Math Teacher, Please Get Lost (GL) - Chapter 10

Behind the curtain, the girls all poked their heads out to watch. Cai Qinwei froze for a few seconds at the sight of the uninvited intruder bursting in. Very soon, displeasure appeared on his face, and he let go of Yao Shuhan’s hand.

Yao Shuhan instinctively adjusted her glasses, frowned, and said, “Of course I’m Yao Shuhan. Who else would I be? You?”

Shu Yan clicked her tongue, turned her head aside, and slapped her own forehead. “I knew you looked familiar—it’s you…”

Yao Shuhan’s heart gave a heavy thump. She vaguely sensed something was off. She stopped bothering with Cai Qinwei and walked over to pull Shu Yan aside. “What are you doing here?”

Instead of answering directly, Shu Yan asked, “You’re nearsighted?”

“Huh?”

“You didn’t wear glasses before.”

“I wear contacts,” Yao Shuhan replied, exasperated.

Looking at her pure, puzzled expression, Shu Yan suddenly felt inexplicably irritable. She reached out, snatched the glasses off Yao Shuhan’s ears, and tossed them aside. “Take these off first.”

“You’re acting strange. What’s going on?”

Standing straight, Shu Yan lowered her head slightly and pointed with her chin toward Cai Qinwei, whose face was dark at the edge of the stage. “What are you doing here? And who is that guy? Touching you like that, and you just let him?”

Yao Shuhan took a deep breath and smiled. “That’s Teacher Cai. He asked me to come read a script. Why are you here?”

“Oh, so you even offer door-to-door script service? How thoughtful.”

“Shu Yan.” Yao Shuhan put one hand on her waist. “What are you trying to say?”

Shu Yan shrugged. “Nothing. I’m not trying to say anything. I came to borrow the keys. I don’t have class tonight and forgot to bring mine.”

“Wait a second.” Yao Shuhan bent her head to search through her bag, cold sweat breaking at her temples. Shu Yan’s reaction had really been strange just now. But luckily, her appearance was also timely—at least this way, Cai Qinwei wouldn’t keep pestering her.

“Why did you forget me?”

Dong—dong—

A deafening bell sounded in Yao Shuhan’s mind. The vibrations slammed against her eardrums, one after another, nearly dizzying her.

She lowered her head, desperately trying to suppress the flood surging up inside. Biting her lip, she finally found the keys and stretched her arm out without daring to turn around. “What are you talking about?”

Shu Yan’s eyes were half lowered as she stared at her for a moment. Then she reached out, took the keys, and said, “Forget it. I’m going back.”

The person behind her turned around, footsteps slowly fading away.

Shu Yan—

Yao Shuhan suddenly turned, her eyes locked tightly on that tall, slender back. She opened her mouth, but no sound came. She could only watch helplessly as Shu Yan walked out the door and disappeared.

Clutching the front of her blouse, Yao Shuhan collapsed into a chair, gasping for air. Longing and resentment turned into seeds that burrowed into the flesh of her heart. Under the catalyst of pain and despair, thorny rose branches grew, wrapping tightly around her chest, their sharp spines piercing into her, demanding to drink her bl00d—bitter though it was now, devoid of any sweetness.

Beside her, Cai Qinwei’s anxious voice broke through: “Shuhan, are you alright?”

He stepped forward to steady her, but she pushed his hand away. He froze, stunned. “Shuhan, you…”

“Nothing,” she said weakly, waving him off. “Just… let me be alone.”

I’ve waited for you for twelve years—every day, every minute, every second. Every drop of bl00d in me has longed for the oxygen you breathe out. And you dare to say I forgot you?

Anyone in the world could ask me why I forgot you, but not you, Shu Yan. Never you!

Yao Shuhan wandered aimlessly down a wooded path, passing through the ginkgo grove in front of the arts building. Many students greeted her along the way, but her face was clouded with gloom, her expression so sorrowful that it drew pity from everyone who saw her.

