Math Teacher, Please Get Lost (GL) - Chapter 37

Shu Yan walked in and immediately saw Yao Shuhan sitting in the middle of the sofa, holding Pao Cai in her arms while watching TV.

She changed into slippers and quietly walked over to sit down.

Yao Shuhan was calmly watching the midday news on the LCD screen, full of stories about people’s hardships.

Shu Yan sneaked a glance at her, shifted her body, and carefully raised her arm to try and wrap it around her from behind. But Yao Shuhan, without saying a word, slid over to the other side.

Seeing her move, Shu Yan also scooted closer, once again trying to raise her arm, only for Yao Shuhan to slide further away.

Sigh, confession leads to leniency, resistance leads to severity. But confessing halfway still counts as half a lie. Shu Yan said, “Shuhan, I’m back.”

Crossing one leg, Yao Shuhan kept her eyes on the TV, not looking at her. “Mm.”

“Jiajia’s parents were super warm,” Shu Yan hurriedly tried to cozy up to her, “they even treated me to coffee!” She pouted. “Though it was a bit bitter.”

“Mm.”

Shu Yan tilted her head, studying her expression. That half-smile—what did it mean? Was she angry or not angry? Clutching onto Yao Shuhan’s arm, she rubbed against her, whining, “I reported to you before I left, didn’t I? You approved it!”

Yao Shuhan chuckled.

Shu Yan was confused. “Shuhan, what are you laughing at?”

Yao Shuhan leaned in close to her chest, sniffing lightly. Shu Yan toppled back against the cushions, stammering, “W-what are you doing?”

“Was it Jiajia who wore perfume, or Jiajia’s mom?” Yao Shuhan tugged at her collar and sat back down. “If you go out to meet someone, just say it directly. It’s not like I’ll eat you alive.” Lowering her gaze, she suddenly turned her head to look at Shu Yan and said, “If I ever catch you lying to me again, I’ll cripple you.”

Huh? Shu Yan grabbed her collar pitifully and sniffed herself. Damn, how did Yao Shuhan even pick up on such a faint scent? What a dog’s nose! And that stupid senior, spraying that useless perfume—ruined her carefully crafted plan just like that!

“Shu Yan.”

“Yes?” Shu Yan looked up when she heard her name—only for a burst of misty, fragrant spray to hit her face, several times in a row. She quickly raised her hands to block it, yelling, “What are you doing, what are you doing?!”

Yao Shuhan wasn’t about to let her go. She grabbed Shu Yan and kept spraying her with perfume, her tone fierce: “This is my house. Remember this well—your rank here comes after Pao Cai. Once you enter my house, you’re my family. It’s one thing to lie to me, but to come home carrying another woman’s scent? You must be tired of living.”

“I didn’t! You can’t just accuse me without sorting out the truth!” Shu Yan struggled desperately.

From the side, Pao Cai finished watching the whole show. The cat licked its paw, strolled over, jumped onto the sofa, and smacked Shu Yan’s face with its tail. Shu Yan pushed it away. “Did you even wash your tail before rubbing it on my face?!”

Yao Shuhan stomped on her foot. “It’s cleaner than your face.” Then muttered under her breath, “Shameless.”

That’s when Shu Yan finally realized—Yao Shuhan just loved picking fights with her.

But was she really mad? Not exactly. It was more like she was jealous and sulking. Shu Yan had once thought this kind of behavior was Yao Shuhan targeting her, still mad about that high school confession. But analyzing her personality, that wasn’t the case. Yao Shuhan wasn’t petty—if she truly disliked someone, she’d simply erase them from her world.

Calm and well-mannered toward everyone else, always courteous and composed, yet only in front of Shu Yan she turned into a huffy, bristling cat. That contrast… Shu Yan suddenly found it unexpectedly adorable—a phenomenon worth thinking about.

“Don’t you like me being shameless though,” Shu Yan muttered softly into the sofa cushions.

Yao Shuhan’s ears perked up.

Shu Yan saw her advancing step by step and shrank into the corner. “Shuhan, Shuhan, let’s talk this out calmly, calmly—”

Yao Shuhan pounced, tugging at her clothes and peeling them off piece by piece until only a large T-shirt was left covering her hips. Her long legs were bare, kicking around as she rolled on the sofa. “So cold!”

Grabbing her by the collar, Yao Shuhan hauled her up and tossed her into the bathroom, slamming the door. “Wash that scent off!”

No sound came from inside.

Why so quiet? Yao Shuhan frowned but refused to ask, standing firmly by the door.

Suddenly, the door opened again, a wave of steam billowing out. Shu Yan poked her wet head out, water dripping from her hair, and tugged at her hand. “Come join me?”

Yao Shuhan shot her a glare, folding her arms. “Wait here.” She went to the master bedroom, grabbed a big rubber duck, and handed it to her. “Here. Be good.”

Shu Yan weighed the duck in her hand, tilting her head. “Next time let’s bathe together and fill the tub with a bunch of little rubber ducks.”

“Sure,” Yao Shuhan lifted her eyelids lazily. “But I’ll soak you in disinfectant first.”

Shu Yan thought for a moment. “Fine. You bully me anyway.”

Yao Shuhan paused, then pushed her back in. “Hurry, before you catch a cold.”

But Shu Yan stood still at the doorway, droplets rolling from her forehead down her nose, staring at her with dark, unreadable eyes. It made Yao Shuhan’s heart itch.

Unable to resist, Yao Shuhan lunged forward, wrapped her arms around Shu Yan’s shoulders, and kissed her damp lips. She lowered her head and nipped her neck lightly, then shoved her back inside. “Go wash. Next time, I’ll keep you company.”

