All the Female Protagonists Who Have Been Saved Have Become Obsessed [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 42

Outside, magpies chirped three times, startled away by the sudden burst of reading in the classroom.

Beixia glanced over, distracted, then lowered her head to listen.

The English teacher was calling students to explain questions.

Wu Huimin, visibly nervous, mumbled, preparing.

Beixia checked—it was her turn for reading comprehension.

English and Chinese were her weak subjects, but she’d tackled yesterday’s paper carefully. Reviewing her answers silently, when Wu Huimin’s turn came, she stumbled through her question’s answer and process. The teacher told her to sit, and Beixia was next.

Standing, Beixia held her paper, reading the comprehension from start to finish, softly reciting fill-in words. Her English was mute, pronunciation off.

After, the teacher praised her progress, noting her thorough understanding, with errors from tricky options. She urged Beixia to memorize more words, grasp question intent, then explained gerunds and difficult words on the board.

Wu Huimin looked at Beixia admiringly. She’d have been more nervous. Beixia was so calm.

Class continued. Beixia had no interest in chatting with Wu Huimin. Two years of neglected studies meant catching up, even with her sharp mind. Hungry to learn, she hoped to surprise Zhou Xi, who clearly cared about her grades, buying her stacks of study materials.

Calculating her progress, with six months to the college exam, she doubted finishing all those questions.

Thinking of wasting Zhou Xi’s money, Beixia wanted to use every spare moment. Another pen ran dry; she swapped the refill, head down, pushing on.

Meanwhile, the Education Bureau visited the school’s archives, pulling Beixia’s three-year academic record to trace her school path.

Her file logged every exam. Two staff shook their heads, handing it to the dean, saying, “Look! Such potential, wasted!”

Educators ached seeing gifted kids abandoned. Beixia shone in her first year but faltered after the class placement exam, her grades plummeting in her second year, now last in class.

The dean recalled Beixia—orphaned, discussed recently by Xu Chuntian. The school waived her textbook fees, and he’d persuaded another student’s parent to return. Nothing mattered more than the upcoming exam.

The Bureau didn’t confront Xu Chuntian yet—that was the last step.

They interviewed Beixia’s first-year homeroom teacher and subject teachers, all expressing regret, especially her homeroom teacher, sighing repeatedly.

“Beixia stood out at enrollment, high scores, brilliant, gifted in math, physics, chemistry, always class first. She won first in a math competition, second in physics. But in the second semester, before the placement exam, her family tragedy struck.”

Sighing, he continued, “Her parents, in foreign trade, were well-off. They rushed back for her birthday, but their plane crashed…” He shook his head, “After that, she lost focus. Her placement exam was a mess—answer sheet misfilled. No surprise her scores tanked, sending her to another class.”

He added, “I tried counseling her, but adults struggle with such loss, let alone a teen. Her only relative, an uncle, was unkind… She often went hungry. I helped a few times, but she’s stubborn!”

The Bureau pieced together her story, then spoke to her current teachers, who shook their heads, frustrated. Even the worst students scribbled something on exams; Beixia’s were blank, the cleanest.

The English teacher, fresh from class, said differently, “She’s been doing well lately, showing study enthusiasm.”

During the break, with the dean’s help, the Bureau questioned Beixia’s classmates about Xu Chuntian’s class.

Some students, timid, said little. Others were blunt, “Xu favors good students, seats them upfront, spares them chores, gives them perks.”

“Beixia? Cui Lin always bullies her. No idea why Cui Lin hates her.”

“Does Xu know? I heard Cui Lin’s group say telling the teacher’s useless.”

“Cui Lin’s grades rule, so her word’s law~”

Responses aligned. The dean, listening, turned green, stunned that despite school warnings, a teacher treated students so unequally!

The Bureau didn’t approach Beixia. Classmates questioned returned, eyeing her oddly. Cui Lin laughed with friends, lounging arrogantly on desks, disrupting others who dared not speak.

Even in one class, Xu’s blatant favoritism created tiers. Cui Lin was top-tier until the class leader snapped, “Cui Lin, quieter! People are studying or resting. You’re too loud.”

Cui Lin toned down.

But she muttered, “Hypocrite.”

Her friends giggled, covering their mouths.

“Boss, not targeting Beixia anymore?” someone whispered, glancing slyly at her.

