Math Teacher, Please Get Lost (GL) - Chapter 27

A few days later, the issue of Tea and Books featuring Yao Shuhan’s photo arrived at school. That slim little magazine was passed around in the office, and eventually ended up in the students’ hands, circulating through Classes 12, 13, and 14. During break, Shu Yan saw the students in her classroom pointing at the photo of Yao Shuhan smiling sweetly with a book in her hands. Warmth spread in her chest—but when her eyes landed on the author’s name, Lan Xi, her expression darkened.

In the end, her plan to get an interview with the beautiful math teacher hadn’t worked out. Not only did it fail, it had even brought her trouble.

After that little rooftop gathering, Lan Xi had clung to Shu Yan completely—sending her text messages every day, calling her from time to time, and even asking her out on weekends, whether it was to watch a movie or have Western food.

Shu Yan had told her many times that she was busy, but Lan Xi always brushed it off with, “It’s fine, I’ve got time, I can wait,” and then would suddenly appear in front of her, impossible to avoid.

Shu Yan was never someone with a particularly good temper. Finally, she confronted her directly:
“Senior, you said yourself you weren’t interested in me. What’s the point of this?”

Lan Xi only smiled. “I’m not interested in you, that’s true. But for my own sake, I need to cling to you a while.”

“For your own sake?” Shu Yan asked.

Lan Xi hummed in assent. “I have my own purpose. Helping you chase after Yao Shuhan also helps me.”

The more Shu Yan heard, the less she understood. “What’s your relationship with Shuhan?”

Lan Xi didn’t answer directly, only saying, “There’s no direct relationship—only an indirect one. You only need to remember that everything I’m doing benefits you, little junior.”

Shu Yan didn’t like the teasing lilt in her voice. “Call me by my name.”

Lan Xi shifted the subject. “What does Yao Shuhan call you?”

“That’s none of your business,” Shu Yan glared.

Lan Xi shrugged. “You really have no sense of fun. I can’t imagine how someone as romantic as Yao Shuhan could fall head over heels for you. Aversion therapy doesn’t even—”

She cut herself off abruptly, clapping a hand over her mouth. For a moment, her face dimmed, but she quickly replaced it with a smile. “Forget it. You didn’t want to see me, right? Then I’ll leave now. See you next week.”

“Wait!” Shu Yan stopped her, walking forward with furrowed brows. “What did you just say about aversion therapy?”

Lan Xi hesitated a moment, then replied, “Nothing.”

Shu Yan wanted to press further, but Lan Xi walked away quickly. Shu Yan still had to tutor students at the apartment later that afternoon—chasing her now would be inappropriate. She had no choice but to bury her doubts for the time being and go home to prepare exam papers.

She carried Pao Cai (the dog) back home from the weeds, her hands coated in dirt. After washing them off with cold water, the cracked skin stung and itched, so she thought of finding her hand cream. She searched the house but couldn’t find it.

She leaned against Yao Shuhan’s bedroom door. “Shuhan, have you seen my hand cream?”

Yao Shuhan was lying belly-down on the bed with a book, floppy rabbit ears of her cartoon pajamas drooping over her eyes. She pushed the ears back. “Hand cream? Haven’t seen it. Use mine.” She reached toward the vanity for a bottle of hand oil, but her arm was too short, knocking the other bottles so they rattled.

Shu Yan stepped in. “I’ll get it. Which one?”

“The one that’s pinkish-red.”

Opening it, Shu Yan squeezed some out. “Wow, that’s strong rose.”

“Freebie. Don’t like it, but no reason not to use something free,” Yao Shuhan said, flipping a page.

“What scent do you like then?”

“Lily,” she answered without hesitation.

Shu Yan rubbed the cream in, then bent down to pick Yao Shuhan up and set her against the headboard. Yao Shuhan squirmed, trying to escape from her arms. “What are you doing?”

Shu Yan glanced at her chest. “Yours is smaller than mine already, don’t flatten it more by lying like that.”

Yao Shuhan blinked, looking at Shu Yan. She’d never cared about such things before, but now that it was mentioned, she became curious. “What’s your size?”

Shu Yan froze, lowered her head, and muttered, “Thirty-six.”

“Couldn’t tell,” Yao Shuhan said, sitting up more eagerly. “And you?”

Shu Yan slipped an arm around her waist. “What about you?”

Yao Shuhan snorted, kicked her off the bed. “Why should I tell you? Get lost.”

Shu Yan had been sitting half off the bed already, so with Yao Shuhan’s sudden hard kick, she toppled to the floor with a loud thump. Groaning, she rubbed her backside, then climbed back up, leaning on the bedframe. “Teacher Yao, strong legs you’ve got there.”

Leaning against the headboard, Yao Shuhan huffed, “Perfect for kicking pests.”

Shu Yan’s face darkened. She pounced back onto the bed. “What did you just say?”

“Get off me!” Yao Shuhan pushed against her.

But Shu Yan wouldn’t let go. “Why am I a pest, huh? I’ll show you what being really pest-like means.”

“Shu Yan, what are you doing? Get off me right now or I’ll kick you again!”

Ding-dong—

The doorbell rang.

Shu Yan straightened up to check. Yao Shuhan seized the chance to shove her off, smooth her clothes, and said, “It’s your students. Go let them in. I need to change.”

Shu Yan gave her a look and clicked her tongue. “Look how nervous you are—like you’re being caught cheating.”

