Quick Transmigration: My First Female Skill Takes Effect

Two years later.

In September 1968, the school resumed classes.

Six-year-old Wang Qi is taking a third-grade exam in the principal's office.

Two hours later.

The Chinese and math papers were handed in to the principal; yes, only two subjects were tested.

"Mom, Aunt Qi." Wang Qi walked towards Zhang Yanzi and Principal Qi, who were waiting for her at the door. The two had taken leave to accompany her during the exam.

Zhang Yanzi just patted her head and didn't even ask how the exam went.

Because she has confidence.

If Bao'er weren't so young, she wouldn't be taking the exam in elementary school; she would be taking people directly to the middle school exam.

Principal Qi asked with concern, "Have you finished practicing your calligraphy?"

"not yet."

"Come to my house later and pick up two more books. Good handwriting makes a good first impression, so you should practice more," she instructed.

Wang Qi: "Okay."

She doesn't find studying difficult.

As they were talking, the teacher inside came out with her test score: 100 in both subjects. The principal welcomed her to the school and assigned her to Class 1, Grade 3.

Before leaving, they even gave us free paper and pens.

Wang Qi accepted it without hesitation.

After leaving the school and returning to the neighborhood where the machinery factory was located, Wang Qi first went to Principal Qi's house. Zhang Yanzi did not come with her; Wang Qi went by herself.

"Take these two books and practice writing two pages a day."

"it is good."

Principal Qi then took out a blue box from the drawer, opened it, and found a gold fountain pen inside.

She then took out a bottle of ink.

They handed it to Wang Qi: "Here, take this." Six years old is just right for practicing calligraphy.

Wang Qi: "Thank you, Aunt Qi."

Thanks to her growing taller, she carefully took down the inkstone, unscrewed it, and brought it close to her nose. It didn't smell bad; it had a faint lavender scent.

She gave Principal Qi a bright smile, then screwed the bottle cap back on and put the pen into the box.

I picked up her schoolbag from the sofa, intending to put the calligraphy practice book inside.

Bang bang bang.

Footsteps approached.

"You took my things again?"

Wang Qi didn't need to look up to guess who was speaking.

"Feng Jianqi, are you itching for a beating again?" Principal Qi's smiling face vanished, and he looked sternly at the four-year-old child standing at the study door.

Hearing his mother's scolding, Feng Jianqi puffed out his cheeks indignantly, as he hadn't said anything wrong.

This person took everything he wanted; his mother wouldn't give it to him, so she gave it to a stranger.

Wang Qi didn't argue with the children, especially Aunt Qi's children. What he said was actually right, but Aunt Qi liked what she gave them.

"Bao'er, don't take his words to heart. It's my business if I'm willing to give you my things," Principal Qi explained.

Wang Qi: "I know, but I won't take it to heart."

She deliberately and carefully placed the pen case, ink, and calligraphy practice book into her schoolbag, glancing out of the corner of her eye at Feng Jianqi, who was staring at her with wide eyes.

I wanted her to feel ashamed and put the things down on her own.

Wang Qi: "..."

She's six years old now, and she doesn't play the same tricks she did when she was three.

Reaching the door, he took a piece of candy from his pocket and handed it to Feng Jianqi: "Little brother, here, have this."

No one can match her in terms of poise and confidence.

Sure enough, Feng Jianqi's belly swelled up, inflating and deflating like a leaky balloon, but he dared not knock the candy away.

Because his mother would spank him.

He held the candy in his hand, wanting to crush it, but he simply didn't have the strength.

Looking up, he saw his mother staring at him with a stern gaze.

Feng Jianqi sniffed, a hint of grievance in his voice, and uttered the two words he didn't want to say: "...Thank you." One should be polite.

Wang Qi's eyebrows and eyes were curved.

She reached out and patted his head, like a caring older sister: "You're welcome."

She turned and waved to Director Wang, "Aunt Qi, I'm leaving."

"Okay, slow down, don't run, don't bump your head."

The words of admonition hadn't even faded when the person had already vanished. Principal Qi looked at Feng Jianqi with a mixture of annoyance and headache: "What are you up to now? Did you run back from the kindergarten?"

She glanced at her watch, which showed 11:20.

Feng Jianqi snorted, "I'm going back to kindergarten."

He heard the day before yesterday that Wang Qi was going to skip a grade and that her mother was going to give her calligraphy practice books, so he deliberately tried to cause trouble and protect his family's things.

Unexpectedly, they arrived too late and were unable to hide the items beforehand.

As Principal Qi watched his retreating figure, thinking about his head, she felt a headache coming on again.

This name was chosen in vain.

Ten minutes later.

When Wang Qi returned to her home, it was her newly moved-in home, no longer the two 30-square-meter room in the tenement courtyard.

Her new home is a new house built by the machinery factory six months ago. It's a 50-square-meter apartment on the third floor, which has been renovated into a four-bedroom, one-living-room house.

"mom."

Before even entering the house, she shouted directly into the room.

No one responded from inside the house.

Wang Qi went to the living room and found no one there. Her mother hadn't returned yet, so she shook her head and went back to her own room.

A short while later, Zhang Yanzi returned with a basket.

Inside is freshly bought food.

Wang Qi's door was open, and Zhang Yanzi called out, "Bao'er, come out for dinner."

"Hey, here I am."

If someone isn't enthusiastic about eating, there's something wrong with their thinking.

Wang Qi had washed her hands clean in a minute. When she walked to the table, she saw braised pork, which she loved, braised beef, which she loved even more, and beef stew with potatoes, which she also loved.

In addition to the three meat dishes, there was also a vegetarian dish of smashed cucumber.

The remaining dishes were three bowls of rice and a soup made with fried tofu and vermicelli.

"Mom, these are all my favorite dishes. Thank you, Mom, you're so kind." She didn't spoil the mood, saying that the two of them couldn't finish the food.

If we can't finish it, we'll share the leftovers with the rest of the family that evening.

Zhang Yanzi: "Eat as much as you like. You're at the age where you need to use your brain, so don't neglect it."

"Uh-huh."

Lunch was plentiful, and Wang Qi ate until her stomach was bulging. While Zhang Yanzi was cleaning up the leftovers, she reminded her, "Mom, remember to give the braised pork I left to Dad tonight."

She is a filial child.

Zhang Yanzi: "Don't worry, I won't forget. You're such a filial son."

She wasn't being sarcastic; she just genuinely believed it.

"Waaaaah."

Wang Tiezhu shed tears on the table. He knew that Bao'er was someone who liked to eat alone. Although she would occasionally share with him, that was only when he saw it.

To his utter surprise, even when he couldn't see her, Bao'er was still thinking of him.

"My precious son is so filial."

Apart from Zhang Yanzi and Bao'er themselves, who could empathize with him, the other four people at the table could not at all.

However, since these three were the pillars of the family, they held the reins of the finances.

I could only cooperate and try not to show my speechless expression.

Wang Chaomei not only cooperated, but also engaged in internal competition.

"Mom, Bao'er is so smart, she skipped directly to the third grade. If you ask me, it's because Bao'er is still young, otherwise she would be in junior high school by now."

Bao'er is very capable; she doesn't need to take over her parents' jobs.

And he was the eldest son of the Wang family.

Yes, it is necessary.

Wang Chaomei was slightly worried, unsure whether her parents could understand the hidden meaning in his words.