After Fu Wen put Ning Rongrong down, she stood there in a daze for quite a while.
She wasn't scared. She was just stunned.
At the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect, she'd flown before, carried through the air by Sword Grandpa, Bone Grandpa, and the sect's flying-type Soul Masters.
But they had all carried her while she did nothing but sit tight.
Flying on her own was a first.
"Want to try again?"
Fu Wen stood some distance away and turned to look at her.
Ning Rongrong gritted her teeth. "I do!"
She took a deep breath and activated the Light Wing on her back again.
This time, she didn't rush to fly upward. Instead, she stood still and first focused on feeling the Light Wing's balance.
The Light Wing had been made with a Flying Sausage. It wasn't part of her body, but the sensation was strange and wonderful, like having an extra pair of hands growing out of her back.
"Take it slow. Don't rush."
Oscar called from the side, even more nervous than she was.
Ning Rongrong tried flapping the Light Wing. Her body lifted slightly off the ground, but soon fell back down.
She flapped again, rose again, and fell again.
On the third try, she got the hang of it. She hovered half a foot above the ground, neither shooting upward nor falling over.
"I've got it!"
Ning Rongrong cried out excitedly.
Before the words had even left her mouth, the Light Wing suddenly shuddered. She lost her balance and toppled sideways.
This time, she didn't close her eyes.
She saw Fu Wen rushing over again, but she didn't want him to catch her this time.
Gritting her teeth, she desperately adjusted the Light Wing's angle. Just before she fell, she managed to steady herself again.
"I did it!"
Ning Rongrong hovered in midair, less than a foot off the ground, but her eyes shone like stars.
Flender watched from a distance, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly.
This girl had more grit than he'd expected.
Ning Fengzhi had been right to send her here.
Over the next few days, Ning Rongrong practiced flying every afternoon.
From half a foot off the ground to one foot, from one foot to one zhang, from one zhang to ten.
Her progress was astonishingly fast. Even Oscar had to admit that this young lady was more talented at flying than he was.
"That's not fair."
Oscar sat by the training ground, watching Ning Rongrong fly back and forth overhead with a deeply aggrieved expression.
"It took me half a month before I dared to fly that high. She did it in five days."
"Because you're an idiot."
Ma Hongjun added from the side.
"Say that again?"
"I said you're an idiot."
Ma Hongjun took off running.
"You get back here!"
The two chased each other around the training ground, playfully roughhousing. Ning Rongrong dived down from the sky and deliberately skimmed over their heads, stirring up a gust of wind that made their hair stand straight up.
"Hahaha!"
Ning Rongrong's laughter rang out from above, as clear as silver bells.
Fu Wen stood to the side and watched, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly.
This young lady really was different from the one in the original story.
The Ning Rongrong from the original story hadn't come to Shrek until she was twelve. She'd been spoiled and willful, looked down on everyone, and couldn't stand hardship or exhaustion.
But this six-year-old Ning Rongrong, though she still had a young lady's temper, was willing to work hard, willing to learn, and willing to set aside her pride and get along with Oscar and Ma Hongjun.
Was it really the butterfly effect?
Fu Wen thought it over and decided that wasn't entirely the case.
Her age was certainly a factor. A six-year-old was easier to change than a twelve-year-old.
But more important was the preparation Ning Fengzhi had done in advance.
Before sending Ning Rongrong here, Ning Fengzhi must have told her a great deal.
About Shrek, about Flender, about Oscar's Flying Sausage, about Fu Wen's China Divine Crocodile, and about Ma Hongjun's Evil Fire Phoenix.
He'd let Ning Rongrong know that this run-down academy had several geniuses just like her.
She hadn't come here to suffer. She'd come to find companions who could walk alongside her.
Ning Rongrong had understood what her father said, so she was willing to work hard.
"Fu Wen, what are you thinking about?"
Ning Rongrong landed in front of him, retracted the Light Wing, and tilted her head as she looked at him.
"Nothing."
Fu Wen drew his thoughts back.
"You flew pretty well today."
"Of course."
Ning Rongrong smugly lifted her chin.
"Do you even know who I am?"
"The little princess of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect."
Fu Wen kept a straight face.
"You've been flying for five days, and your highest flight was ten zhang. You still land crookedly."
Ning Rongrong's smile froze.
"Y-you! How can you be like that?"
She stamped her foot.
"Can't you praise me for once?"
"I just did."
Fu Wen turned and walked away.
Ning Rongrong stood there, so angry her face turned red.
But for some reason, she didn't dislike the feeling.
Back at the sect, everyone praised her and indulged her. Whatever she said went.
But here, no one indulged her.
Flender scolded her, Zhao Wuji glared at her, and though Oscar and Ma Hongjun joked around with her, they didn't hold back when it came to giving her a hard time.
And Fu Wen, that annoying guy, never praised her and barely even looked her in the eye.
Still, she knew that when she'd fallen from the sky that day, he'd been the first to rush over and catch her.
"Rongrong, don't mind him. He's just like that."
Oscar came over and handed her a Big Sausage.
"He's a real blockhead. He doesn't know how to talk."
"He's not a blockhead."
Ning Rongrong took the sausage and bit into it.
"He just doesn't want to talk to me."
Oscar froze for a moment, unsure how to respond.
Ma Hongjun leaned closer and whispered, "Brother Ao, Brother Wen's like that with everyone."
"I know."
Ning Rongrong chewed on the sausage and mumbled indistinctly.
"I just can't stand how aloof he acts."
"Then don't look at him."
Ma Hongjun said.
Ning Rongrong glared at him.
Ma Hongjun shrank his neck and didn't dare say anything more.
That evening, at the cafeteria.
Shao Xin made a whole table of dishes, far more lavish than usual.
Flender said it was to celebrate Ning Rongrong having been at the academy for a week. Ning Rongrong pursed her lips and said she didn't want to celebrate, but she still enjoyed the meal.
"Rongrong, how has your first week been?"
Flender asked.
"Not bad."
Ning Rongrong set down her chopsticks and thought for a moment.
"Training's just too exhausting. Running so many laps every day makes my legs feel like they're about to break."
"Good. That means it's working."
Flender pushed up his glasses.
"Why come here if you don't want to get tired? Wouldn't you rather enjoy yourself back at the sect?"
Ning Rongrong didn't say anything.
"Rongrong, your father didn't send you here to enjoy yourself."
Flender's tone grew serious.
"He sent you here to learn skills. Skills aren't taught; they're earned through practice. Practice means hardship. If you can't endure hardship, you'll never learn anything."
"I know."
Ning Rongrong lowered her head.
"I never said I wouldn't practice."
Flender looked at her and nodded, saying no more.
After dinner, Ning Rongrong offered to help clear away the dishes.
Shao Xin couldn't stop her. She carried the bowls and plates into the kitchen, rolled up her sleeves, and started washing them.
She was much more skilled than she'd been a week ago, and no longer splashed water everywhere.
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