Twenty minutes later, all the young dragons and their parents had gathered.
The homeroom teacher stepped onto the platform, smiling and nodding. "Thank you, parents, for taking time from your busy schedules to attend our class's essay award ceremony."
After the opening remarks, she went straight to the point.
"The essays submitted this time were all outstanding. Each student offered a unique perspective on 'family,' which is truly commendable."
"I've written detailed comments on every essay. You can collect them to review after the ceremony."
"Now, I have the three essays with the highest overall scores. I will announce their authors and, following their wishes, decide whether to read them aloud."
After explaining the procedure, the families began whispering, eager to know if their child was in the top three.
However, according to the teacher's approach, even those who didn't make the top three could learn from the feedback to improve their writing.
"Alright, I'll now announce the third-place winner for the Class One essay competition… and it's… Kaeli! Congratulations~" The homeroom teacher led the applause, and the class joined in.
"So, Kaeli, would you like to read your essay?" the teacher asked gently.
Kaeli, a small young dragon with a simple ponytail and round glasses, stood up. Her mother stood beside her, holding her hand in encouragement.
Kaeli's other hand nervously gripped her skirt. After a moment's hesitation, she shyly shook her head. "No, thank you, teacher."
Kaeli's mother smiled understandingly, showing no reproach for her daughter's shyness.
The teacher smiled. "Alright, everyone. Don't be fooled by Kaeli's quiet nature. Her essay is full of love for her mother. Here, Kaeli, take your essay back."
Kaeli walked to the platform with small steps, received her essay with both hands, and whispered, "Thank you, teacher."
The teacher affectionately ruffled her hair.
Kaeli held her essay close to her chest and returned to her seat.
"Now, it's time to announce the second-place winner. His name is…" Only two spots remained. The trio of Leon felt a nervous anticipation.
They stared at the teacher's mouth, trying to see if the first letter of the name was not 'N'.
"Congratulations, Randal!" Another round of applause followed.
Randal, a relatively outgoing young dragon, stepped onto the platform and read his essay with passion.
Leon clapped along with the others, murmuring anxiously, "Only one spot left now…"
He glanced at his daughter, Noah, who looked extremely nervous, her small fists clenched tightly.
Leon thought for a moment and gently covered her hand with his own. He didn't speak, but Noah's tense fist relaxed slightly.
"Now, for the first-place winner of the essay competition. And the winner is…" The teacher drew out the suspense, the entire room holding its breath.
Lal's father, in particular, seemed eager to pry the teacher's mouth open to hear the name.
"Lal! Congratulations, Lal!" Before the teacher could even ask if Lal wanted to read his essay, his father stood up, unable to contain his excitement.
"Thank you, teacher, thank you! Lal's first-place achievement is all thanks to you. However, since the essay theme was family and affection, I must say I've contributed quite a bit myself," Lal's father boasted, unable to restrain himself.
Listening to him, Leon felt conflicted. He hadn't expected their unconventional "parental love" story would fail to place…
It was quite a surprise.
But as for disappointment, that was something to process later in private.
Leon focused on comforting his daughter. "It's okay, Noah. Later, we'll look at the teacher's comments, correct any mistakes, and bring out the best in your writing."
Rossweise also held her daughter's hand. "Maybe Mommy and Daddy didn't perform well enough on our date. We'll work harder together next time."
Though Noah couldn't hide her disappointment, she was a sensible child. She knew her parents had put great effort into her essay. She nodded.
"Mommy, Daddy, you've already done great. Don't say that."
Rossweise smiled and ruffled her daughter's hair.
Meanwhile, Lal's father was still basking in his triumph. The homeroom teacher had to interrupt him. "Lal's dad, would you like Lal to read his essay now?"
"Read it! Of course, read it! Lal, go on, read it to your classmates."
Lal's father was supremely confident in his child's work. After all, it had won first place. How could he not be?
Lal nodded earnestly, stood up, walked to the platform, and began to read.
Lal: "The title is 'The Silent Father's Love.'"
Lal's father chimed in, "See? Just the title alone is so profound, isn't it?" The other parents nearby could only politely agree, "Yes, yes, indeed."
"My father is a Duke of the Crimson Flame Dragon clan. He's always too busy to play games with me or teach me my studies."
"But I know my dad is busy with work. He actually loves me very much; he's just not good at expressing it."
Lal read his essay on stage while his father listened with relish below, praising nearly every sentence.
As Lal reached the middle section, it connected to the theme of "Silent Father's Love."
"I remember once I got into trouble at school. When I came home, I thought Dad would scold me, but he didn't. The next day, I asked Dad to teach me some simple magic as usual, but he seemed a bit strange."
As Lal's father listened to this part, his smile froze, as if he realized something.
"Dad didn't refuse me. He started teaching me how to use small-scale dragon flames, but before long, he was sweating heavily and could barely stand."
"I only found out later that Dad had injured his knee around that time."
"I asked him how it happened. He said he accidentally bumped into a very hard rock while hunting and needed a couple of days to recover."
"But back then, to keep me from worrying and to let me focus on learning magic, Dad chose silence. He chose to endure."
"That is the silent father's love!"
Listening from below, Leon's initially dampened spirits lifted slightly. So this is what 'silent father's love' means.
Child, you need to understand—being silenced by others and choosing silence yourself are two completely different things.
But Lal's little essay was indeed well-written, with smooth prose and neat handwriting, which explained why it won first place.
After all, one couldn't expect a masterpiece from a seven or eight-year-old young dragon.
After Lal finished, he looked at his father with sparkling eyes. Even if he had lightly jabbed at his father's knee, it didn't matter.
First place!
His boy had won first place!
Lal's father stood up, giving his acceptance speech. "Lal, Dad does love you silently. Today, you've repaid me with such a vivid essay. Even if my other knee gets injured, it's worth it!"
Leon couldn't help but turn his head at such a bold statement. As he did, he met Lal's father's gaze.
Lal's father sneered disdainfully at him, as if he would mock him openly if not for the classroom setting.
Now he's getting carried away. Maybe I should just break his other knee for him later, Leon thought.
Rossweise tugged at Leon's sleeve and whispered, "Out of sight, out of mind."
Leon shrugged and looked away.
Lal's father wanted to continue teasing Leon's family, but at that moment, the homeroom teacher interjected, "Oh, by the way, one student's essay isn't with me, so it didn't participate in this ranking."
With that, the attention of the class shifted from Lal's father back to the teacher.
Hearing there was another contender, Lal's father stopped his bragging.
As for Leon, the phrase "didn't participate in the ranking" made him think of something. Could it be that his daughter's work had surpassed the young dragon level and was no longer ranked among the children?
Sure enough, the homeroom teacher lowered her gaze to the front row closest to the platform. "Noah, it's you."
Noah's eyes, previously dim with disappointment, lit up again. "Th-then where is my essay?"
Before the teacher could answer, the classroom door suddenly swung open.
"Noah C. Melkvey's essay is here!"
The white-haired old dragon held up the two pages, panting as if he'd forgotten his age. Perhaps only the exemplary students of his institution could excite him so.
Looking at the Vice Principal, Leon couldn't help but feel a sense of resignation:
The executioner may be late, but he never misses his cue!
And in his hands, he might just be holding the very instruments of social torture!