Quick Transmigration: Don't Let That Cannon Fodder Go

Chapter 410 The Second Daughter in the Historical Fiction 105

This was Song Qin's first time attending a parent-teacher conference.

She took this parent-teacher meeting very seriously and even bought a very expensive outfit.

Before dawn, Song Qin was already sitting in front of her dressing table getting ready.

Fu Zhiyi was stunned when she got up.

She rubbed her eyes, looking like she hadn't woken up yet: "Mom, why are you up so early?"

Normally, there would be no sound from Song Qin's room at this time, because her school starts too early.

Song Qin straightened her clothes and looked at her somewhat shyly: "Second sister, do you think it would be okay for Mom to wear this outfit to your parent-teacher conference?"

She was genuinely nervous. She wasn't very educated; she only attended second grade and hadn't continued her education. Now that she thought about it, she hadn't been to a classroom in decades.

Fu Zhiyi's eyes crinkled into a smile: "Mom, anything will do, it's not important."

She wondered why she got up so early this morning.

“That won’t do. I didn’t go last time, so I have to dress up nicely this time. I can’t let you embarrass me,” Song Qin said earnestly.

Other parents are all dressed up nicely, and she goes in her usual work clothes, that's just not right.

Moreover, city kids are different from village kids; if Fu Zhiyi isn't dressed well, they'll look down on her.

After Fu Zhiyi finished packing, they went to school together.

Fu Zhiyi arrived at the classroom earlier than usual today because Song Qin kept urging her, so she had to speed up.

They were the first to arrive; no one else had arrived yet.

Song Qin sat in her seat, looking curiously at the classroom's layout: "I must say, the classrooms at this affiliated high school are really good."

Renting a house like that would be incredibly expensive.

Song Qin couldn't sit still. She looked at the broom at the back of the classroom and asked, "Mom, shall we sweep the floor for a while?"

Fu Zhiyi quickly stopped her: "Mom, why are you sweeping the floor all of a sudden? There are students on duty."

Song Qin pointed to the scraps of paper on the ground and frowned: "Look at the trash on the ground. It's the students on duty, and they haven't even swept it up properly."

Fu Zhiyi was extremely helpless: "Mom, they only came to sweep this morning."

Song Qin still couldn't sit still. She lowered her voice and said, "Second brother, do you think your homeroom teacher would treat you better if she saw your mother helping with the cleaning?"

"No, don't think about it." Fu Zhiyi said, somewhat amused and exasperated.

“But the trash is right next to us. If your homeroom teacher sees it, won’t she think we’re lazy, since it’s such a simple thing to do?” Song Qin thought about it more and more and felt that this wouldn’t work.

Fu Zhiyi tried to stop her, but Song Qin had already picked up the broom behind her.

Fu Zhiyi said helplessly, "Mom, you're here for a parent-teacher conference, not to clean."

"You silly girl, this is just an easy thing to do."

Fu Zhiyi sighed and stopped paying attention to her.

Just then, the homeroom teacher came in through the door with a stack of documents.

She stared at Fu Zhiyi and Song Qin for a moment, then paused.

"Is Fu Zhiyi just your parent?"

Song Qin quickly put down the broom she was holding, wiped her hands on her clothes, and looked at the homeroom teacher awkwardly: "You must be the homeroom teacher. I didn't expect you to be so young."

The homeroom teacher smiled at Song Qin: "Mrs. Fu, you're here so early."

The parent-teacher meeting was scheduled to start late today, and many students would have stayed home to catch up on sleep. She didn't expect them to arrive so early.

"Since there's nothing to do at home anyway, I might as well come to the school and take a look." Song Qin was a little nervous.

I've heard that the teachers at the affiliated high school are all very qualified, so she can't say anything wrong and offend her, otherwise what if she causes trouble for her second son later?

The teacher glanced at the broom next to Song Qin'ou and said, "Mrs. Fu, you don't need to sweep, some students are sweeping."

"It's nothing, just a quick thing," Song Qin said with a smile.

Fu Zhiyi really didn't understand why her mother was being so humble. She had already told her that doing all this was less useful than getting good grades.

They waited for a long time, and the classroom gradually filled up.

Song Qin took these parent-teacher meetings very seriously. She sat upright, while the other parents would listen from time to time, or talk or look at their phones at other times. But Song Qin wanted to write down every single word.

That's exactly why they say he studied abroad; that's so true.

At this moment, Lao Fu was playing cards again.

He didn't care about losing money; the money Song Qin sent him back was enough for him to be happy for a long time.

The room was filled with the smell of smoke, but today Old Fu felt uncomfortable all over.

"Have one." A villager next to him handed a cigarette to Lao Fu.

Old Fu shook his head: "I don't want to smoke."

The villagers looked at him as if he'd seen a ghost: "You don't even want to smoke?"

He's the biggest smoker, smoking one cigarette after another.

Old Fu frowned: "I don't know what's wrong with me these past two days, I've been feeling dizzy and can't stand the smell of smoke."

The person opposite looked at the cards in their hand, exhaled a smoke ring, and laughed, "You're acting like a woman."

Old Fu cursed at him: "Go to hell, do you think I'm being dramatic?"

The smell of smoke in the room grew stronger and stronger. Old Fu frowned, feeling a churning in his stomach.

"Stop smoking, everyone. I feel like throwing up just from the smell."

The woman next to him frowned: "Is it caused by your illness?"

The man smoking scoffed, "What do you women know? He's just injured his brain. What does the smell of smoke have to do with it?"

The woman muttered softly, "There must be a connection."

These things in the body are all interconnected.

The others still didn't put out their cigarettes, and Lao Fu was too embarrassed to bring it up again.

He looked at the cards and felt his vision blurring; acid reflux suddenly rose to his throat.

He finally managed to swallow it, but then that nauseous feeling came back up again.

Old Fu couldn't hold back any longer. He grabbed the cards and ran straight out the door. He couldn't see the road in front of him, so he ran unsteadily and almost tripped over himself.

He squatted by the field, and a gush of vomit shot out of his mouth, filling the air with a sour smell.

The woman holding the baby stood on the edge of the field and shouted, "It must be something wrong with your brain!"

Old Fu wanted to tell her she knew nothing, but he didn't even have the strength to stand up.

He knelt on the edge of the field, leaning on a short wooden stick. He remained in that position, not daring to move at all, because he would start to feel dizzy if he tried.

He lay there for a while, then vomited again.

One wave after another, Lao Fu felt like he was going to vomit until he was dehydrated. He glanced at the vomit on the ground and realized that even the food he had eaten at noon yesterday had come up.

"He probably ate something bad." The man, with a cigarette between his fingers, squatted down a short distance away, watching him.

"We're leaving now. It's not good for you to keep vomiting like this. We'll come back to your house to play cards again tomorrow."

Old Fu waved his hand, indicating that he understood.

It really is a ghost.