Math Teacher, Please Get Lost (GL) - Chapter 5

Feng Xiaojun led the classmates of Class 13 in a fight against Class 12.

The reason was simple—everything started because of a paper ball. That morning, Guo Xiaoxiao was diligently sweeping the stairwell in their assigned cleaning area. Next door’s Class 12 student, Li Kexin, shamelessly swept the trash from Class 12’s corridor into the stairwell, which belonged to Class 13’s responsibility!

Startled, Guo Xiaoxiao went over and said,
“Classmate, how can you sweep your class’s trash into another class’s area?”

Li Kexin rolled up her sleeves and planted her broom on the ground, looking down arrogantly from the landing above.
“How can you say I did it on purpose? The paper ball just accidentally rolled down. Besides, why are you so petty? It’s just one extra paper ball to sweep—what’s the big deal?”

That ticked Guo Xiaoxiao off. She went up to argue,
“Every class has its own assigned area. Your class’s trash should be cleaned by your class. Why should I clean it?”

Li Kexin refused to back down, puffing out her chest.
“I never said you had to clean it. But so what if you just sweep it up?”

Guo Xiaoxiao clenched her teeth. Hmph, if she hadn’t said anything, she might’ve helped sweep it up. But after hearing such words, she refused—she would make Li Kexin sweep it herself!

Xiaoxiao rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath,
“Ugly people love to make trouble.”

Now, Li Kexin was the school beauty of Class 12. With her oval face and big eyes, she enjoyed the admiration of many boys. Surrounded by their constant flattery, she was usually unbearably arrogant. Who dared say she wasn’t beautiful?

“You ugly freak, what did you just say? Say it again if you dare!” Li Kexin couldn’t bear such humiliation. She threw her broom aside and shoved Guo Xiaoxiao. Xiaoxiao stumbled back and almost fell.

Coincidentally, this scene was witnessed by Feng Xiaojun, who had just stepped out of the bathroom.

Known as a “little hero who can’t stand injustice,” how could Feng Xiaojun tolerate a girl from his class being bullied? He rushed forward to shield Guo Xiaoxiao and sternly rebuked Li Kexin,
“What’s wrong with you, girl? How could you push your classmate like that!”

Li Kexin was frightened by his scolding, her eyes welling with tears as she whimpered,
“She insulted me first. Why are you yelling at me? Are you even a boy, picking on a girl like this?”

The moment the class beauty showed grievance, the boys of Class 12 were furious. A few hot-tempered ones stepped forward, fists clenched, and shoved Xiaojun aside.
“What’s your problem? How dare you yell at Kexin? Who do you think you are?”

Feng Xiaojun shook off their hands, eyes bulging in anger as he roared,
“You think our Xiaoxiao can just be bullied by you lot?”

The noise carried into Class 13’s classroom, where several boys rushed out. Seeing their classmates surrounded by Class 12’s boys, they instantly knew their side was being bullied, and quickly came to back them up.

More and more students joined in. The boys, hot-blooded at their age, refused to yield. The quarrel escalated until fists started flying.

Watching the chaos, Li Kexin realized she had caused a disaster. Panicked, she burst into tears. Guo Xiaoxiao also realized things had gone too far. She tried to pull Xiaojun back to stop the fight, but he shook her off.

Wang Xiao quickly rushed over to hold her back, warning,
“Don’t get involved! You’ll get hit. Go call a teacher right now!”

“Right! Let’s get Teacher Yao!” Guo Xiaoxiao snapped back to her senses and ran with Wang Xiao to the office.

Yin Dapeng had just brewed a cup of tea and was humming a tune as he strolled back to his desk. Before he could sit down, two students rushed in like a whirlwind, nearly collapsing onto Yao Shuhan’s desk.

“Well now, what’s this? You rabbits running so fast—is the classroom on fire?” Yin Dapeng set down his thermos and shook the English Weekly in his hand. “You seem pretty energetic—want me to give you extra homework tonight?”

Xiaoxiao perked up and clasped her hands together in mock-prayer, begging,
“Brother Dapeng, please don’t! Someone’s going to get killed—don’t pile on homework right now!”

Yin Dapeng chuckled, set aside his newspaper, and gestured at them for Yao Shuhan.
“Teacher Yao, take a look at your students. Not bad, huh? Their use of hyperbole is on point—extra homework feels like life or death. By the time they reach senior year, what, they’ll be talking about reincarnation?”

Yao Shuhan snapped her paperweight down on the desk with a sharp thud. Yin Dapeng immediately fell silent, lowering his head to his newspaper.

“What happened?” Yao Shuhan frowned slightly at the anxious students. “Calm down. Speak slowly.”

Guo Xiaoxiao caught her breath, pressing her chest as she blurted,
“Teacher Yao, there’s a fight!”

A fight? How could one break out so suddenly?

Students who fought were reported to the Academic Office, risking demerits, loss of class points, and damaging the homeroom teacher’s evaluation.

Closing her textbook, Yao Shuhan’s expression hardened.
“Who’s fighting? Tell me everything.”

“Teacher Yao, please just come quickly! No time to explain—they’re all fighting!” Wang Xiao had already reached the door, urging impatiently. “Homeroom teacher, stop being so calm—come now!”

“I’m coming.”