Cui Lin spat, “Not now. Teachers are watching. Her, making me apologize? Hmph!”

“You apologized?” someone asked, eyes strange.

“No, never!” Cui Lin’s voice hid her guilt, “Why would I?”

“Exactly! Look at her, so pathetic!”

Cui Lin loathed Beixia.

She liked Wen Chao from Class 2, her junior high classmate. Though both reached this school, he was in the top class, she in regular, divided by an unbridgeable gap. Chasing Wen Chao, hoping to close it with effort, she thrived as a leader in her class. That afternoon, planning to confess, she saw Wen Chao with Beixia at the corridor’s turn.

The lean boy blocked Beixia, agitated, “Why skip the exam? We agreed to compete, to outdo each other next year! Why give up?”

Beixia, silent, tried to pass, but Wen Chao grabbed her arm.

“Beixia! I’ll win first in this physics competition for you!”

Beixia, cold, “Let go.”

Wen Chao’s face fell, voice low, “Beixia, you were my rival. Now, you’re such a letdown.”

He released her. Beixia walked downstairs.

Cui Lin, frozen above, thought—Wen Chao liked Beixia? He had someone? Why not her, also from a regular class?

From then, she despised Beixia.

She stole her crush.

The Bureau, clear on the situation, told the dean, “Let’s see Teacher Xu. Is she teaching?”

Xu Chuntian taught chemistry, with two morning classes. The Bureau waited until she returned to her office, greeting, “Teacher Xu, can we talk?”

Xu, sipping water after class, jolted at the Bureau’s arrival. Seeing the dean’s grim face with two briefcase-carrying staff, her heart sank. Nodding nervously, “Okay.”

Xu missed her afternoon class. The class leader, visiting the office, announced a study hall. Beixia, unfazed, kept working. The Bureau left the principal’s office, shaking hands, “Thanks for your trouble.”

“No trouble,” the principal demurred, “You came all this way.”

“We investigated, understood the situation, and will report accurately. We hope the school tightens discipline, especially with young teachers—criticize and educate where needed.”

“It’s one teacher’s inaction. We’re satisfied with the school overall,” the other added.

Relieved, the principal promised, “We’ll start self-inspections, ensuring no delays for students, satisfying parents!”

The Bureau staff exchanged smiles, “That’s that. We’re off. No need to see us out.”

“I must.”

The principal escorted them to the gate, then turned, fuming at the dean, “What’s this? No Bureau notice, and they show up?”

The dean explained. The principal frowned, “How did Xu handle this? She’s unfit as homeroom teacher! Replace her!”

Taking a few steps, he turned back, “And the parent’s demands matter! Just an apology! Arrange a class meeting! This reached the Bureau, bringing two big shots. Use your heads—can we afford to offend them? And that Cui Lin, tell her parents: apologize, or face a recorded demerit, tainting her file! Or don’t come back!”

The dean nodded, hurrying after.

Xu returned to her office, dazed, her title and rating ruined.

In the final afternoon study hall, Cui Lin was called out, returning red-eyed. Her parent stood at the classroom door. The dean held a class meeting, tapping the desk with a pointer, coughing, “I have something to say.” Gaining attention, he continued, “Due to Cui Lin’s actions, the school requires her to apologize to Beixia. Beixia, please stand.”

Beixia stood. Cui Lin walked from the podium, bowed deeply, “Beixia, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have bullied or framed you for stealing.”

Biting her lip, holding back tears, Cui Lin’s mother warned—Beixia had strong backing, unaffordable to offend. Avoid trouble, or be disowned.

Fear outweighed shame. Cui Lin bowed ninety degrees. Beixia stayed silent, classmates watching. Cui Lin’s tears fell; she bit her lip to stay quiet. Was this oppression? Why didn’t Beixia cry when bullied?

Beixia’s eyes were cold.

“Cui Lin.”

“Bulliers get bullied.”

“Humiliators get humiliated.”

The world always had someone more powerful. Enjoying bullying the weak, you’d face worse from the stronger—a lesson Beixia knew.

“I won’t forgive you, Cui Lin.”

Beixia said, “But it’s enough.”

She sat. Wu Huimin’s eyes sparkled.

So cool! Her deskmate!

“Cough, sit down,” the dean said, stunned by Beixia’s resolve, yet unsurprised given her past. He announced, “Your teacher Xu, due to health reasons, will no longer be your homeroom teacher. Teacher Zhao Wenyan from Class 2 will take over. Welcome Teacher Zhao!”