Shu Yan’s gaze deepened, like she was holding something back. Her fingers traced gently across Yao Shuhan’s cheek before she finally let go. “Thanks for the rubber duck. When break comes, I’ll take you to see real ducks.”

Yao Shuhan smiled. “Alright.”

The hot water poured down noisily. Droplets splashed onto Shu Yan’s face as she let out a long sigh.

Her fingers trailed from her ear down her neck, then chest, then slowly to her stomach…

“This jewelry box sells very well. Miss, are you buying a birthday gift for a friend?” The shop assistant was younger than Shu Yan, clearly a college student working part-time.

Staring at the shelves of dazzling trinkets made Shu Yan dizzy. She scratched her head. “Do you have envelopes?” She’d originally planned to go to the stationery shop, but they were already closed, and only this lifestyle store was still open.

Shu Yan really didn’t approve of stationery stores closing at six. She, as a people’s teacher shouldering the duty of nurturing the nation’s flowers, often worked until nine at night—how could business owners be so uncommitted?

The shop assistant suddenly understood and smiled. “Oh, you mean letter sets! Of course, we have those. This way.” She led Shu Yan to the third shelf, filled with colorful boxes and patterned tins.

Shu Yan had never paid attention to these artsy things before. She gaped. “What on earth are these?”

“They’re postcards,” the assistant explained with a smile. “Scan the QR code, and you can even record a message or play music.”

“That fancy?” Shu Yan picked up a tin and shook it by her ear. “Young people these days really know how to play.”

The girl laughed. “You don’t look that old either, sister.”

Shu Yan raised her brows. “True enough.”

“The letter sets are over there, but nowadays people like to pair postcards with letters. Or buy lots just to collect,” the assistant said, pointing to another shelf, then showing Shu Yan a basket nearby. “These are single postcards sold separately. If you don’t want a whole box, you can pick from here. They’re pricier per card, though. Depends how you want to mix and match.”

Shu Yan flipped through the basket. “That’s a clever sales tactic.”

The girl chuckled. “Stationery stores all do it like this now.”

“So expensive?” Shu Yan picked up a pack of colorful stationery paper and saw the price—7.5 yuan.

“That’s about the standard. There are cheaper ones too,” the girl said.

Shu Yan remembered back during her coming-of-age ceremony, when the school required everyone to write a letter to their parents. She had gone to the small shop near No.3 High to buy a 20-cent yellow envelope. The shopkeeper, not wanting to fuss over the change, gave it to her for free. Since then, Shu Yan had never written a letter to anyone else, nor bought envelopes or postcards.

Boys had written her love letters, but she usually forgot them right after reading. If she remembered, she’d at least reply with, “You’re a good person.” The more pitiful ones didn’t even get that—she’d get too busy and forget, leaving them to wait in vain.

Her gaze fell on a stack of brown kraft paper stationery at the top row. Shu Yan’s eyes lit up, and she pointed. “How much is that one?”

The girl looked up. “Forty-five for the set.”

“How many in a set?”

“Five envelopes, fifteen sheets of paper, and half a meter of hemp string.” She walked over to take it down. “Want it?”

“Mm…” Shu Yan rubbed her chin, thought a while, then nodded. “Alright, I’ll take it.”

The girl wrapped it with a piece of string. “Anything else?”

Shu Yan picked up a box of postcards illustrated with Jimmy Liao’s artwork. “Can these play voice messages?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll take a box. Show me how it works,” Shu Yan said, hopping over to the register.

Watching this tall, clearly grown woman bouncing around like a teenager, the shop assistant couldn’t help but smile—adorable.

She pulled out a card, scanned it with Shu Yan’s phone, and handed it back. “Just press record. Then when someone else scans it, they’ll hear your message.”

Shu Yan yelled into the phone: “Invincible Pikachu!”

The girl turned away, covering her mouth to hide her laugh.

Shu Yan scanned again and sure enough, her voice played back. Pleased, she paid. “Not bad! Technology is amazing nowadays.”

“That’ll be 73,” the girl said, handing back the change. “Come again!”

Expensive or not, Shu Yan felt it was worth it—since it was for Yao Shuhan.

As she walked, her stomach growled. She hadn’t eaten much dinner.

There were plenty of street snacks. Shu Yan remembered the day she and Yao Shuhan reunited—Shuhan had treated her to oden, which tasted pretty good. Thinking Yao Shuhan would like it, she planned to buy some back for her too. But when she reached the corner, the little cart with red lanterns wasn’t there.

Why wasn’t the oden girl here today?

A little disappointed, Shu Yan bought some spicy potato skewers instead. She asked the vendor auntie, “Auntie, what happened to the oden girl?”

The auntie shook the pot. “That girl hasn’t come for days! Said she wasn’t going to do this business anymore. She’s going to night school. Said it’d give her a better future.”

“Just give me one to eat now, I’m starving.” Shu Yan pulled a wooden skewer from the cut plastic bottle, speared a big potato from the pot, and took a bite. “Night school means a better future? That’s not necessarily true.”

Night school was just adult education—basically correspondence courses. Not comparable to a proper degree. Finding a good job wouldn’t be so easy.

The auntie scooped potatoes and veggies into a paper bowl. “I don’t know about that. But there was a pretty young lady with her, and I heard it was that lady who told her to study. Said she could get a job at a publishing house or something afterward…”

“Cough—cough cough cough—”

The auntie quickly handed her a bottle of water. “Slow down! Choked, didn’t you?”

Shu Yan gulped down water and wiped her mouth. “I’m fine. Auntie, make me another one—no spice this time, sugar and vinegar.”