Chapter 3 — Lessons, Left Hooks, and Lunch Break Diplomacy

Under the watchful, slightly envious eyes of Yanning and Jingyi, Baisha followed the old woman into the kitchen, still foggy-headed and unsure why she'd been singled out for this honor.

The kitchen housed a monster of a dishwasher—huge enough to fit half a spaceship, it seemed—but because the orphanage fed a crowd, the dishes had to go in batches. After washing, they needed to be sterilized and neatly sorted onto racks by type.

"There's nothing heavy-duty in here, just a bit of fuss and routine," the old woman said cheerfully. "Before each mealtime, we set the tables and lay out the food. Afterward, we collect the mess and start over. Rinse and repeat. Every day."

She turned and smiled at Baisha. "For lunch, you can help me after your morning lessons—but it'll cost you your nap time."

Baisha shrugged. "That's fine. I'm not really the napping type."

The old woman chuckled. "No wonder Madam Qiong sent you here. You're not like the other kids your age—no tantrums, no trouble. Working in the kitchen will eat up more of your time with chores, but it's not all bad. Sometimes, if you're lucky, you get a double helping of food as a reward."

Baisha: "…"

So that's why those two kids were giving her looks earlier—working in the kitchen meant bonus snacks. That explained a lot.

"Madam Qiong said you're not in the best of health and could use the extra nutrition. This place is perfect for that—some light labor and a full stomach." The woman paused. "But I saw you gave your breakfast to Yanning. That won't do."

Baisha, slightly embarrassed: "I'll do my best to eat next time."

"I'm guessing it's the taste you didn't like," said the old woman, thoughtful. "Not a fan of milk? Some kids adore it. Others can't stand even a whiff of it. I have some mashed potatoes without any milk flavoring—want to give it a try?"

Thus began Baisha's first adventure in bonus dining. Turns out, once you removed the synthetic dairy tang, mashed potatoes became far more edible. She finished the whole bowl in one go.

"Well then, off to class with you," said the woman, clearly delighted. Feeding Baisha seemed to have made her day. "I'll handle the last few dishes."

That warm, grandmotherly gaze made Baisha squirm a little. She quickly excused herself and headed toward the school building.

The classroom building had three floors. On the first, a digital display showed the day's lesson schedule. Baisha found her name on the list and followed it to the appropriate room.

Inside, kids around her age sat in clusters on little stools. When she walked in, several heads turned. Whispering ensued.

"Over here!" Yanning waved enthusiastically. His bright red hair made him impossible to miss.

Baisha joined him, and he even pulled a stool out for her.

"There's a lot of group work in class," he explained, running a hand through his hair. "Homework too. If you're alone, the teacher has to stick you into some random group. Better to just join me and Jingyi."

Baisha nodded. Seemed reasonable.

Jingyi, however, looked a bit stiff.

"If you can't keep up," she said with effort, "I'll tutor you."

Baisha smiled. "I'll try my best. So, what are we learning?"

"The standard curriculum approved by the Federation. All kids our age study it. Same stuff they teach in formal schools, though our pace is a bit slower, and the expectations… a little lower," Jingyi said with a sniff of disdain.

She tapped on the desk. A floating orb of light appeared, which then burst into branches like a growing tree. Letters and numbers floated among its leaves—some in languages Baisha had never seen before, and yet somehow, she could understand them. Jingyi picked out a few chapters, and the corresponding textbook content shimmered into view.

She turned to ask Baisha how far along she was—only to find Baisha staring at the orb, eyes wide and glittering with excitement.

Jingyi's stomach dropped. "Don't tell me... you've never studied this stuff?"

Baisha nodded, perfectly candid.

Jingyi nearly passed out.

"Impossible! Where did you grow up, under a rock? Oh wait—right. Lanslo is already a backwater in the outer rim. Of course you haven't learned any of this. Your whole orphan thing really threw me off…"

She shot a dirty look at Yanning. "This is your fault! She should be in the other classroom!"

Yanning looked surprised, even a bit offended. "Hey, that's not fair, Jingyi."

Jingyi huffed but said no more.

Baisha, sensing something was up: "The other classroom?"

Yanning glanced at her apologetically. "That's… where the kids with radiation sickness study. The ones you saw in the lobby earlier. They're a bit slow, you know."

Baisha: "…" Oh. That kind of classroom.

Jingyi looked like she wanted to explain, but the teacher entered just then.