Zhao Wenyan entered, in a white shirt, standing tall, smiling at the class, faint crow’s feet crinkling, “Hello, I’m Zhao Wenyan, your new homeroom teacher. If you have troubles, come chat. My office is on the third floor, open anytime.”

The class gasped.

The star teacher of senior classes—Zhao Wenyan.

Who didn’t envy Class 2? In the tense senior year, they had gym, Zhao as goalkeeper, movie nights weekly…

Zhao’s virtues were endless. Leading their regular class felt unreal. Beixia met his kind gaze, guiltily lowering her head.

Zhao, her first-year homeroom teacher, was good to her, the only other person besides Zhou Xi she felt guilty toward. She avoided him, feeling unworthy of his kindness.

The dean handed the class to Zhao for bonding.

Tall, in slacks, Zhao was a heartthrob in youth, still handsome despite graying temples, standing straight, speaking warmly. He patiently answered questions.

Students buzzed until dismissal. Zhao, stern, said, “You’re eager to leave, but I have words. I’ve always said, I want to be friends, and I hope you don’t bully, but love classmates.”

“You’re almost adults. You hate lectures, but study hard, don’t waste these three years. Don’t mock effort or abandon yourselves. You’re young, life’s long. Every earnest person deserves support. From today, I want change. I’ve arranged with Class 2 for one-on-one tutoring. Each of you gets a mentor. Ask them questions.”

Zhao smiled, “Get along. Class dismissed!”

Bold for senior year, pairing top students with regulars, risking Class 2’s grades.

The dean, hearing cheers, shook his head.

Zhao set next month’s exam as a deadline. If both classes improved, it’d continue. If not…

The dean mused, “Zhao, at his age, keeps refining teaching. Impressive.” He admired him.

After class, Zhao bid farewell at the door. Cui Lin left with her parent. When most students were gone, he approached Beixia, “Can we walk? I’m heading to the cafeteria.”

Beixia nodded. They walked silently downstairs. Near the cafeteria, Zhao smiled, “Beixia, your future isn’t limited here. Six months left—work hard. I know you can.”

For the first time, Beixia met his eyes, voice respectful, “Teacher, I’ll try.”

Zhao’s eyes widened, tearing up at his age. Hiding it, he said, “Good, good, good.” Wiping his eyes, he added, “I’ll make you a study plan. With your talent, you can catch up!”

Beixia’s lips curved, heart warm. Opening up, the world felt warm.

“I’ll study hard.”

Zhao patted her shoulder, entered the faculty cafeteria, and, unseen, fist-pumped, thrilled at her turnaround, resuming his calm demeanor.

Beixia’s class transformed. Teachers noted students’ new seriousness, boldly asking questions, unlike their former reluctance. Though old habits lingered, progress was huge. Teachers credited Zhao’s magic.

Some parents initially disliked the teacher switch, but Zhao’s credentials and student improvements won them over. Cui Lin, once upset, beamed learning Class 2 would tutor them—her chance to see Wen Chao.

After work, Zhou Xi returned, Beixia still at school. Setting food on the table, she poured water. Her first day at the TV station was orientation, not full work, but she saw perks—the cafeteria, free for staff and families, fresh ingredients. She thought of Beixia’s meals.

When Beixia entered, Zhou Xi lounged on the sofa, reviewing work files on her laptop, cross-legged, focused. Hearing the door, her gaze shifted, seeing Beixia. Her hair was loosely up, in cotton pajamas, stray strands on her pale face. Smiling at Beixia, she set the laptop aside, standing, “You’re back.”

Being waited for felt good. Beixia closed the door, humming.

“I brought food. Eat before studying.”

Somewhere, Zhou Xi read growing kids got hungry at night. Beixia, quiet, wouldn’t say if hungry. Zhou Xi stayed vigilant.

Beixia was too thin—under 100 pounds?

At 170 cm, Zhou Xi saw Beixia, barely at her eyes, around 165 cm. Heating the food, Beixia washed up. Zhou Xi grabbed the scale from her room.

When Beixia emerged, she waved, “Come weigh.”

Beixia, puzzled, stepped on, still in her coat and slippers. Zhou Xi sighed at 41 kg, “You’re too thin.”

No wonder she seemed paper-thin.