Under the curious gazes of many dragons and one human, the Vice Principal strode excitedly to the platform, holding Noah's composition. The homeroom teacher quickly made way.
Everyone in the Young Dragons Department knew the Melkvey family was the Vice Principal's favorite. It was no surprise he would personally attend to reading her composition.
However, once on stage, he didn't start reading immediately. Instead, he first offered an explanation.
"The reason Noah's essay isn't included in this class ranking is that our esteemed Principal of St. Heath Academy, Angelina Olette, heard of her work and family background. She wished to review Noah's composition personally."
Angelina Olette. This was the first time Leon had heard the name of the academy's principal.
If the principal didn't show up soon to assert her presence, Leon felt the Vice Principal might just usurp her position. This old dragon had an exceedingly high profile, whether at enrollment ceremonies or school events.
The Vice Principal waved the paper filled with extensive red comments, his proud demeanor suggesting it was he, not the principal, who had evaluated Noah's work.
"As expected, Noah's essay greatly pleased Principal Olette. She said if a young dragon's composition were scored out of one hundred, she would give Noah a ninety-five. Why deduct five points?"
"Because five points weren't enough?" Leon muttered silently.
The Vice Principal chuckled with satisfaction. "Because," he declared, "the principal said she didn't get enough to read!"
"Next time there's a composition, Noah must write more. She is more than willing to set aside half an hour to review Noah's work."
Ah, understood. In plain terms, it meant she was hooked.
Setting the comments aside, the Vice Principal gazed out the window, squinting beneath his white brows, and sighed. "Principal Olette's words remind me of my youth, eagerly following a serialized essay in the dragon newspaper."
"The author updated weekly. After each reading, the wait for the next felt like an eternity. It was like an 'addiction' coursing through my veins, and only the next installment could relieve it."
"I believe," he continued, "the principal may have gotten addicted while reading Noah's composition."
He turned to the homeroom teacher. "By the way, teacher, has the class ranking been announced?"
The homeroom teacher nodded. "Yes."
Hearing this, Lal's father felt a pang of alarm. He stood up quickly. "Vice Principal, you're not thinking of revoking my son Lal's first place, are you? Let me tell you, this is my son's genuine achievement. It cannot be revoked!"
His words sounded reasonable, even putting himself in a victim's position to gain sympathy.
But was his "genuine achievement" truly that genuine?
Noah's composition wasn't excluded deliberately or submitted late. It was sent to Principal Olette, who held stricter standards and higher expectations. That it received such praise spoke volumes about its quality.
If Noah had participated in the normal class evaluation, securing first place wouldn't have been an issue. Lal's "genuine achievement" would have been, at best, second place.
It was like comparing a top student and a true genius. Both score 100 on a test. The top student proudly thinks they've reached the genius's level, unaware that the genius scored 100 because the test's上限 was 100.
The only way to break this illusion is to face a more rigorous challenge, just as Noah did.
Leon, Rossweise, and many parents present understood this. But Lal's father clung desperately to that hard-won first place.
Even Lal couldn't bear it; he tugged his father's sleeve and whispered, "Dad, Noah's grades have always been better than mine. If she had participated normally, she'd probably still be first…"
Whose side are you on, kid?
Seeing this, the Vice Principal said calmly, "Please rest assured. Lal's first place is well-deserved. I will not revoke it or suppress his ranking. This is the honor he earned, and no one will take it from him."
Indeed, there was no need, Leon thought, for two reasons.
First, changing Lal's ranking would be a blow to the young dragon himself. Since the incident where he tried to bully Noah and broke his arm, he had become much more focused on his studies. Otherwise, he wouldn't have achieved first place.
As for the second reason…
From the Vice Principal's tone, it was clear that Noah's composition was simply in a league of its own. Participating in the class ranking was almost beneath it.
That's my girl. Too strong to even be ranked.
Hearing the Vice Principal's assurance, Lal's father finally quieted down.
The Vice Principal sighed in relief, then gave the homeroom teacher a knowing look.
She quickly caught on, transforming into a perfect supporter. "Vice Principal, since Noah's composition is so excellent, why not read it aloud for everyone? Noah, would you mind?"
Noah stood up. "Sure."
The Vice Principal's eyes narrowed into happy slits.
To personally read the composition of a model student from an exemplary family—what an honor!
He was eager to share this essay, which so beautifully intertwined family affection and love.
Seeing his smile, Leon and Rossweise began to sweat.
The executioner and his guillotine of social embarrassment were both ready.
The couple's hands found each other behind Noah's seat, their fingers instinctively intertwining.
Seeking comfort in solidarity?
Not quite.
They were in this together, for better or worse.
"But…" Noah spoke again, "I'd like to read it myself."
The Vice Principal was taken aback. "Yourself?"
Noah nodded earnestly. "Yes."
The couple on either side looked up at their daughter's profile.
Do you really have to, sweetheart? Must you take the guillotine from the old dragon's hands and wield it yourself?
Sigh.
Oh well.
Better to face social death by our daughter's hand than anyone else's.
They relaxed their grip slightly, fingers still linked. They leaned back in their chairs, deflating like pricked balloons.
Naturally, the Vice Principal didn't refuse. "Alright, Noah, please come up and read it."
Noah walked to the podium, took her composition, glanced down at her parents, and began to read earnestly.
"They are a loving yet peculiar couple."
"But that doesn't stop me from liking them. I like them to the core."
Her tone wasn't impassioned like the previous young dragons. It was cooler, more like Rossweise's usual demeanor. Yet within that coolness lay fervent emotion.
Every emphasis was perfectly placed—not too soft, not affected.
Especially the phrase "liking them to the core." It didn't sound like something a young dragon girl would typically say. It wasn't pretend maturity; it was her sincerest feeling for her parents.
As she continued, the couple slowly realized this wasn't an instrument of social death at all. It was a love letter from their daughter.
"It is they who made me understand that 'love' is never a gamble, but a journey. A two-way journey."
"If 'love' were a scale, then in my family, it undoubtedly tilts toward me and my sister. Because Mom and Dad have placed all their love on our side."
What they thought was a deviation from conventional "love" was, in fact, brimming with Noah's profound affection for her father, her mother, and her sister.
Perhaps "profound" shouldn't describe a child's writing, but that was the feeling she gave Leon.
In just eight hundred words, the composition quickly reached its end.
Leon thought she might offer more praise or elevate the theme further, but Noah's conclusion was different.
She simply put down the paper, her small face serious and solemn, and lowered her gaze to Leon.
Father and daughter, separated by the podium, locked eyes—one high, one low.
After a moment, Noah spoke softly,
"I have the world's best dad."
She paused, as if catching a hint of something, and quickly looked at Rossweise beside him. "And Mom."
In her composition, she had originally written: "I have the world's best dad and mom."
Compared to the metaphors and rhetoric before, this concluding sentence seemed simple.
But only Leon and Rossweise could detect the subtle shift in this sentence:
Whenever she addressed them together, she always said "Mom and Dad."
This time, she had put Dad first.