"Good morning, class. How's everyone feeling today?"

The responses were scattered and half-hearted. Jingyi, unable to continue her grumbling, turned away.

The teacher—tall, thin, bespectacled—spoke in a gentle, steady tone that made even the most restless kids settle down. Baisha listened closely while toying with her own light orb. She realized that, while the educational system here was advanced in concept, the material wasn't beyond her grasp. The math and logic made sense. What tripped her up was literacy—she was, for all intents and purposes, illiterate in this world.

And yet, the novelty of the orb itself had her hooked. Its glowing letters and images danced before her eyes, practically inviting her in. Her mind was running faster than it had in years.

An hour passed.

The lesson ended.

Jingyi threw a glance Baisha's way—half despair, half disbelief.

She'd been watching Baisha the whole time. The girl hadn't even looked at the teacher. Just played with her orb. Nonstop.

Jingyi's gaze trailed up that cascade of silver-grey hair to those sparkling blue eyes. Resigned, she thought, I agreed to let her into the group. This is on me.

The teacher began handing out in-class quizzes. Each student received a unique set of questions, mostly multiple choice—to save time and keep things moving.

Everyone, including Jingyi and Yanning, bowed their heads and got to work. Baisha reluctantly put her orb away and began her quiz.

When the time was up, the teacher reviewed the answers.

"We have three students who scored full marks today: Jingyi, Yanning… and Baisha," he said, smiling. "Jingyi and Yanning are always excellent, but Baisha's performance is truly impressive. Maybe one day the three of you will even make it into Lanslo Secondary School…"

Most of the kids looked utterly unbothered by this.

Yanning and Jingyi, however, stared at Baisha in disbelief.

Jingyi: "Are you messing with us?"

Baisha, distracted: "Messing with you how?" She glanced at her now-reactivated orb. "I just plugged in the formulas and did a bit of fast math. Easy stuff."

Yanning/Jingyi: "…"

Jingyi clearly wasn't buying it, and opened her mouth to argue again—but Yanning cut in, "Let it go. It's a good thing! Now we don't have to worry about our group scores dropping. They might even go up!"

Baisha paused and glanced around the classroom. "But no one else here seems to care that much about the scores."

"Yeah, well…" Yanning scratched his nose, a little sheepish. "It does matter to us."

Baisha nodded. "Got it. The fragile ego of the school-aged child."

Jingyi bristled. "Don't you talk down to me like some adult! You looking down on me? Want to settle this with a fight?"

Baisha blinked. "You seriously want to fight me?"

Yanning jumped in: "Whoa whoa, misunderstanding! We do have basic combat training here. Taught by Mr. Homan—"

This shocked Baisha to her core.

Combat training? In an orphanage?

At lunchtime, Baisha floated through her kitchen duties like a ghost and snagged an extra soybean cake for Yanning and Jingyi.

"Share it," she said, handing it over.

Yanning gratefully accepted. Jingyi was still sulking.

She sat on the front steps, scowling. The orphanage issued standard uniforms—same tops for boys and girls, with shorts for the boys and pleated skirts for the girls. Jingyi's white skirt was wrinkled and streaked with grey, but she didn't seem to mind. No one else did either.

What she did care about, though, was her hair. If it got messy, she'd find a quiet corner to fix it. As long as her hair was smooth, she was still in control. Still dignified.

Baisha sat beside her, ignoring the daggers Jingyi shot from her eyes.

"I've never been in a fight before," Baisha said gloomily.

"I don't believe you anymore," Jingyi replied, drawing an X in front of her chest. "You're just pretending so you can kick my butt in combat class later."

"Forget whether I can or can't," Baisha said. "Why do we have a combat class?"

"In Lanslo," Jingyi said seriously, "you need a strong fist to survive. Whether it's working the mines, patrolling the streets, or joining Kangheng Life-Security Corp as a peacekeeper, physical strength is the bare minimum."

"…Those all sound like extremely violent jobs. Are there any other options?" Baisha asked.

Yanning finished his cake, stood, and said brightly, "Of course! You could apply to military school with us! Be a glorious officer in the Federal Forces! But the entrance exams are brutal. Even kids who follow the standard education track struggle. Us charity cases have to seize every opportunity."

He was clearly passionate about the topic.

Baisha, however, wasn't sold. Federal officer sounded even more violent.

But the conversation didn't last long.

Mr. Homan was already on his way.

Combat class was about to begin.