Math Teacher, Please Get Lost (GL) - Chapter 22

Shu Yan was walking down the street when she spotted a familiar little white cat. Its fur had turned dirty, but she recognized it at once. She went over, scooped up Kimchi, patted its head, and said,
“Running away again, huh? Your owner’s going to be mad at you. And when that happens, don’t expect me to save you.”

Kimchi kicked with its hind legs, lifted its paw to scratch her, but Shu Yan dodged just in time.

“I’m back.” Shu Yan pushed the door open and hurried inside, kicking off her shoes and rushing toward the living room, eager to ask about the chocolates.

Hearing her voice, Yao Shuhan lifted her head. The floor lamp by the sofa glowed a warm orange, casting soft light across the gentle lines of her face. A pair of black-framed glasses rested on her nose, throwing shadows across her fair skin, making her features look even more luminous. Her silky black hair fell quietly against her neck.

Shu Yan’s breath caught. She drew in sharply, staring at her.
“You’re wearing glasses…”

Every time Yao Shuhan put on glasses, it pulled Shu Yan back to old memories—one sunny summer day, a field of green grass, a love letter, and the words: I like you.

Yao Shuhan hummed in reply, taking off her glasses and setting them, along with the book she’d been reading, on the little side table.
“You’re back. Sit down. I have something for you.”

Shu Yan blinked in surprise. Something for me?

What could it be?

She sat blankly on the sofa, her fingers twining together, her mind in a daze. Her heart was racing, pounding uncomfortably in her chest. Her breathing felt uneven, her body strangely hot. Shu Yan touched her cheek—it was burning.

What was happening? She had never felt like this before.

She was flustered.

At that moment, Yao Shuhan came out of the kitchen with a small box in her hands. She placed it in front of Shu Yan. Shu Yan patted her face, then looked down.

It was a red heart-shaped box—larger than the little one she had once taken from Yao Shuhan’s desk.

Shu Yan blinked, swallowing hard. “This is…”

Yao Shuhan’s smile was tender, her eyes glimmering with light. She gestured with her lips.
“Here, for you. Open it.”

“O-okay…” Shu Yan’s hands trembled as she tried to lift the lid. She fumbled for a long time, unable to open it. She stole a glance at Yao Shuhan, who was watching her silently, a gentle smile on her lips, her willow-leaf eyes brimming with warmth. Embarrassed, Shu Yan dropped her gaze and tried again, but the lid stubbornly refused to budge.

Taking a deep breath, Shu Yan wiped her sweaty palms on her pants, blew on her hands for good luck, and grasped the box firmly. Finally, with one strong pull, the lid came off.

Inside the big red heart lay rows of neat mathematical symbols. Each symbol had been decorated with tiny sugar beads forming miniature Pikachu expressions—pouting, glaring, crying, laughing… Each one carefully made, each one carrying the weight of one person’s feelings for another.

Suddenly, Shu Yan’s throat tightened, raw and parched as though seared by fire. Her nose burned, her eyes stung, tears threatening to spill. She tilted her head back, struggling to hold them in, taking big gulps of air. She wanted to call Yao Shuhan’s name, but no sound would come out.

“Shu Yan, happy Valentine’s Day.”

The voice drew Shu Yan’s gaze back down. Yao Shuhan, like a magician, pulled a yellow rose from the vase on the side table and held it out to her, a faint smile at her lips.

Shu Yan’s eyes dimmed. She didn’t take the flower. She only stared blankly at her and asked,
“Why not red?”

Yao Shuhan shrugged.
“Red roses on Valentine’s Day are how lovers say they like each other. I couldn’t exactly give you that. This yellow rose stands for pure friendship. It’s my blessing for you—”

“Yao Shuhan, do you think I don’t know that yellow roses can also mean farewell to love?”

Abruptly, Shu Yan seized Yao Shuhan’s hand, her eyes fierce, locking onto her startled gaze.

But Yao Shuhan quickly recovered her calm and smiled softly.
“Yes, it can mean that. But what I truly want to give you is a blessing of pure friendship.”

“Yao Shuhan.”

“Mm?”

Shu Yan tightened her grip and yanked her closer, until their foreheads touched, nose to nose, breaths mingling hotly in the narrow space between them.

For a moment, everything fell silent.

“Yao Shuhan,” Shu Yan whispered, her warm breath brushing against Yao Shuhan’s burning skin, “don’t think I don’t know what you’re feeling.”

Yao Shuhan stayed quiet, her eyes closing briefly, her lashes brushing against Shu Yan’s cheek like ticklish feathers.

Shu Yan lowered her eyes.
“I always thought—if you like someone, you have to say it. Even if you fail once, as long as there’s still a chance, it doesn’t matter if you fail again.”

Yao Shuhan chuckled faintly, lowering her gaze.
“That’s because you’ve never truly loved someone. Your thoughts are childish.”

“How do you know I haven’t loved someone?”

Startled, Yao Shuhan lifted her head, staring at her blankly.

A sly, confident smile curled Shu Yan’s lips. She reached out her hand.
“Come on. Let me take you somewhere.”

Pulled along, Yao Shuhan slipped into her shoes. “Where are we going?”

“Don’t ask. You’ll see.”