When she arrived at Class 13’s doorway, the boys were already bruised, some bleeding from scraped elbows.

“Finished already?” Yao Shuhan’s brows arched coldly as she spoke.

The boys stood in two silent rows—one by the wall, one by the windows—heads hung low.

“So bold when throwing punches, but now not a word?”

Feng Xiaojun couldn’t hold back, blurting out,
“Teacher, it was Class 12 who bullied Guo Xiaoxiao first!”

What? Class 12?

Wasn’t that Shu Yan’s class?

Ha. Like teacher, like students. A rotten homeroom teacher leading rotten kids.

“Teacher Yao, we didn’t bully anyone! It was Class 13 who insulted our Li Kexin first!”

“Did I ask you?” Yao Shuhan shot a glare at the buzz-cut boy from Class 12. He shrank and lowered his head.

“Which one is Li Kexin?”

Li Kexin stepped forward, eyes brimming with tears, voice trembling,
“Teacher Yao, I’m Li Kexin.”

This girl—clearly the type who only knows how to cry and act pitiful. Such a perfect match for Shu Yan’s class.

“Guo Xiaoxiao insulted you?” Yao Shuhan asked coldly.

Li Kexin covered her mouth, sobbing, not answering.

“What exactly did she say?” Yao Shuhan’s skin crawled—she couldn’t stand this type.

At her second prompt, Li Kexin finally stammered pitifully,
“She… she said I’m ugly…”

Remembering “ugly people love to make trouble,” Li Kexin felt humiliated all over again and cried louder. Her classmates rushed to hug and comfort her.

“….” Yao Shuhan suddenly found herself speechless.

Now, was that what counted as “insulting”? Calling someone ugly? And the boys—two girls have a little quarrel and they turn it into a full-on brawl?

Ridiculous.

“Well now, what’s going on here?”

Shu Yan appeared, resting a meter stick on her shoulder with her books in hand. From the second-floor stairwell, she had spotted the crowd gathered at the third floor.

The moment Class 12 students saw their homeroom teacher, they lit up, as though reinforcements had arrived. They all rushed to her side, crying,
“Teacher Shu! Class 13 bullied us, and Teacher Yao won’t even hear our side!”

“Oh?” Shu Yan patted the buzz-cut boy’s shoulder.
“You must’ve mouthed off to Teacher Yao, huh? Otherwise, why wouldn’t she listen? Isn’t that right, Teacher Yao?”

How would you know if you weren’t even here? Yao Shuhan nearly laughed from anger.
“Teacher Shu, since you’re here, take your class back and sort them out. I’ll educate mine as well. Let’s end this here—reporting it to the Academic Office won’t do anyone any good. Everyone, back to class. Morning reading starts now.”

“Alright.” Shu Yan nodded, then walked to Li Kexin, passing her ruler and books to another student. “Take these inside for me.” The girl obeyed. Shu Yan bent down and gently patted Kexin’s head.
“My Kexin is the prettiest—no one compares. Anyone jealous of you is just an ugly thing who’ll never marry well.”

Li Kexin sniffled, still sobbing.
“Teacher Shu… Class 13 bullied me…”

Shu Yan sighed, embracing her warmly.
“There, there. It’s alright. Next time, score 150 on the math exam and put them to shame.”

At the doorway of Class 13, Yao Shuhan turned back, watching Shu Yan cradle Li Kexin. Her gaze dropped, long lashes casting shadows under the light.

“Teacher, what are you staring at?” Feng Xiaojun craned his neck toward Class 12, only for Yao to push his head back down.
“Morning reading. Eyes on your book.”

Xiaojun pulled a face.
“Teacher, see how gentle Shu is?”

“If you like her, transfer to Class 12.” Yao tapped him on the head with her rolled-up test paper.

“Hehe… no way. I still like you best, Teacher! Every year so many male teachers give you chocolates, but you give them all to us. You’re the best!”

Yao’s lips curved in a small smile, though her eyes carried mockery.
“Next time Class 12 causes trouble, don’t be afraid. Fight back.”

“Eh?” Xiaojun froze. Did he hear that right?

A sly smile tugged Yao’s lips as she flattened the papers on his desk.
“As long as it’s Class 12 who starts, hit back. Rough them up if you must. If Teacher Shu scolds you, say I told you to do it. With their class—don’t be polite.”

Heavens above… Xiaojun was shaken. Teacher Yao, weren’t you once gentle and kind? When did you turn ruthless, teaching us to repay grievance with vengeance?!

“Um…” Xiaojun asked timidly,
“Teacher… do you and Teacher Shu have some kind of grudge?”

Yao flipped open the Analects on his desk, her tone calm.
“Xiaojun, what makes you say that?”

Xiaojun hunched his neck, hurriedly reading aloud.
“I didn’t say anything, nothing at all! Ahem—‘The Master said: To have friends come from afar, is that not a joy…’”

Yao Shuhan’s fingers turned the pages, the scent of paper pulp rising faintly.

She loved books, loved words, loved the fragrance of paper born from trees.

She had once written her dearest words on her dearest paper, passing her heart to that one person. She had once carried hope for the future, humbling herself for the faintest response.

But nothing came.

Setting the book down, Yao walked to the window, tilting her head toward the drifting leaves.

She thought—Shu Yan, it’s been thirteen years. Could the answer be different this time?