Chapter 27: An Unexpected Delight

What a delightful surprise! Huang Guolun never expected that Huang Tao would actually believe Bai Yao was the Snow Witch. Usually, it was this kid outsmarting others, but now he’d been thoroughly outmaneuvered himself! Although this lie would likely be exposed soon enough, it was worth keeping Huang Tao fooled for a while, sparing everyone from his usual antics.

Huang Guolun, carrying Huang Tao on his back, kept signaling to Bai Yao, urging her to keep the ruse going. Bai Yao had only meant to play a little joke, but once Huang Tao fell for it and truly treated her as the Snow Witch, she resolved to see the performance through, as her teacher requested.

With her overwhelming intellect, Bai Yao spun a tightly-woven tale of witch secrecy rules, strictly forbidding Huang Tao from telling anyone; only he and his father could know. She presented facts so logically sound that Huang Tao was utterly convinced, his mind caught in a web of reasoning he couldn’t untangle. Huang Guolun, adding fuel to the fire, watched as Huang Tao was completely hoodwinked by an adult and a brilliant elder sister.

After repeatedly falling into Bai Yao’s logical traps, Huang Tao became even more certain of her identity. Though the secrecy rules forbade Bai Yao from using magic in daily life—her powers weren’t as potent as those of the old witch in “Ice Storm”—Huang Tao still yearned to see her perform real magic.

When Huang Tao begged Bai Yao for a magic show, Huang Guolun chimed in, “If you behave, Bai Yao will show you some magic.”

“I’m not misbehaving! I haven’t caused any trouble all afternoon; I didn’t even hide Dudu’s meat. I’ve been so well-behaved! Bai Yao, please break the rule and show me a little magic. It doesn’t have to be anything big, just turn Dudu into a popsicle for me!”

Dudu, sensing the conversation, shivered and immediately ran off with his food box.

“Don’t run, Dudu! Let Bai Yao turn you into a popsicle!” Huang Tao made to chase him, but Huang Guolun stopped him. “Leave Dudu alone.”

“I’m not messing with him, I want to turn him into a popsicle,” Huang Tao insisted.

Bai Yao laughed, “Dudu is so adorable, why do you want him as a popsicle?”

“He’s too fat. Fat dogs get laughed at. If you turn him into a popsicle, I’ll use a hairdryer to melt him, and when he turns back, he’ll be skinny.”

Bai Yao couldn’t help but smile. “That’s quite a creative weight-loss plan, but I can’t use my magic so casually.”

“But you’d be helping! Why not use it?” Huang Tao’s big, mischievous eyes brimmed with innocence and confusion.

Bai Yao explained, “It’s a matter of principle. Just as you have to listen to your teachers in kindergarten, we Snow Witches must follow the secrecy rules, or we’ll be punished.”

Huang Tao’s eyes lit up, “I can secretly not listen in kindergarten, as long as the teachers don’t catch me, I won’t get punished. You can secretly use magic, as long as no one knows!”

Huang Guolun suddenly asked, “Do you really want to see Bai Yao’s magic?”

“I really, really do!”

Lunch was nearly over; it was time for Huang Tao’s nap. Huang Guolun set a condition: “Alright, after you see it, you go straight to bed.”

“Okay! As soon as I see it, I’ll go nap!”

Huang Guolun turned to Bai Yao, “Bai Yao, perhaps you could show him the Mind Transmission technique.”

Huang Tao asked curiously, “What’s Mind Transmission?”

Bai Yao was puzzled, unsure what Huang Guolun was up to.

He explained, “Mind Transmission is even more powerful than turning Dudu into a popsicle. Bai Yao can transmit thoughts and words directly into someone’s mind.”

Huang Tao, half understanding, sighed, “That sounds amazing.”

Huang Guolun continued, “But this magic can’t be used on children—you’re too weak to handle it. It can be used on me, though.”

“How does it work?” Huang Tao pressed.

Huang Guolun said, “For example, if you two chat here and I don’t listen in, I’ll go to the studio to talk to your uncle. We’ll be far enough apart—I certainly won’t hear what you say. When I return, Bai Yao will use Mind Transmission to pass your conversation to me, and I’ll tell you what you said. Isn’t that impressive?”

Huang Tao thought it over, finding it incredible. If it worked, it really was magic! He nodded eagerly, “Impressive!”

“Then you two chat here, I’ll go see your uncle. When I come back, we’ll do the Mind Transmission. Then you must nap!”

Huang Guolun picked up his phone from the table and headed to the studio. Huang Tao, wary that his father might try to eavesdrop, followed him like a shadow, checking the studio door to ensure it was tightly shut. Only when he was sure Huang Guolun couldn’t hear did he return to chat with his big sister.

Bai Yao was initially confused, but when she saw Huang Guolun take his phone, she realized how the Mind Transmission would work. While Huang Tao followed his father away from the table, Bai Yao quietly opened WeChat and sent a video chat invitation to Huang Guolun, then slipped her phone into her pocket. As soon as he accepted, he’d hear everything they said.

Huang Guolun hadn’t planned to cheat this way—his hearing was so good that, even with the studio door closed, he could easily overhear the living room conversation. The recording booth was fully soundproofed, but the outer studio was less so. Yet, seeing Bai Yao’s invitation, he thought, “She’s smart,” and accepted, turning the volume down and pocketing his phone, so his own studio noise wouldn’t be transmitted.

Huang Tao, of course, had no inkling of their cunning. Delighted, he returned to the table and offered Bai Yao a post-meal yogurt, charming her, “Bai Yao, drink your yogurt! It helps digestion after eating.”

