"Little girl, are you truly serious about being friends with Xiaoqing?"

Mr. Zhao glanced at the stubborn little girl, then at his son, who had also shown his willingness.

He wasn’t a cruel father—just protective.

Having just moved here, his son needed time to adjust. A good friend would be a blessing.

But the gap between their families had led Mr. Zhao astray.

He’d assumed the wealthy girl only wanted to play, never truly befriend his son—so he’d warned him away.

Yet the girl’s earnest actions now proved otherwise.

Mr. Zhao saw it clearly. At five or six, children wear their hearts on their sleeves.

The anxiety and longing on her face were unmistakably genuine.

"I want to! Really want to! Very much want to! Super want to be friends with Anqing!"

Xu Yuting met the adult’s eyes squarely, her voice ringing with sincerity.

"Yuting…"

The boy heard every word. Deeply moved, he felt incredibly lucky to have such a friend.

"Alright… You’re a girl. Don’t bully my Xiaoqing," Mr. Zhao said with a gentle smile, choosing not to part the little friends.

"Mm-hmm! I’d never bully Anqing! Anyone who hurts my friend gets a punch!"

Relief flooded her. She bounced up, joy shining plainly on her face.

"Remember that promise, Xiaoqing. She’s a good kid. Play together."

Mr. Zhao admired her loyalty at such a young age.

"Mm… got it…"

Zhao Anqing beamed at her—a pure, radiant smile.

That their friendship could continue felt like a wonderful surprise.

"Anqing, let’s go play!"

With parental permission, Xu Yuting lifted her chin, puffed out her flat little chest, bursting with pride.

"Mm. I’ll follow Yuting."

Zhao Anqing obeyed without hesitation.

"With a companion, Xiaoqing should be happier," Mr. Zhao murmured, watching their retreating backs with quiet relief.

"Yuting, have the soy milk and steamed buns."

The boy offered his breakfast—yesterday’s meal at her house weighed on his conscience.

"Wow, have *you* eaten?"

Xu Yuting hadn’t. She’d stood on a stool at dawn, waiting eagerly on the balcony.

"I have. It’s for you."

Zhao Anqing avoided her gaze, telling a tiny lie.

"Then I’ll check! Round means full. Flat means hungry."

Cleverly, she lifted his shirt and pressed her small, fair hand to his stomach.

"Don’t—!"

Flustered, he tried to stop her too late. He strained to puff out his empty belly.

"Hmm… it *is* a little round."

She rubbed gently. "Let go… I’m not lying," he pleaded, muscles trembling.

Holding an empty stomach tight was exhausting.

"Hehe, Anqing, your tummy feels so soft."

Reluctantly, she withdrew her hand.

"Eat before it gets cold!"

He presented the food like a treasure.

"Mm-hmm! Thank you for the treat, Anqing!"

She dug in—steamed bun in one hand, soy milk in the other—chewing and sipping with exaggerated delight.

"Good?"

He watched silently, swallowing hard, eyes hopeful.

"Delicious!"

Xu Yuting nodded firmly, flashing a bright smile.

Truthfully, it was ordinary compared to her mom’s cooking.

But it was *Anqing’s*.

For him, she’d savor anything.

"Mm. Glad you like it."

He smiled back—just as *gurgle… gurgle…* broke the silence.

"Uh-oh…"

Blushing, he clutched his stomach.

"Anqing… that’s a hungry tummy. Did you give *me* your breakfast?"

Her watery eyes widened, fixed on him with gentle reproach.

"No! It just… makes noise! I’m not lying to you, Anqing!"

Panic flushed his face. He stammered, desperate to hide the truth.

"Friends… shouldn’t lie… Do you not see me as a friend?"

"NO! You’re my *best* friend!" he choked out.

"I don’t want you skipping breakfast. Mom says it stunts growth!"

Her eyes sparkled. Leaning close, her breath brushed his cheek.

"...I was wrong."

Head bowed, he stared at his toes like a scolded child.

"Eat every day. There’s plenty at my house—you don’t need to save yours."

She knew his kindness, but not at his hunger’s cost.

"Mm. I will. Next time."

He nodded earnestly, like listening to an elder sister.

"Cheer up! Drink the soy milk. Eat the buns."

She handed the food back with a smile.

"You should finish it…"

"It’s been touched. Are you… disgusted by my saliva?"

She asked softly—*she* wouldn’t mind his at all.

"Not even a little! I’ll eat it now!"

He shook his head hard, snatched the food, and devoured it.

"Good?"

*Her* turn to ask. Joy bloomed seeing he didn’t hesitate.

"Mm. Really good."

Zhao Anqing nodded firmly—he *was* starving.

"Hehe! I ate yours, so you *must* come to my house for breakfast tomorrow!"

Laughing, she grabbed his hand and pulled her best friend toward home.