Lucky Golden Dragon in the 80s: My Dad? I Switched Him for a Better One

It was a small, chubby fist that didn’t look very threatening.

But it swung out with a vicious force.

It landed squarely on the side of Yang Wenxuan’s face. SMACK! Everyone froze.

Yang Wenxuan was chubby and tall.

But when it came to actual fights, Shanshan had already put him in his place several times.

His soft, pudgy build couldn’t take a single punch from her.

They had fought once before at a family gathering over a toy, and it had ended with Yang Wenxuan running crying to his mother.

This time was no exception.

He never imagined Shanshan would actually dare to hit him. Caught completely off guard, he clutched his face and staggered back a few steps.

He immediately burst into loud wails, tears and snot smearing his entire face.

His wails were shrill and exaggerated, and he screamed between sobs.

"Waaah, she hit me! She hit me in the face! It hurts so much! Waaaaah—I want to go to the hospital!"

A mixture of drool and tears dripped from his chin onto his collar.

Hearing their son’s miserable cries, Yang Wenxuan’s parents immediately pushed through the crowd.

Mr. and Mrs. Yang, who had been chatting with other relatives, looked horrified.

Mrs. Yang was in such a panic she forgot her purse, caring only to bend down and examine her son’s face.

"What’s wrong? Why are you crying so hard?"

Mr. Yang’s brow furrowed. He crouched down to say a few comforting words, but when he saw that his son’s face was indeed a little red, he was immediately filled with rage.

"Oh, my poor baby! Why is your face red? Let Mommy see!"

Mrs. Yang gasped, her heart aching for him. As she wiped his face with a handkerchief, she repeatedly checked to see if it was swelling up.

It was as if she wanted everyone in the room to hear how wronged she felt.

Clutching his face and sobbing, Yang Wenxuan still remembered to point at Shanshan.

"She’s the one who hit me! Mommy, it hurts so much! Waaah."

"Who is this little lunatic? Hitting someone in front of all these people! Were you raised in a barn?"

Mrs. Yang was furious and shot to her feet.

She didn’t bother asking what happened or listening to anyone who tried to calm her down; her only thought was to avenge her son.

"Don’t be so hasty. We haven’t even figured out what happened yet."

Ding Qin stepped in front of Shanshan, her gaze steady.

She bent down slightly, shielding Shanshan.

"When children have a conflict, we adults need to get the story straight before we start assigning blame."

"Shanshan, don’t be afraid, Grandma’s here. Tell Grandma, why did you do that? Who provoked you?"

Ding Qin knelt, looking at Shanshan with a gaze that was both gentle and firm. Her voice was soft, yet it carried a comforting weight that couldn’t be ignored.

As she spoke, she gently took Shanshan’s small, cold hand in her own.

"Grandma’s right here, so don’t be afraid. Just tell me what happened. Who made you feel this way? Which naughty child was bullying you? Grandma will make it right."

Shanshan’s voice was trembling badly.

"He called me a common pheasant that could never become a phoenix! And he said Grandpa and Grandma would kick me out sooner or later! He... he even pulled my braid! My second sister-in-law spent all morning braiding it for me!"

Her eyes were red-rimmed, and her lips trembled slightly.

She looked down at her braid, its end now messy and undone.

The once-neat braid had been pulled half undone.

Her second sister-in-law had woken up before dawn, yawning as she carefully combed and plaited it for her.

As soon as she finished speaking, her eyes reddened, and tears began to fall, DRIP, DROP.

The teardrops rolled down one after another, slipping past her cheeks and into her collar.

Ding Qin’s heart softened, and she immediately pulled the girl into her arms, patting her back gently.

She quickly stood up, scooping Shanshan into her arms. One arm wrapped around the girl’s small frame while the other hand gently stroked her back.

"Don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid. Grandma’s here, and no one can make you leave. You’re our family’s little phoenix, and I won’t hear a word against it!"

From the crowd, an old man leaning on a cane slowly emerged and gave a heavy cough.

All the chatter and laughter died instantly. The guests turned, their gazes falling upon the old man who was slowly making his way forward.

He was wearing a dark gray tunic suit.

"Good for you for hitting him, little girl! A little brat with a foul mouth who yanks on pigtails needs to be taught a harsh lesson!"

He stood in the middle of the room, thumping his cane on the floor with a dull THUD that sounded like a final judgment.

"A child doesn’t start down the wrong path by using their fists; it starts with a wicked tongue! That child hurt her with his words, then laid his hands on her. This is not something to be taken lightly!"

"Dad! How can you side with an outsider?"

Yang Wenxuan’s mother protested.

"He only said a couple of things! Was there any reason to hit him?"

She shot to her feet, her face flushing crimson.

She pointed in Shanshan’s direction, her voice rising in pitch.

"What kind of girl hits someone over a few words? How will that look to everyone else?"

"A few words? Do you think his words were meaningless? What he spewed was contempt!"

"Looking down on others is the greatest of evils! I don’t care if it’s a child or an adult, I will not indulge it! Go on, ask your son. Did he say a common pheasant can’t become a phoenix? Did he pull her braid? If he did, then he deserved to be hit! He’s lucky she went easy on him!"

At these words, Ling Zhenkang and his wife exchanged a look, and the anger in their eyes suddenly vanished.

The deep furrow in Ling Zhenkang’s brow gradually smoothed out.

He was silent for a moment before letting out a slow sigh.

Yang Wenxuan was dragged over by his grandfather to apologize to Shanshan.

Pushed in front of Shanshan, he kept his head down, face beet-red, and mumbled under his breath.

"Say it so we can hear you!"

the old man barked.

Yang Wenxuan finally broke, forcing out the words through sobs.

"I... I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called you names, and I shouldn’t have pulled your braid... I was wrong."

His parents looked at the old man’s livid face and didn’t dare to utter a single word.

After a moment of silence, the guests raised their glasses once more, and the sound of laughter returned.

The adults resumed drinking, clinking glasses, and chatting merrily.

On the surface, the banquet had returned to its lively state.

But beneath the merriment, an unspoken awkwardness lingered.

Among the children, however, the atmosphere was strange.

Several boys huddled together, whispering and occasionally glancing over at Shanshan.

Fear was written all over their faces.

Who had ever seen a girl start a fight without even blinking an eye?

Yang Wenxuan had staggered backward from the punch, and the corner of his mouth was already turning red.

The children all thought the same thing.

’This girl is terrifying!’

’We can’t ever mess with her!’

They instinctively kept their distance from her.

Shanshan leisurely ate her cake, not sparing them so much as a sideways glance.

She paid no attention to the other children, nor did she care what they thought.

Growing up, she had long since gotten used to being ostracized.

She didn’t need to curry favor for a little warmth, nor did she expect everyone to like her.

As long as her grandmother doted on her, her second sister-in-law braided her hair, and her grandfather protected her, that was enough.

As for these other children?

’If we become friends, great. If not, so be it.’

But no one expected that a little tyke would actually dare to approach her.

He was a little boy in blue overalls.

He was five or six at most, with a round, chubby face and big, bright eyes.

Cradling a doll in his arms, he walked step by step until he was in front of Shanshan.

"Um... are you Shanshan? Here, this doll is for you. Can... can we be friends?"

He held the doll forward, his arms stretched out straight.

Shanshan looked up, and her eyes instantly lit up.