“Ms. Yao, are you feeling unwell?” a student asked in concern.

“I’m fine, just a little tired.” Yao Shuhan forced her lips into a faint smile, though she didn’t even have the strength to smile properly anymore.

“Please take care, Ms. Yao.”

“Okay.”

As the sky darkened, the campus grew pitch black, the garden lights below the teaching building flickering on and off.

Inside the classroom, students were buried in their assignments, not noticing that their teacher seemed so unlike herself.

Ms. Yao didn’t walk around to check their homework progress as usual, didn’t ask which subject gave the most work, nor did she teasingly criticize a colleague’s personality. She didn’t write a poem on the blackboard or recommend a new book to share her thoughts.

She just sat quietly at her desk, eyes vacant, staring into some point in the void.

Yao Shuhan felt deceived.

And the deceiver was Shu Yan.

When she thought Shu Yan was the most youthful, the brightest, the kindest, Shu Yan had trampled on her humble but sincere heart. And when she thought Shu Yan had long forgotten her, and was ready to retaliate for that cruelty, Shu Yan appeared—blaming her, asking why she had forgotten.

But it was you who forgot me first. Why do you get to say I was wrong?

Yao Shuhan sighed deeply. Shu Yan, Shu Yan… What am I supposed to do with you? How am I supposed to face you?

After evening self-study, Yao Shuhan trudged downstairs, listless.

Yin Dapeng noticed something off. “Shuhan, what’s wrong with you today?” He poked her elbow. “Got your soul stolen?”

“Get lost. I’m not in the mood to deal with you.”

“You’re acting strange. Something’s definitely up.”

“Why are you leaving class with me again?” she snapped.

Yin Dapeng snorted. “You think I want to? Director Huang scheduled it this way—what can I do?”

“Next time, I’ll tell him not to put our classes together. Just seeing you annoys me.”

“Come on, Yao the genius, we’re both single. As single comrades-in-arms, you can’t keep targeting me like this!”

“Don’t lump me together with you. I’m single because people are pursuing me. You’re single because no one wants you.”

“You—!” He was about to argue when his eyes shifted sideways and he suddenly called out, “Hey, Ms. Shu!”

Thump—thump—

Yao Shuhan’s heart leapt. She stumbled, nearly falling, and Yin Dapeng quickly caught her. “Careful!”

“Good evening.” Shu Yan approached, holding an aluminum can glowing with orange candlelight, her smile warm. “Mr. Yin, just finished class too?”

“Yes!” Yin Dapeng beamed. “What are you doing here, Ms. Shu? Forgot something in the office?”

Shu Yan touched her nose, lowered her head with a soft laugh, then looked up at Yao Shuhan, who had turned her face aside, eyes red. “Something like that.”

“Oh, let me help you then?” Yin Dapeng offered eagerly, even though he knew there was nothing he could really do.

Shu Yan shook her head but added politely, “Thank you, but no. It’s something only I can get.”

Yao Shuhan froze, turning to look at her with complicated eyes.

Shu Yan walked closer. Yao Shuhan unconsciously stepped back. Frowning, Shu Yan quickly caught up and grabbed her sleeve. “Here, hold this.” She placed the glowing can in her hand and steadied her by the shoulder.

“Alright, I’m heading back. Goodbye.” Yin Dapeng, sensing the odd atmosphere, tactfully excused himself.

“Weren’t you going to get something?” Yao Shuhan asked.

“I came to pick you up,” Shu Yan replied, lowering her gaze. She saw the candlelight cast a warm glow on Yao Shuhan’s pale lips, and her eyes wavered slightly.

“That wasn’t necessary.” Yao Shuhan hugged the can to her chest, smiling wryly.

Shu Yan pulled her forward, steering them away from curious stares, down a quieter path into the trees.

They walked in silence until Shu Yan suddenly stopped. Yao Shuhan, head down, bumped into her chest, startled. She quickly stepped back, flustered.

