Math Teacher, Please Get Lost (GL) - Chapter 9

Guo Xiaoxiao sealed her favorite photo in plastic, slipped it into a lace-edged envelope, and handed it to Yao Shuhan.

“Head Teacher, if only either you or Teacher Shu were a man.” Guo Xiaoxiao sighed.

Yao Shuhan’s hand trembled, ripples spreading across the water in her cup. “Why?”

Pointing at the photo of Shu Yan’s radiant smile and Yao Shuhan’s tender gaze, Guo Xiaoxiao said dreamily, “If one of you were a man, you’d be a perfect match!”

“Don’t talk nonsense. We’re both women, don’t let your imagination run wild.” Yao Shuhan sipped her tea and pretended to calmly flip through her lesson plan.

“Head Teacher, why don’t you find a boyfriend?” Guo Xiaoxiao pressed, oblivious to the saying, curiosity killed the cat.

Yao Shuhan tapped the glass with her pen. “Classmate Guo Xiaoxiao, good kids don’t go prying into others’ private affairs.”

Guo Xiaoxiao shrank her neck into her collar and replied timidly, “Oh, I know I was wrong.”

“Alright, go on now. Class is about to start.” Yao Shuhan glanced at the schedule. “Next period is politics. Teacher Mei doesn’t like students being late, be careful not to get scolded.”

“Hehe, thanks, Head Teacher.” Mission accomplished—she had delivered the photo—Guo Xiaoxiao happily skipped back to class.

When Zhao Tongtong came back after class, she slammed her books on the desk and collapsed into her chair like a deflated ball. “Ugh—I’m exhausted.”

Yao Shuhan lifted her gaze briefly, still writing her lesson plan. “What, just one period and you’re this worn out?”

“You don’t understand a fat person’s pain. Standing for eighty minutes straight and talking the whole time—I can barely breathe.” Zhao Tongtong twisted open her thermos. “Ugh, no water left! Shuhan, give me your cup, I’m dying of thirst.”

Yao Shuhan handed her the cup. “Plenty of well-rounded teachers around, but I’ve only seen you suffer like this.”

Zhao Tongtong gulped down the water. “That’s because they have strong lungs. I’m weak.”

“Didn’t you get tonic medicine from the Chinese medicine hospital? No effect?”

Zhao Tongtong choked. “Traditional medicine takes time, it’s not instant. Anyway—Shuhan, I need a favor.”

“What is it?”

“The arts troupe is staging an opera this year. Could you help me look over the script?”

Yao Shuhan paused, then looked up. “Why don’t you do it yourself?”

“I said I’d read it, but Teacher Cai insisted on having you check it.”

“…” Teacher Cai Qinwei, the music teacher in charge of the arts troupe, was also one of Yao Shuhan’s persistent suitors. Every year he delivered endless roses, chocolates, and symphony tickets—a tireless romantic.

Zhao Tongtong added, “They’re rehearsing today at 5:30 in the dance studio. Come with me, it’ll be fun to watch.”

“I’m not going.”

“I already promised Teacher Cai. Shuhan, do it as a favor for me.”

“No.”

“Shuhan…” Zhao Tongtong grabbed the hand holding her pen. “Don’t be so heartless!”

“…Fine.” Yao Shuhan sighed deeply. “But you have to go with me. We’ll just read the script and leave. Stop being a wingman all the time.”

“Okay, okay, deal!” Zhao Tongtong nodded frantically. She didn’t care about being a wingman—if she helped, Cai Qinwei would reward her. His relatives abroad could easily bring back LV or Chanel.

Yao Shuhan shook her head helplessly. The P.E. teacher Lin Zheyu, the arts troupe’s Cai Qinwei, and countless others she couldn’t even name—all of them were becoming harder and harder to fend off.

She couldn’t understand. With so many women in the world, why did these men cling only to her?

Did she give off some strange pheromone that made them circle around her endlessly?

If she really had such a power, then why… why had that person refused her humble love?

The office door was knocked twice. “Yao Shuhan, the group leader asked you to check the midterm papers in the copy room.”

“Okay.” Yao Shuhan put down her pen and stood. “Tongtong, wait here. If you sneak off, I’m not going.”

“Oh, go on, when have I ever snuck off?”

Yao Shuhan lowered her eyes. When haven’t you?

Downstairs, Zhao Kaiqi handed Shu Yan a photo.

“Teacher Shu, this one came out the best.” He pointed excitedly at his work.

“Not bad.” Shu Yan studied it carefully. The photo captured her well—bright eyes, straight nose, and sensual lips. Very nice indeed. Ah, I do look dashing here, this candid shot caught my charm perfectly. Excellent!

Huh?

Her eyes lingered on Yao Shuhan’s face in the picture—Shuhan’s head tilted slightly upward, her willow-leaf eyes elegant and pure, gazing intently at Shu Yan with an expression so focused and tender. That look… it seemed strangely familiar. Where had she seen it before?

“Hehe, thank you for the compliment, Teacher Shu.” Zhao Kaiqi brushed aside his bangs.

Out of nowhere, Shu Yan asked, “Do you think your Head Teacher Yao is prettier, or me?”

Zhao Kaiqi froze, dumbfounded. “Huh?”

Shu Yan chuckled, not sure why she even asked, just a casual slip. “Nothing, just kidding.”

Zhao Kaiqi scratched his head, brow furrowed. “Uh… well… I think you’re both pretty, but in different ways. Head Teacher Yao is the elegant, classical beauty type, while you, Teacher Shu, are more… mature and sexy, hehe.”

