Call Me Daddy [Quick Transmigration]

“Mom, I’m done with my bath!”
Su Mingcheng shouted at the top of his lungs from the main room.
“Mom, where’s my bag? My bag—let me wear it, just for a bit!”

As he said that, he flung the door open and burst in—only to see his dad holding his mom’s hand. His mom’s face was as red as those azaleas blooming at the foot of the mountain. Covering his own face with both hands, he giggled, and even had the decency to remember “don’t look at indecent things,” tucking his head back behind the doorframe.
Jiang Lianmei immediately pulled her hand away, the blush on her cheeks practically spreading down to her neck.
“Dinner’s ready—I’ll go dish it up.”

With that, she practically sprinted toward the kitchen like her tail was on fire.
“You little rascal, get in here.”
Su Mingcheng was about to run after her to ask where his bag was when Su Aobai called him back. He was holding the same military-green shoulder bag that Jiang Lianmei had brought in earlier with the fabric, baiting his son into coming over like a pro.

“Dad, didn’t you say you bought that bag for me?”
He held the bag up high, completely out of Su Mingcheng’s reach no matter how high he jumped.
“This bag is expensive,” Su Aobai emphasized.

“I know! You’re the best, Dad. I love you the most!”
Su Mingcheng stared at the military-green bag, his little head nodding furiously.
“Look, in this family, your dad has to work hard teaching just to earn eighteen yuan a month. Your mom has to work on the production team to earn work points so we can trade for more grain. On top of that, she still has to do laundry and cook for the whole family. Back when you and your sister were really little, your mom and I had to take care of you day and night. Your mom and I have both put in a lot of effort to take care of this little family. So what about you? What have you done to earn this bag?”

Su Aobai figured it was time for his son to start understanding the value of money—and just how hard his parents worked.
Back when he was still someone’s kid, he never thought much about it. But now that he was the dad, he was terrified of raising a couple of good-for-nothing brats.
“I help take care of my sister!”

Su Mingcheng racked his brains. “I help Mom feed the chickens, and I water the vegetables in our private plot…”
He counted on his fingers, but no matter how he spun it, those little chores didn’t seem worth that much money.
“But you’re my dad…”
He pouted, clearly starting to get upset.

“Son, listen. I really trust you—especially during the time I wasn’t home. You helped me take care of your mom and your sister. Even though I don’t support getting into fights, I understand you did it to protect your family. That tells me you’re already a little man. And I believe that when you grow up a bit more, you’ll find better ways to solve problems than fighting.”
That little speech from Su Aobai practically elevated Su Mingcheng to a whole new status.
Puffing out his chest, he stood tall—feeling like, in his dad’s eyes, he really was already a grown-up.

And for a kid like Su Mingcheng—mature beyond his years—nothing was more important than being treated like an adult by adults.
“You’re a real man, right? And real men don’t take things they didn’t earn, right?”
Su Aobai was starting to feel like a full-blown swindler. But hey, it wasn’t his fault—the System had pulled the same trick on him.

“Look, if you really want this bag, shouldn’t you make a little more contribution to the family?”
Right now, he was like the Big Bad Wolf sweet-talking Little Red Riding Hood into opening the door.
“What kind of contribution?”

Su Mingcheng’s confidence had just gotten a boost.
“A real man speaks clearly—don’t stutter, just say what’s on your mind!”
He slapped his chest hard, full of heroic flair. In that moment, Su Mingcheng felt just like one of those fearless Red Army soldiers from the underground resistance movies.

Yup. A man. A real man!
“You were right earlier. Helping with your sister and doing chores around the house—that’s all contribution. But this bag is a little expensive. What you’ve done so far isn’t quite enough. So here’s the deal: starting today, I’m going to give you some extra assignments. If you can finish them on time every day, then this bag is yours—forever.”
Su Aobai held the bag right in front of him. The firm, sturdy military-green fabric, with that bright red five-pointed star shining like a hero’s badge—Su Mingcheng couldn’t take his eyes off it.

“But doing homework counts as contributing?”
Su Mingcheng didn’t quite get it.
“Think about it. Your tuition costs two yuan a year. The more you learn, the more you prove that the money we’re paying is worth it. That’s contributing to the family. And I won’t make it too hard on you—just twenty extra problems a day. That’s only about an hour more of study. If you pay attention in class, it’ll take even less time to finish. That way, you’ll still have plenty of time to play with your friends.”

That speech was so long, it left Su Mingcheng a little dazed.
“Dad… why does it feel like you’re trying to scam me?”
His animal instincts kicked in—something about the tone of voice his dad just used sounded suspiciously like how his mom would sweet-talk him into handing over his New Year’s money every year.

“How could your dad ever lie to you? Just now—did I rat you out to your mom about how it was you squirming in the back seat that made us both fall over? No, I didn’t, did I? We’re both men—would I lie to you?”
Su Aobai looked so sincere, even putting on a slightly wounded expression at his son’s lack of trust. That made Su Mingcheng feel pretty guilty.
“Okay!”

A man’s word is his bond. One spit, one nail.
He, the little man of this household, agreed!
“Comrade Mingcheng, I hope you won’t disappoint the organization.”

Su Aobai solemnly handed the military-green shoulder bag to his son. Su Mingcheng accepted it with equal seriousness, trying hard to contain his excitement as he slung it across his shoulder, stood at attention, and gave his dad a sharp military salute.
And just like that, the two “men” made a pact—one that only father and son would ever know about.
 

****
That afternoon, after lunch and a short nap, Su Aobai took his son to school on a bicycle.
He needed to use a bike often these days, and since Jiang Dajun and his sons didn’t need to travel to the commune or county, they had lent him theirs for a while.