“Thank you, Little Peach,” Bai Yao replied sweetly.

“No need, you’re my big sister. I’ll need you to look after me in the future.”

“If you want me to, you have to be good and not make your dad angry.”

“Well… I’ll try my best. My grandpa says overly obedient children amount to nothing, so I don’t really want to be too good.”

Bai Yao was left speechless by his reasoning.

“Since the Witch Secrecy Rules say you can’t talk about witch stuff, let’s not mention it. Walls have ears, and you might get into trouble.”

“Alright, let’s talk about something else.”

“Bai Yao, I’m curious—your hair is so short, did you cut it to donate to children with cancer?”

The question took Bai Yao by surprise. She asked, “Why do you say that?”

“I saw a news story on TV about a kid in Pudong who started growing his hair at eight and refused to cut it. He only cut it when his school made him, and then he donated over fifty centimeters of hair to make wigs for children with cancer. He did it because he saw on TV that those kids were suffering, and his mom explained it to him. He wanted to help them, so he grew his hair.”

Bai Yao felt her heart warm. Huang Guolun was always saying Huang Tao learned nonsense from TV, but clearly, there was goodness in him as well.

“I tried growing my hair to help others too, but because I’m chubby and my scalp gets oily, it was always sticky and ugly, so I cut it off. If my hair didn’t get oily, I’d grow it long to help those kids.”

“You’re so kind, Little Peach,” Bai Yao said, sipping her yogurt.

“So what about your hair, Bai Yao?”

“Well… it’s witch-related, I can’t say much.”

“I see.” Huang Tao gave a knowing look, as if he’d discovered a secret, and didn’t press further.

This boy loved telling jokes, since it made people find him adorable. He wanted his big sister to think he was super cute, so she would look after him more.

He pulled out his best material. “Bai Yao, let me tell you a joke.”

“Alright, go ahead.”

“You might have heard it before: there was once a fool who always said ‘no’—no matter what people asked.”

He paused, “Have you heard this joke before?”

Bai Yao set her yogurt down, her eyes twinkling mischievously. “I think you’ve told me that one before.”

“No, no, I haven’t told you! … Oh no, I tricked myself.” Huang Tao’s rare look of frustration appeared.

Bai Yao laughed, her expression saying: “You little rascal, trying to outwit me? Not a chance.”

Huang Tao grinned, “Old ginger is spicier after all. You’re so smart, Bai Yao.”

“I’m a witch, of course I’m smart. Don’t think you can outsmart me.”

“I wouldn’t dare! Let me tell you a proper joke. This one I’ve never told anyone, not even my dad. Let’s see if he can repeat it later.”

Bai Yao secretly touched her phone in her pocket, thinking, “Of course your dad can repeat it; he’s listening right now!”

Huang Tao, unaware that he was being listened to, lowered his voice and told Bai Yao the story vividly: “This happened when my grandma took me out for grilled fish. The shop owner knew her and was really friendly, telling us their grilled fish was made the traditional way, marinated overnight in urine. I was stunned—urine! They actually used urine to marinate fish! Then I figured, with so many different regions in China, maybe it tastes good if you wash it well. Then the owner said their region’s marinade was special, requiring at least ten types of fragrant urine… fragrant… urine…”

“Pfft.” Bai Yao was amused, “I think he meant spices.”

“Yes, the owner was secretly a big-tongued speaker.”

Bai Yao was thoroughly entertained, “Let me tell you one, too.”

“Great! I love jokes.”

“It’s not exactly a joke, but I found it interesting. When I was in middle school, our Chinese teacher was quite a character. One day, the class was noisy, so he stopped and said, ‘I killed someone in my past life, that’s why Heaven punished me by making me a Chinese teacher. Please don’t make me suffer this fate again in my next life.’ After that, everyone paid close attention in his class, no one dared to act up. Ha!”

Huang Tao’s takeaway was unique: “Did your teacher really kill someone in his last life?”

“That, I don’t know. Who can tell what happened in a past life?”

Huang Tao mused, “I feel like I know, but I don’t. Anyway, I don’t think this is my first life.”

“You have quite the imagination.”

Bai Yao grew more fond of this quirky, watermelon-shirted little boy. She loved spending time with such unique people.

Huang Tao stopped imagining and continued with his jokes: “Here’s a gem from my kindergarten days. Last year, a business leader came to present awards. When he called the next winner, he paused, then awkwardly announced: ‘The next child to be honored is—Wooden Stick.’ All the kids looked at each other; there was no one named Wooden Stick. Even the teachers were confused. Finally, our teacher guessed that he meant Lin Kun. Ever since, we’ve called Lin Kun ‘Brother Wooden Stick.’ Ha ha.”

“Ha ha,” Bai Yao laughed along. “I’ll tell you another. There was a big oaf in our class named Zhang Liang. He once ate poop in your dad’s class.”

“What?” Huang Tao was shocked, “How hungry do you have to be to eat poop?”

“He wasn’t hungry, just lacking intelligence. It’s a funny story… Actually, ask your dad when you’re not eating. I won’t tell it now, or we’ll both be disgusted.”

“No, Bai Yao, please tell it! I really want to hear!”

Huang Tao was eager for the story of the poop-eater.

Seeing his enthusiasm, Bai Yao recounted Zhang Liang’s legendary deed in detail.

While the two traded jokes, Huang Guolun listened in from the studio, chuckling to himself as he discussed film music with Huang Guokun, his spirits lifted by the children’s laughter.