Math Teacher, Please Get Lost (GL) - Chapter 2

Tonight there was no evening self-study for Chinese class. After the class meeting ended, Yao Shuhan packed her things, ready to head home.

“Yao the Great Talent, leaving already?” Yin Dapeng had classes all evening—one with Class 12, one with Class 13, and then he still had to keep an eye on his own Class 14’s boarders until the last self-study session ended. He couldn’t get off work until nearly 9:50. The very first day of school and already a full schedule—no wonder Big Yin was feeling frustrated.

“I don’t have class tonight. Didn’t I post a rental notice? Someone contacted me this afternoon, I’m meeting them later.” Yao Shuhan explained, then suddenly paused. She pulled a timetable out from under the glass panel on her desk, placed it in front of Yin Dapeng, and pointed at the last column on Monday’s row. “Mr. Shu’s evening self-study is right next door. Operation Leftover-Man Battle—good luck!”

Yin Dapeng choked, then gave a lewd smile and shook her hand. “Thank you, Goddess Yao, for your full support. If it works out, dinner’s on me.”

Shuhan shook her head with a sigh. “Hope you win the beauty and settle down, so you’ll stop tormenting innocent girls.”

“Hey, Yao the Great Talent, the first half I liked hearing, but the second half doesn’t sit well. How am I tormenting innocent girls?” Yin Dapeng protested, craning his neck.

“Every young woman in this office has received a love letter from you. I still have the originals in my drawer—exactly eight, no more no less. Want me to take them out and show you?” Yao Shuhan jerked her chin toward her desk. The ladies of the Chinese department all looked up at them, blinking and smiling slyly. Zhao Tongtong, sitting opposite Yao, even waved a red heart-shaped card at Yin.

Clicking his tongue, Yin stabbed the desk with his pen. “Can’t you all stop ganging up on me?”

“Good luck, Yin. You’re not getting any younger, time to start a family, eh?” Shuhan patted his shoulder, slung her bag, and left.

Yin felt even more depressed. He grumbled in his heart that Yao always had to poke where it hurt. Every time he set his heart on chasing some girl, Yao would mock him, and not just her—she had rallied a whole bunch of young female teachers from both the Chinese and English groups to tease him together.

Ever since his “wide net, few catches” dating policy got exposed, everyone in the language office knew he was a serially defeated “leftover warrior.”

Back when Yao Shuhan had just graduated and been assigned to Yingcai, Yin Dapeng treated her like royalty, almost like serving an empress dowager. But after a year with no progress, he finally gave up.

Well, giving up was giving up. If they couldn’t be lovers, they could still be colleagues, even friends, right?

Yin howled inwardly: Yao Shuhan, look at how you treat a friend! You even set up a secret society of young female teachers to exchange my love letters, spreading my tragic dating history everywhere, so now all the new teachers ignore me!

So, humiliated and angry, Teacher Yin Dapeng drew a huge red circle on a student’s vocabulary dictation notebook, muttering: Hmph, Yao Shuhan, I curse you!

Evening self-study was about to begin. On the road, there were only students hurrying toward the teaching buildings and old men in white jackets walking laps around the track.

Passing the dormitory, a loud voice sang “Saringlang flowers bloom one by one” into Yao Shuhan’s ears. She glanced over and saw—it was the dormitory aunties leading “exercise-dance” on the track.

Shuhan’s face went dark, but she stayed composed. “Mm, colorful campus culture, very nice.”

She checked her watch: 6:35.

She hadn’t eaten yet.

She wasn’t sure how long the rental meeting would last. If she went in hungry, she might get confused and undercharge the rent.

No, she needed to eat something first.

At the school gate, the security guard, nicknamed Big Bear, greeted her with a broad grin. “Hey, Teacher Yao!”

Shuhan paused and gave him a small smile. “Hi, Brother Xiong, on duty again tonight? Hard work.”

Ahh—Comrade Big Bear felt like basking in spring breeze. He grinned stupidly. “Not hard at all. Teaching’s harder for you, Teacher Yao.”

Shuhan nodded. “Not really. You get back to work, I’m grabbing some dinner and I’ll be back later.”

Watching her graceful back, Big Bear clenched his fists, eyes practically sparkling. “Ah, Teacher Yao is getting prettier and prettier.”

The gate of Yingcai High was lined with food stalls, selling all kinds of snacks—fried potatoes, hotpot skewers, stir-fries over rice, noodles and dumplings, egg pancakes, takoyaki, winter sponge cakes, summer iced sago desserts… A paradise for foodies! And foodies have no borders, no ages, no distinction between teachers and students. Naturally, Shuhan, a lover of good food, was a frequent visitor.

Time was short, so she didn’t go far. She stopped at a cart with little red lanterns and bought oden.

The seller was a simple, neat girl, maybe eighteen or nineteen, with straight bangs and a ponytail. When she smiled, two small dimples appeared.

Shuhan liked this clean, pretty oden girl and often bought from her. Over time, they’d grown familiar.

“Shuhan-jie is here,” the girl greeted sweetly, dimples like two little jars of rice wine.

“Mm, same as usual, no spice.” Shuhan handed over a five-yuan note.

“Okay.” The girl slipped the bill into her apron pocket, then poked the skewered balls into a plastic cup. “And I’ll add an extra beef ball for you, I know you love these.”