Lowering her chin, the moonlight catching in her dark eyes, Shu Yan softly asked, “Yao Shuhan, do you remember that we were high school classmates?”

Yao Shuhan’s lips parted. The flickering flame in her hands danced, sending warmth into her palms.

“Answer me.” Shu Yan pressed, impatience creeping in. She hated seeing Yao Shuhan’s innocent, helpless expression, hated how she looked so pitiful when no one had wronged her. No wonder so many men chased after her—her fragile look must stir their protective instincts, making them want to cherish her. Damn it. Even she couldn’t stand those tear-filled eyes, that bitten lip, that mix of hurt and defiance…

“I remember,” Yao Shuhan finally murmured, voice faint and cold.

Shu Yan lifted her head in surprise, just in time to see Yao Shuhan’s lips curve into a bitter smile. “I remember plenty. The only one who knows nothing… is you.”

Then she fell silent. Under the cold night, the wind tousled her loose hair against her pale cheeks. From a distance, the disarray carried a sorrowful beauty that lodged deep in Shu Yan’s chest.

Shu Yan’s breath hitched. “If you remember, why didn’t you tell me?”

Yao Shuhan gave a soft laugh. “Tell you? What good would that do? I sat through half of freshman year with you, and you never noticed me. We spent three years in the same school, and you didn’t recognize me when we met again. Why should I tell someone who forgot me, ‘Hey, do you remember? I was your classmate’? Why should I tell the person who once mocked my feelings, ‘Hey, do you remember? I was the one who liked you’? Shu Yan, does the whole world have to revolve around you? Is your face really that precious?”

“Tch.” Shu Yan ruffled her hair irritably and gestured for her to stop talking.

Yao Shuhan gave a bitter smile and fell quiet.

After a pause, Shu Yan spoke again, her tone sincere. “Shuhan, I owe you an apology. You probably don’t understand me well, but I’m careless—really careless. Especially when it comes to relationships, I wasn’t perceptive at all. Back then, I was just young and foolish. I said hurtful things without knowing how much they hurt. I honestly didn’t realize you were serious, or even understand what same-s3x feelings meant. Looking back now, I regret it deeply. I want to apologize. Tell me what I can do to make it up to you, to let you vent your anger. Whatever it is, I’ll try.”

Yao Shuhan stared at her, stunned, then let out a sharp laugh.

Only you could say something like that, Shu Yan. You have this gift—you can make the most sincere words sound absolutely revolting, like they deserve a thousand knives, like you should be fried in oil a million times and sold with roasted scorpions on the street.

And yet… some people still can’t bear to hate you.

For the first time, Yao Shuhan saw Shu Yan so serious. She pressed her lips together, patted her shoulder, and said, “It’s fine. Like you said, it was just childish nonsense. It’s in the past. I’m not angry anymore. Just remember that I’m your landlord now, so you’re stuck with my exploitation. Also…”

Shu Yan’s eyes lit up. “Also what?”

Yao Shuhan smiled faintly, though weariness tinged her beauty. “Don’t bring up liking or not liking again. That was just a silly thing from our youth. Don’t dwell on it. These days, plenty of men chase after me. Just don’t go spreading my embarrassing past around and ruin my reputation.”

Shu Yan hadn’t expected such an answer. Her shoulders trembled, a dull ache blooming in her chest—but only for a fleeting second.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “But that Cai whatever guy—don’t agree to him. He’s clearly no good.”

“He gave me roses, though,” Yao Shuhan teased with a smile in her eyes.

“Then I’ll give you roses. Just don’t be with him.”

Yao Shuhan kicked at a pile of fallen leaves and scoffed. “You’re so nosy.”

“I’m doing it for your own good. I owe you, remember? I need to treat you well to make up for the past.”

“Mm.”

Yao Shuhan tilted her head back, gazing at the dark night sky where clouds drifted.

Round and round… we’ve come back to the start, she thought.

But as long as Shu Yan was by her side, what more could she ask for?