Still, Su Aobai felt it wasn’t right to keep borrowing someone else’s—even if that “someone” was his father-in-law.
A household like theirs really ought to have a bike of its own. Money wasn’t the issue—what was hard to come by was the actual bicycle permit. Su Aobai figured maybe Hei-ge could help him get one. Next time he went into town, he’d ask.
Sure enough, Wang Fangfang didn’t show up for class that afternoon. She hadn’t even bothered to ask the principal for leave. While the old principal didn’t say anything outright, his face clearly showed his displeasure. But since Wang Fangfang had connections, nobody could fire her unless she made a major mistake.

When Su Aobai returned to the podium, some students looked genuinely happy. Others frowned and pouted, lips sticking out like they could hang a pot from them.
Wang Fangfang never bothered with discipline, which honestly made her a pretty lousy teacher. But some kids liked it that way. A whole day of messing around with their buddies at school beat staying at home, where grown-ups could assign them chores at any moment.
But Su Aobai’s predecessor had been different—he assigned homework, and if you misbehaved in class, he’d report you to your parents. And getting tattled on meant a guaranteed spanking when you got home.

“Before we start class today, I want to tell you all a story.”
He walked to the front of the room and, instead of diving straight into the lesson, began recounting a tale from Journey to the West.
The few kids who had been thinking about sneaking off to play suddenly perked up, caught in the story’s grip. They were desperate to hear what happened next.

But Su Aobai didn’t let them have it all. He stopped right when the Monkey King leapt out of the rock and was about to seek a master. The kids were left scratching their heads, dying to know if he succeeded.
“That’s all for today’s story. Now let’s begin class. Starting today, we’ll have a new rule in this class—if you pay attention in class and finish your homework on time, I’ll tell you a story before every lesson. But if you’d rather go out and play instead of learning, that’s fine too—just know you won’t get to hear the story. These stories are a reward for the students who behave.”
His words caused an immediate uproar in the classroom. Some students wanted to ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) hear the stories but weren’t thrilled about the learning part.

“Alright then—if you don’t want to be in class, you’re free to go out and play.”
Su Aobai smiled warmly, not the least bit forceful about it.
“Class is boring! I don’t wanna do homework at all.”

Chu Jiabao grumbled as he angrily kicked the back of his sister’s seat. Even though Chu Ni was older than him by a few years, she was shorter—probably because she didn’t get enough to eat and had to do chores constantly.
“Hey! Tomorrow, you better remember everything the teacher says and tell me when we get home. If you don’t, I’ll tell Mom and Dad to beat you.”
After threatening her, Chu Jiabao swaggered to his feet.

He was going out to play. A few of his usual little partners looked at the teacher, then looked at Chu Jiabao, who was prancing around like a runaway horse—carefree and gleeful—and couldn’t help but stand up and follow him.
After all, the teacher had said it himself: if you didn’t want to hear the story, you could leave. Tomorrow, they’d just have Chu Ni retell it to them. Some other kids, though, still felt a little intimidated by the new teacher—and for some reason, Su Aobai’s smile gave them the creeps, like it hid something underneath. So they decided to stay put.
In the end, things actually went better than Su Aobai expected—of 37 students, only 8 chose to leave the classroom.

Su Aobai smiled with full confidence. Picking up a piece of chalk, he began the lesson.
Chu Ni felt that Mr. Su seemed completely different from before. The way he explained problems made them so much easier to understand. The stuff Wang Fangfang had jumbled through before suddenly made sense after a few of his examples. It was the same class time, but it felt like they were learning so much more.
Even the kids who had just planned to half-listen found themselves gradually drawn in by his fun and clever teaching style.

His examples were just too entertaining. When teaching addition, he’d ask things like: “If the production team is handing out pork, and Dad’s work points get him a few pounds, and Mom’s points get her a few pounds, and each household gets an extra pound per person—how much pork does the whole family get?”
When practicing subtraction: “The family bought ten pieces of candy. Grandma sneaks one to you. Mom sneaks one to you. How many are left?”
These were real, life-or-death calculations! The kids forgot it was all hypothetical. They were so focused on figuring out how many pieces of pork or candy they could get that they counted on their fingers, drooled all over the place, and wished it were real life.

If math class was that fun, language class wasn’t any less exciting.
When it came time for composition, the assignment was: Describe New Year’s Day.
The kids thought of all the delicious food they’d eaten, remembering how they used to sneak off with a bit of their red envelope money—before their parents took the rest—and buy little firecrackers from the peddler. The popping, crackling sounds still rang in their ears like it was just yesterday.

The kids wrote while sighing wistfully—If only every day could be like New Year’s!—and any reluctance to write vanished completely.
Su Aobai moved through the classroom, occasionally pointing out mistakes in word choice or pinyin, and sometimes offering small hints. Once everyone finished their essays, he selected a few of the best ones to read aloud and analyzed what made them stand out.
He’d never done this kind of public reading before. The students whose essays were picked blushed bright red under the admiring gazes of their classmates, absolutely glowing with pride. They’d never felt this happy in class before. The ones who weren’t chosen looked a little disappointed, but since the teacher said he’d pick standout essays every time from now on, they quietly vowed to write even better next time.

Outside the classroom, the kids who had gone off to play kept hearing bursts of laughter and excited chatter drifting through the windows. But they couldn’t make out what was so funny, which only made their curiosity itch like ants crawling under their skin. More than once, they found themselves glancing longingly back at the classroom.
All in all, that afternoon of play… was boring as hell.