The streets glowed with neon lights. Students wandered with buckets of roses, calling out to sell. In shadowed corners, couples kissed passionately, strangers awkwardly looking away.

Shu Yan held tightly to Yao Shuhan’s hand, walking faster and faster until they were running.

Every time they passed a rose seller, Shu Yan bought them all—five yuan a stem. She shoved every armful into Yao Shuhan’s arms. Soon, Yao Shuhan couldn’t hold them anymore. Roses fell to the ground as she bent to gather them, only for Shu Yan to press another armload into her hands.

“Enough, Shu Yan! Enough!” Yao Shuhan pleaded.

Shu Yan only gave her a deep look, saying nothing. She took half the roses to lighten the burden, then kept walking, holding her hand and carrying the rest.

The night deepened. Few pedestrians remained. Headlights swept past them, alternately cloaking and revealing them in light and dark.

“Shu Yan! Where are you taking me?”

Shu Yan didn’t answer, only tightened her grip, as if she were holding the rarest treasure in the world. Something you only get once in a lifetime—lose it, and it would never come again.

The river surged in waves, crashing against the embankment with a dull roar.

The night wind was cool and damp, reddening their faces.

At the bridge over the river, Shu Yan piled all the roses into Yao Shuhan’s arms. She stood there, clutching the countless red blooms, her black hair streaming in the cold wind, the lamplight above glittering in her eyes like stars.

“Shuhan.” Shu Yan stepped closer, leaning in. She raised her hand to stroke Yao Shuhan’s cheek, her fingertips cool against soft skin. Her voice was low and hoarse, her gaze intense. “Your eyes… they speak.”

Yao Shuhan looked up at her blankly, silent, her gaze locked on Shu Yan as if unable to turn away.

Shu Yan lowered her forehead, brushing against Yao Shuhan’s hair, whispering,
“They’re telling me… you still love me.”

Heat welled at Yao Shuhan’s eyes, tears spilling down.

Shu Yan trembled, cupping her face, kissing her tear-streaked cheeks, licking away the salty wetness with the tip of her tongue. It tasted bitter, and her heart twisted painfully. For the first time, Shu Yan realized a heart could hurt this much.

Her whole body shook as she held Yao Shuhan’s face. Her voice quavered.
“They also tell me… I’m an idiot. A complete idiot. You were always here, but I never understood.”

“Stop,” Yao Shuhan begged, clutching the roses, backing away, shaking her head.

Shu Yan caught her chin in one hand, her shoulder in the other, refusing to let her escape.
“And they say… Yao Shuhan loves me.”

“I told you to stop!” Yao Shuhan cried, struggling desperately.

“Shuhan, I like you.”

Shhh—

In that instant, Yao Shuhan’s mind went blank.

The roses tumbled from her arms, scattering like bl00d across the ground.

Shu Yan’s lips pressed against hers—cold against cold. The faint scent of olive oil lingered at their noses. Shu Yan’s tongue licked at Yao Shuhan’s lips, tasting every corner, then parted her mouth to suck at her sweet, delicate lips, biting gently. Finally, she tried to slip her tongue deeper—only to be shoved away.

“Shu Yan! Are you crazy?” Yao Shuhan’s face was burning red, her eyes swollen, her lips flushed, her long hair tangled in the wind.

Shu Yan stepped forward and hugged her, burying her face in her neck, breathing softly.
“I’m not crazy. I know exactly what I’m doing.”

Yao Shuhan’s shoulders trembled, her voice breaking with sobs.
“Do you really know what you’re doing?”

Shu Yan nodded, kissing her forehead tenderly.
“I know. I’m confessing. I’m telling you I like you. I want to be with you. I want to date you.”

Yao Shuhan tore herself free, glaring at her with pained eyes before turning away. Shu Yan hurried after, grabbing her hand. Yao Shuhan shook her off. She tried again. Shaken off again. Again and again, until finally Shu Yan managed to catch her hand and ran in front of her.

“I told you—if you like someone, you have to say it. Even if you fail once, as long as there’s still a chance, it doesn’t matter if you fail again.”

“Shu Yan! You don’t understand! It’s not as simple as you say—just because you say you like me, and I say I like you, that doesn’t mean we can—”

Shu Yan silenced her with another fierce kiss, sucking hard at her lips before pulling away and holding her tightly, eyes blazing.
“Maybe it’s hard. But how will we know if we don’t try? Maybe… if we try, we can.”

“…”

Looking into Shu Yan’s determined, sincere gaze, Yao Shuhan’s heart ached with both bitterness and sweetness. Shu Yan was always confident, always resolute, always managing what she herself could not.

But this time, Yao Shuhan knew—she was right, and Shu Yan was wrong.

The rejection of family, the scorn of society, the electric shocks of “therapy,” the nausea of forced emetics, the endless darkness and waiting—Yao Shuhan had endured them all. She could never let Shu Yan endure the same. She could never let the person she loved most suffer as she had.

Shu Yan, you must go back. Back to the light. Where I am… is not where you belong.

Yao Shuhan gently removed Shu Yan’s hand from her shoulder. A helpless smile tugged at her lips.
“Shu Yan… it’s been twelve years. What makes you think I still love you?”