Few people truly understood what they were witnessing.
Because who could believe it?
Who could believe that a man diagnosed with terminal brain cancer—given only a year to live—could somehow survive for over ten?
Who could believe that such a man could raise the daughter of a superstar, alone, in the forgotten ravines of Iron City?
This era had grown too broad, too skeptical. Miraculous things were often brushed off with the word "luck." But this was not luck. This was will.
---
On the big screen of the Happy Family program, the scene shifted.
Sophia was just five years and five months old. She had just finished her final term in kindergarten.
At the moment of farewell, the three teachers who had cared for her could not hide their reluctance. They hugged her tightly, one after the other, as if letting go of her small hand was the hardest thing in the world.
The three young women, all gentle and lively, rubbed her head affectionately. They had never seen such a child before.
Sophia was unlike the rest.
She loved learning. She looked for problems. She tried to solve them herself.
She was empathetic and polite, always neatly dressed.
While the other children fought or cried, she would be the first to help them up, to comfort them, to mediate. She even soothed teachers when they grew overwhelmed by childish tantrums.
To these teachers, Sophia was proof that their work mattered.
"You have to study hard when you go to Iron City Primary School," one said warmly. "We know you'll be the best."
"It's hard to imagine what an incredible destiny this child has," another added.
"Yes," the third agreed, smiling through misty eyes. "This child is truly different from the others. She makes all our efforts feel worthwhile."
Their voices overlapped in praise.
---
Watching this replay, many netizens couldn't hold back their excitement.
"This is the perfect girl!"
"See? Girls are inherently stronger than boys!"
"She really has the phrase 'shine as soon as possible' carved into her bones. Even in kindergarten, she was already the favorite of the group!"
"No matter where she was born, a girl like Sophia would rise!"
They typed furiously, echoing the very amazement that those three teachers had once felt.
Because Sophia was indeed a miracle of a child.
---
The footage continued.
It was transfer day. Parents crowded the kindergarten gates, ready to take their children home.
It was an ordinary kindergarten—more than two hundred children—but only two came from the slum districts. One of them was Sophia.
Then came Victor.
He arrived on his shabby electric bike, dressed in his worn courier's uniform. His frame was thin, his skin tanned from endless hours of delivery work.
And yet—despite his rough clothing—his high nose bridge and strong features gave him an air of quiet dignity.
"Thank you for teaching Sophia," he said calmly, his voice steady.
The teachers froze. For a moment, they forgot the uniform, the cheap shoes. They saw instead a man standing straight, speaking with the gentle ease of someone well-educated. If he were in a suit, he could have passed for a scholar.
"You're welcome. It's our duty," one of the teachers murmured, lowering her head as her cheeks flushed slightly.
Victor smiled faintly. "Come on, Sophia, get on the bike."
The little girl climbed onto the seat and fastened her helmet. Her father adjusted it carefully before securing his own. Then, with a soft hum, the white electric bike rattled forward, creaking as it wove between sleek modern cars.
The sight of the two of them—an exhausted man and his tiny daughter, helmets side by side, lost in the sea of vehicles—burned itself into memory.
"Is Sophia's father really just an ordinary man?" the long-haired teacher whispered.
Another shook her head. "At least he doesn't feel ordinary. Some people, no matter how humble their clothes, can never be mistaken for common."
---
The electric bike rattled along the road, carrying them out of the city and toward the lake.
Sophia said nothing. Since she was five, she had stopped calling Victor "father." Today was no different.
When they finally left the suburbs, they arrived at a place Sophia had never seen before: Erhai Lake.
Victor parked the bike and together they walked to the shore. The water stretched endlessly, reflecting the gray sky. The waves lapped softly at their shoes.
---
On the stage of the Happy Family show, the hostess Nana gasped.
"It was here—right here—that five-year-old Sophia composed The Song Beneath the Sea!"
The audience erupted in awe.
"Yes," agreed the co-host, Hai Tao. "Perhaps Sophia had already written some lyrics, and maybe Victor sang them the night before. But this is where it truly began—you can see it!"
The big screen cut to an old interview, broadcast by Tencent News years earlier. Sophia had been just five at the time, standing on a small stage with her hair in pigtails. She smiled brightly, confidence shining through her young face, enough to light up the dark auditorium.
The reporter asked, "Sophia, how did you compose The Song Beneath the Sea?"
The little girl giggled and replied, "I went to Erhai Lake. I saw so many people there, and I heard so many voices. That's when I wrote it."
That moment, captured on film, immortalized her name.
It was the moment the world began to call her:
The five-year-old goddess child prodigy.
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