“Shu Yan! Watch your mouth!”

Snorting, Shu Yan went to open the door and handed shoe covers to her students. Still, she felt a little sulky—if they’d arrived a little later, she might have succeeded.

Wait. Succeeded?

Shu Yan froze for a second. What did “succeeding” even mean? What counted as actually winning Yao Shuhan over? They couldn’t keep muddling along like this forever. Thinking back to certain late-night searches involving finger sleeves, Shu Yan admitted her own experience was pitifully shallow. She didn’t know a thing. But who could she ask about that…?

Well, there was someone—but she really didn’t want to ask that person.

After distributing the test papers, she told the students, “Forty minutes. I’ll collect them after that. Pace yourselves.”

“Okay.” They bent over their papers. The questions were tough; without hurrying, they wouldn’t finish.

Yao Shuhan came out to the dining area, holding a dull gray tube. “Shu Yan, is this your hand cream?”

Lost in inappropriate thoughts, Shu Yan jumped when called. “Huh? Oh, that? Yes, where did you find it?”

“Were you daydreaming? That’s rare. This hand cream looks so rugged I thought it was shoe polish. I put it in the shoe cabinet.”

Pfft… Tiny suppressed giggles came from the dining table. Both women looked over. Two girl students flinched and stammered, “Sorry, we didn’t mean to… Oh! So Teacher Shu and Teacher Yao live together?”

Yao Shuhan didn’t know what to say. “Mm.”

Shu Yan rapped the table. “Twenty minutes left—half your time’s gone. Fail and you get another test paper.”

The girls panicked and bent over their papers again, swearing never to speak another word.

“Slave-driver,” Yao Shuhan muttered as she carried a cup of hot water back.

Shu Yan smirked, her eyes trailing after the curve of Yao Shuhan’s skirt-clad hips. Somehow, they looked even better wrapped in fabric than bare—perky and shapely. It unnerved Shu Yan. She had never before noticed such details about any woman. But lately, she couldn’t help looking at Yao Shuhan with tinted eyes, especially when Shuhan sulked or was being teased. Stroking her chin, she wondered how Yao Shuhan saw her. What was it that little brat Zhao Kaiqi had said? Mature and sexy? …Not bad.

“Women need to dress up. If you want her to like you, you’ve got to appeal to her tastes. Do you even know what type she likes? Someone like you has no femininity—just plain, scruffy, messy—”

“Stop!” Shu Yan cut Lan Xi off. “I don’t wear makeup. Fine, call me plain. But messy? Who are you calling messy?”

Loosening her robe, Lan Xi frowned at the obvious hickey on her neck in the mirror, her phone still clamped between shoulder and ear. “A woman whose hand cream gets mistaken for shoe polish. If that’s not messy, what is?”

“I told you that story so you’d recommend me a hand cream, not so you could insult me!” Shu Yan snapped.

Lan Xi poured coffee into her cup, looking out the window at the night view. “She said she liked lilies, didn’t she? Just buy lily-scented then.”

“Does that even exist? I’ve never seen it,” Shu Yan said doubtfully.

“Shu Yan, have you ever even gone shopping? Bought cosmetics?”

“I go shopping with my mom for discount sales. For skincare, I use Chunjuan Baby Cream, and Yumeijing too.”

Lan Xi nearly choked. Holding her porcelain cup steady, she repeated, “Chunjuan? Yumeijing?”

“Yeah. I used Pipidog too, but Shuhan forced me to switch to olive oil,” Shu Yan said.

Lan Xi massaged her temple. “Shu Yan, how old are you?”

Funny—why did Lan Xi ask the same thing Shuhan had asked? “Just had a birthday not long ago. Twenty-nine.”

On the other end came Lan Xi’s exasperated roar: “You’re nearly thirty and still using Chunjuan and Yumeijing? If I were Yao Shuhan, I’d look down on you too!”

Shu Yan froze. She thought of Shuhan’s dresser, full of bottles and jars, her closet of clothes—business suits, gowns—her daily makeup routine, spa visits on weekends… Meanwhile, Shu Yan herself was still stuck in her middle school casual style. She had never doubted her own appeal before; she still had suitors, after all. In fact, she’d been quite satisfied with herself.

But Yao Shuhan was meticulous. People said like attracted like, that shared interests were the seed of romance. Could Shuhan’s coldness toward her partly be because Shu Yan lacked femininity?

The more Shu Yan thought about it, the more uneasy she felt. Softly, she asked, “Are those surface things really that important?”

Lan Xi chuckled. “Let me ask you: Do you like Yao Shuhan soft and fair, or dry and shriveled?”

“Soft and fair!” Shu Yan answered without hesitation.

“Exactly. So Yao Shuhan likes a glamorous Shu Yan, not a messy one.”

“Why glamorous?” Shu Yan frowned.

Lan Xi tapped her lips thoughtfully. “Probably because your vibe is a little… cheap.”

Grinding her teeth, Shu Yan shot back, “Right back at you. Ha.”

Lan Xi only went on, “How about this—next weekend, free up a day and I’ll take you shopping.”

“I don’t have time.”

“Don’t rush to refuse. Just one day. If it doesn’t work, then treat it as fun. But if it does work… heh.”

Shu Yan lay back on her bed with the phone, touching her nose, blinking. “Fine…”

Who knows… maybe it really would work.