had kept an eye on her stepfather, preventing any other romantic entanglement. As for Chi Yong missing his birth parents, Cheng Ying found that perfectly normal. Besides, saying too much, becoming overly familiar too soon, she felt was unnecessary. Who knew if this man might eventually leave to be with his parents, leaving behind only her own mother?

As for Chi Yong, he thought Cheng Ying was excellent—a sensible child. Especially watching the crowds coming and going on the street, children her age celebrating the New Year. Although his own child wasn't dressed as well, his own child had better bearing. Look how composed she remained, showing none of the shyness or discomfort of being out of place. Moreover, on closer inspection, his child hadn't even cast a sidelong glance at the other children. Was that the expected emotion for a child her age? Shouldn't there be envy? Chi Yong genuinely couldn't figure it out.

He then thought of his own Chi Wu. This child’s upbringing was clearly insufficient; this was the gap, the disparity. He couldn't help but admire his difficult old mother; without even thinking, he knew Yingzi was taught by the old lady. Of course, thinking of this, he couldn't help but frown. They really were a difficult pair.

When Cheng Ying and Chi Yong returned to the hospital, the old lady still hadn't come out. Apparently, getting dentures fitted was meticulous work at any time. Chi Yong led Cheng Ying to sit on the long benches.

Their demeanor drew extra attention from the doctors and nurses who passed by. It wasn't just anything; society was still closed off, and the distinction between villagers and city dwellers was vast. It was immediately obvious. Yet, these two sat on the chairs, both looking self-possessed, both looking comfortable, despite their clothing contradicting their expressions.

Frankly, if someone had stepped forward and called Cheng Ying "having charisma," Cheng Ying would have slapped them silly—that word, "charisma," was deliberately sickening. But Cheng Ying did possess a difference from others, from other children at this moment; and that difference lay in her bearing. This was something Cheng Ying herself hadn't realized.