“Thanks.” Shuhan blew on the steaming food and smiled.

“Shuhan-jiejie.” The girl’s cheeks flushed as she called her again.

“Mm? What is it?” Shuhan looked up at her glowing face and big, watery eyes—like a startled little deer, too cute.

“That… you’re a Chinese teacher, right? Could I… borrow some essay or poetry collections from you?” the girl asked softly, eyes lowered, sneaking a look up at her.

Her name was Han Jiangxue. She’d dropped out in her first year of high school after her father was injured on a construction site. Her mother had died long ago, and she and her father had relied on his wages. After the accident, their savings were wiped out by medical bills, leaving no income, so poor Jiangxue had to work small jobs to support them.

A child who loved literature was always a good child—and this one was as lovely as a flower.

The more Shuhan thought about it, the more her heart ached. She agreed at once, even promising to tutor Jiangxue in her free time.

Jiangxue was so excited she thanked her repeatedly and even added a few extra fish balls.

Shuhan fretted as she ate. With the extra balls, she couldn’t finish them all…

Just inside the school gates was the teachers’ apartment compound. Past another gate lay the actual school buildings.

When she reached her apartment building, Shuhan glanced toward Block C and spotted a figure balancing precariously on a flowerbed edge.

Frowning—this braided hair, that army-green coat—why did it look so familiar?

Almost like… she’d just seen it an hour ago…

…

Clutching her bag strap, Shuhan quickened her pace, eyes fixed forward.

In her head she chanted: I don’t see you, you don’t see me. I don’t see you, you don’t see me…

Almost there, just one more step into the stairwell!

“Yo, isn’t this Teacher Yao.” A lazy laugh came from behind.

Her left foot froze midair. She shut her eyes and forced a wry smile.

Reluctantly, she turned. “What a coincidence, Teacher Shu.”

Shu Yan grinned, nodding. “So, Teacher Yao lives here?”

“…”

Shu Yan stepped closer, peering into her face. “Teaaacher Yaooo?”

“Ah?” Shuhan jerked her head up, nearly bumping Shu’s nose. She jumped back two steps. “What?”

Shu Yan pouted unhappily. “Teacher Yao, what were you thinking about? I said something and you didn’t hear me at all.”

“…That’s none of your business, Shu-laoshi.” Shuhan looked away at the flowerbed, refusing eye contact. “Also, please don’t make sudden weird moves. Keeping some distance with people you just met is basic etiquette.”

“Oh.” Shu Yan nodded knowingly. “Got it. So, Teacher Yao and I are meeting for the first time. Huh, but I feel like I’ve known you forever, like we met long ago…”

Shuhan’s heart gave a violent thump.

Thump, thump, thump.

Outwardly, she kept a calm smile, but inside she was boiling over like a kettle at 100°C. She wanted to ask: why are you talking to me like this, Shu Yan? Did you really forget I once confessed to you?

Ahhh, Shuhan was dying of second-hand embarrassment and dread. Shu Yan, you shameless thing, just leave me alone already!

“Eh, Teacher Yao, why are you just standing there? Aren’t you going up?” Shu tilted her head, eyes sly but mouth curving in a hidden smile.

“!!!” Shuhan startled, then quickly smoothed her face. “Cough, I’m waiting for someone.”

“Oh.” Shu Yan took another step forward and smiled faintly. “What a coincidence, me too.”

“!!!” Shuhan backed away again, thinking only “ha-ha” inside, though her face stayed serene. “Really, what a coincidence.”

So the two of them stood silently under Block C, waiting.

They waited… and waited…

A little cat trotted by, staring curiously at the two silly humans before sitting down at their feet.

“Meow.” It tilted its head, big eyes watching.

One of them—slim and elegant, long black hair flowing, dressed in a white coat embroidered with plum blossoms, hands in pockets, her expression calm but eyes betraying impatience.

The other—tall and dashing, hair in a jaunty little braid, clad in a green hooded parka, head tilted toward the corridor but eyes sneaking glances at her companion, lips twitching in a smile.

“Teacher Yao, what’s that in your hand?” Shu suppressed her grin and asked.

Shuhan raised a fish ball on a stick. “Oden.”

Shu hummed, eyeing the little round ball. “Why not eat it? It’ll get cold.”

Shuhan chuckled. “Bought too much, I can’t finish.”

“Oh.” Shu suddenly grabbed her hand, popped the ball into her own mouth, chewed and swallowed, then smacked her lips and even licked them, glancing slyly at Shuhan’s pale fingers. “Mm, not bad.”

Heat crept up Shuhan’s cheeks. She coughed lightly and turned her head, shoving the cup toward her. “If you like them, there are more.”

“Thanks.” Shu Yan took the cup, munching as she asked, “Teacher Yao, the person you’re waiting for isn’t here yet? Why not call them?”

“Ah?” Shuhan froze, then scrambled for her phone. “Right, I forgot.”

She quickly dialed the number from the rental inquiry. Within three seconds—

“Pikachu~” chirped a ringtone right beside her.

Shuhan’s mind went blank. A dreadful premonition struck.

Slowly, she turned.

There was Shu Yan, waving a brick-like phone in a bright yellow Pikachu case, grinning from ear to ear.