Shu Yan burst into laughter. “Oh, so you even know what sexy means? Been watching a lot, haven’t you?”

Zhao Kaiqi’s face flushed red like the pimples on his forehead, tongue-tied. “I-I-I haven’t! Teacher Shu, you can’t insult my noble character like that!”

Shu Yan tapped his waist with a ruler and shooed him out. “Back to class.”

She opened her drawer, tore into a pack of milk candies, and popped one into her mouth. The rich, creamy sweetness filled her senses, making reality feel almost unreal. Time had flown so quickly—the last time she’d eaten one of these was in high school. Once, seeing Yao Shuhan eat them in their apartment, she’d randomly bought a bag too, but had never opened it. Until now.

High school?

Shu Yan narrowed her fox-like eyes, straining to recall the hazy past.

High school…

A huge bouquet of roses.

“Thirty in total. The flower language is: Please accept my love.” Cai Qinwei stood in his suit and navy tie. “One more bloom every year.”

Yao Shuhan gave a weary smile, taking the bright bouquet. “Thank you.”

“Shuhan, you’re even more beautiful now.” He grinned, showing neat white teeth.

“Thanks.” She stepped around him. “I came for the script. Where is it?”

Cai pressed his hands together. “Oh, that? No rush. Sit for a while, watch the rehearsal—it’s a wonderful opera. I’m sure you’ll love it.”

“Teacher Cai, I only came for the script. After that, I need to go home.” Her voice was cool.

Cai nodded. “Alright. Then how about dinner later? We’ll read over it while we eat, and I’ll drive you back. How does that sound?”

“Sorry, Teacher Cai, I don’t have time. If you won’t give me the script, I’ll leave.” She turned toward the door.

“Wait, wait!” Cai rushed to block her. “Xingya, bring the script for Teacher Yao.”

“Okay.” Cui Xingya pulled a stack of papers from under a coat and handed it over. “Here you go, Teacher Yao.”

“Thanks.” Yao Shuhan took it and sat down.

“Shuhan, just read it here. Then maybe watch the rehearsal. After that you can go—alright?” Cai pleaded.

“Yeah, Teacher Yao, our opera is really good! Please stay and watch!” Cui Xingya clung to her arm playfully.

Sigh…

“Alright. Continue, don’t mind me.” Yao Shuhan exhaled softly.

Cai brightened, clapped his hands, and walked to the stage. “Everyone, today we’re honored to have Teacher Yao Shuhan with us! She’ll review our script and give us feedback. Let’s welcome her!”

The studio erupted in applause. “Hello, Teacher Yao!” the students chorused.

Yao Shuhan stood, waved, and smiled. “Hello, everyone. Do your best.”

Meanwhile, in the teaching building, Shu Yan realized she’d forgotten her keys. With no class that evening, she had no choice but to borrow Yao Shuhan’s.

She went to the third-floor office and found it empty. Spotting Yin Dapeng, she asked, “Teacher Yin, where’s Teacher Yao?”

Still embarrassed from his humiliation during the “Class Fourteen incident,” Yin Dapeng had lost interest in chasing Shu Yan. He replied flatly, “That genius Yao is probably in the arts building dance studio. The troupe’s rehearsal—she was asked to check the script.”

Shu Yan raised her brows. “Why the dance studio? Couldn’t she just bring the script back?”

Yin sneered. “That genius attracts people, you know.”

“Forget it, I’ll go find her.” Shu Yan left.

In the studio, the music swelled, lights bathed the stage, and students in colorful costumes rehearsed with props.

Cui Xingya dashed down. “Teacher Yao, why don’t you try on a costume too?”

Before she could refuse, a group of girls whisked Yao Shuhan backstage and dressed her in a lady’s gown, letting her long hair down and braiding two pigtails.

When they finished, Xingya even found a pair of non-prescription glasses. “Here, try these, Teacher Yao!”

Yao Shuhan hadn’t worn frames since college, relying on contacts instead. Slipping them on now stirred a wave of nostalgia. “Interesting.”

The girls praised how good she looked and hurried back to rehearse.

Yao Shuhan quietly read through the script: an adaptation of Turandot. Unlike the original, in this version the prince solved the riddle, but refused to marry the princess. Instead, he gave her a riddle: if she guessed his name, he’d marry her; if not, she’d let him return home. The princess failed, and asked why he would solve her riddle only to refuse her hand. The prince answered that he could not bear to see her kill again. Her beauty deserved respect through love, not hatred and slaughter. Finally, the princess understood, ruling her country with love and mercy, while the prince wandered the world.

The music ended, the curtain fell.

“Not bad. Perform it well, and good luck winning.” Yao Shuhan smiled, handing the script back to Cai.

“Thanks for the blessing—I will.” Cai caught her hand as he accepted it. “Shuhan, won’t you have dinner with me? Please think about it.”

“Yao Shuhan, I forgot my keys, could you—” Shu Yan pushed the door open, then froze at the sight of Cai holding Yao’s hand.

Yao Shuhan slowly turned her head. Her fair face, her willow-browed eyes, her twin braids, the quiet aura of the glasses…

In that instant, Shu Yan’s blurred memories sharpened, crashing over her like a tidal wave. She could almost feel the blazing summer sun of twelve years ago, smell the faint fragrance of grass in the air, and see a timid girl standing before her, blushing, bowing her head.

Then—

“Shu Yan, I like you.”

Shu Yan, I like you.

Shu Yan, I like you…

“You’re Yao Shuhan!” Shu Yan’s eyes widened as she stepped forward. “You’re Yao Shuhan.”