Hard work after winning the lottery

Si Tao, on the other hand, clenched her little fists tightly, her stubbornness even in her sleep showing a defiant spirit.

Hua Yun chuckled, bent down, and placed a gentle kiss on each of their smooth foreheads.

Goodnight, my little heroes.

The first rays of morning sunlight streamed through the window, scattering into golden spots that danced on the floor.

Baixi Village awakens from its tranquility.

Smoke from cooking fires, barking dogs, and the cheerful laughter of children intertwine to create a vibrant morning symphony.

As Hua Yun and the children walked to the gate of the courtyard, they encountered a small group of people.

It was Aunt Li's grandson, Dundun, and several other four- or five-year-old children from the village.

They were all wearing the same style of vests as those worn by the town's kindergarten, carrying small backpacks with cartoon patterns, and were lined up, led by Secretary Zhang's wife, walking towards the village entrance to wait for the school bus.

"Hello, Aunt Yunyun!"

The children greeted them in their childish voices.

Hua Yun smiled and responded to each of them, but her gaze fell on the small schoolbags swaying behind them.

Her three sons have also reached this age.

This thought, like a pebble thrown into a calm lake, rippled through Hua Yun's heart.

With a stable career and children growing up, it's time to let them explore a wider world, learn, socialize, and have their own little groups.

The kindergarten issue can't be delayed any longer.

However, the thought of this brings back a flood of memories of that failed attempt a year ago, so vivid it feels like it happened just yesterday.

That year, the triplets had just turned three years old.

To help them get familiar with the environment in advance, Hua Yun specially chose a sunny afternoon and drove them to the best-reputed kindergarten in town.

At the time, she thought that for her three audacious and socially adept sons, this would be nothing more than an easy and enjoyable "field trip".

But reality gave her a resounding slap in the face.

As soon as the car came to a stop in front of the kindergarten, sharp, incessant cries pierced through the windows, like countless tiny needles pricking the ears of the three little ones.

It was after their afternoon nap, and some newly enrolled children were desperately searching for their mothers.

Hua Yun still remembers the expressions on her three sons' faces when she opened the car door.

Curiosity and excitement froze in an instant.

Instead, there is a sense of wariness and unease, like that of a small animal venturing into unfamiliar territory.

In the kindergarten, the walls are painted in various colors, and the slide is shaped like a cute giraffe; everything is designed to create a fairytale atmosphere.

But this deliberate brilliance was washed away by the overwhelming sense of unfamiliarity and the fear of separation that permeated the air, leaving it a pale white.

A young teacher came up to us with a professional, almost sickeningly sweet smile on her face.

"Oh my, triplets! They're so cute!"

She crouched down and tried to touch Sile's face, which was closest to her.

But before she could even touch him, the little guy, who was usually so friendly with everyone, suddenly dodged behind Hua Yun like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, clinging tightly to her leg and burying his face in her trouser leg, refusing to look up no matter what.

The usually composed eldest son, Si'an, had a tense expression on his face, his little hands gripping Hua Yun's clothes so tightly that his knuckles turned white. His eyes quickly scanned everything around him—the crying child, the unfamiliar teacher, the tall wall; his gaze didn't seem like he was on a visit, but rather assessing a dangerous environment.

What surprised Hua Yun the most was the third son, Si Tao.

This fearless troublemaker was now completely silent. He didn't hide, nor did he observe; he simply tilted his head back, staring intently at Hua Yun with an almost obsessive gaze, as if confirming whether she would leave him alone in this terrifying place.

In less than ten minutes, Hua Yun managed to escape with her three sons in a disheveled state.

The car was deathly silent on the way back.

In the back seat of the car seat, three little heads drooped, and none of them spoke.

Looking in the rearview mirror, Hua Yun saw the three of them huddled together, holding hands, like three frightened little quails.

That silence made Hua Yun more anxious than any crying or fussing.

That night, while putting them to bed, Hua Yun tried to salvage the situation.

She wanted to use a relaxed tone to paint a beautiful new picture for the kindergarten.

"Kids, wasn't that big slide at kindergarten even more fun than the one in our yard?"

She spoke gently.

Her response was a three-second pause.

Then, the atmosphere exploded.

The first to break down was the second son, Hua Sile.

His tears fell like beads from a broken string, "plop plop".

He suddenly sat up in bed, grabbed Hua Yun's arm, and clung to it, sobbing uncontrollably.

"I don't want to go!"

"I don't want to go down the slide! I want my mom! I want to stay home with my mom, my grandma, and my great-grandpa!"

His cries were filled with the purest fear, as if the words "kindergarten" were some kind of man-eating monster.

Hua Yun's heart clenched instantly. Just as she was about to offer some words of comfort, her eldest sister, Si An, asked a question in a childish voice with a thick nasal tone that almost took her breath away.

He didn't cry, but his eyes were red like a rabbit's.

He looked at Hua Yun cautiously, his eyes filled with grievance and confusion.

"Mother……"

He sniffed, his voice trembling.

"Are we naughty? Do you not want us anymore?"

These words struck Hua Yun's heart like a heavy hammer.

She then realized that in the children's innocent world, sending them to a strange place was tantamount to abandonment.

Before she could explain, the third brother, Si Tao, who had been silent all along, mustered all his strength and squeezed out an angry declaration from his throat.

He didn't cry, nor did he ask why.

He simply declared loudly, his face flushed red, his neck stiff, with a resolute air:

"I! Hate! Kindergarten!"

He looked as if he would fight anyone who mentioned those three words again.

Huayun was completely at a loss.

She held the three little ones tightly in her arms, kissing their foreheads and cheeks again and again, explaining incoherently.

"Of course it's not that Mommy doesn't want you anymore."

"Mom loves you all the most."

"Every child grows up, goes to school, makes new friends, and learns new skills..."

But all her reasoning seemed so pale and powerless in the face of the children's immense and insurmountable fear.

They simply wouldn't listen.

They simply held her tightly, as if she were the only piece of driftwood in a vast ocean.

That night, the first communication regarding the kindergarten ended in a complete defeat for Huayun.