Chapter 83 Cherry Blossom Viewing 1 "No, doctor..."

"No, the doctor's recommended leave is two weeks, so you can't take any more time off."

Your teacher replied to your email quickly, meticulously rejecting your request to continue your leave.

well.

It's really comfortable and quiet to stay at home.

After the TV station paid you your fee, you've been ordering takeout every day and haven't even left the house, thus avoiding any possibility of getting involved in strange events.

You thought you might as well continue this kind of life until you get out of this instance, so you took a sip of hot water, took a fake temperature with your thermometer, and sent it to the teacher via email, but the other party didn't show any leniency.

However, there was no room for sentimentality to begin with.

bite--

You received another new email. It's from your teacher again.

"After the blizzard, the weather warmed up, and the early spring cherry blossoms have already bloomed. If you miss them, your study abroad experience will definitely be a regret."

The attachment contains a hand-drawn poster featuring several men and women in uniforms reaching out to you from outside the frame amidst a flurry of pink cherry blossoms.

You don't really want to participate.

You rubbed your hair, slammed the laptop shut, and threw yourself onto the bed.

Class is class, why are you admiring cherry blossoms? It's the last week, can't you just be quiet for once?

Hey, speaking of which...

Looking at the painting hanging on the wall, you once again feel the urge to lift it up.

From the first day you moved into this house, you disliked this painting. But even after you "tamed" the house, you still get a chill every time you think about changing the interior decoration.

It's because you're starting to feel irritable again, and your heart is heavy that you're starting to pay attention to many trivial things again.

As I watched my fingers reach for the tassels on the hanging painting, that indescribable feeling of panic washed over me again.

You pulled your hand back and covered your face with the blanket.

"Aaaaaah!"

After letting out a venting fit of screaming inside, you pick up the computer, place it on your lap, and keep sighing.

This language teacher doesn't usually get involved, but when there's a real need for a schedule, it's never changed.

If you're going to say something, all you can say is "the collective" and "don't cause trouble." So what do you do? You can only smile and open a translation app, using all sorts of formal language, and humbly say that you "will try your best to recover, are very interested in the cherry blossom viewing party, and can't wait to go out with your teachers and classmates and experience Japanese culture ^ ^".

"Cherry blossom viewing requirements..." You read through the attachment outlining the preparations needed to participate in the cherry blossom viewing event and made a list.

This is no casual activity; each student not only has to dress up nicely, but also bring some homemade snacks.

"Hanami Dango?" You search for traditional foods you can prepare, scrolling through the page and muttering the words on the screen. You flip through the page and see a picture of three brightly colored little round dumplings strung together on a tender green leaf, which is quite cute.

But you always feel that if there's a part where you bring your own food, what if there's some hidden task that requires more thought?

—You have been trained to be a suspicious, involutionary personality.

Making ordinary sweets can be a bit monotonous, especially during cherry blossom season. While the popular "Hanami Dango" is a classic, it may not be particularly eye-catching, and you might even end up making the same thing as someone else.

Keep scrolling down. This one's too easy, I won't do it; that one's too difficult, I won't do it...

Finally, you decide to try making a more creative petal-shaped yokan.

This dessert has a transparent agar jelly base with brightly colored flower petals embedded inside. It's not difficult to make and it's quite clever. You can simply buy some cherry blossom petals and put them in the mold.

This way, a frozen spring scene can be created.

Having set your sights on something, you quickly went out to a nearby local specialty store to buy agar powder and salted cherry blossoms.

These cherry blossoms are preserved by salting and then drying. This process allows the flowers to retain their original shape, and even the pale pink color is very well preserved.

The shop assistant told you that these salted cherry blossoms are usually used as decorations for tea snacks and wagashi (Japanese sweets), and are especially popular in the spring.

Exceeded your expectations, I'm happy.

Back in your dorm, you put on an apron, arrange the materials, and begin making the product step by step.

First, dissolve the agar powder in water, heat and stir until completely transparent, then add a little white sugar to taste.

5ch's cooking posts are very detailed and informative, with every little tip being very useful.

For example, you should first soak these salted cherry blossoms in water for a short time so that they can regain their softness, and then gently place them on the bottom of the mold with small tweezers.

Once the agar mixture has cooled slightly, carefully pour it into the mold, making sure the cherry blossom floats in the center.

It looks simple, but it's actually... quite difficult.

Your eyes barely left the mold, because the petals would shift if you weren't careful, or the solution would solidify too quickly, leaving many air bubbles inside.

The snacks are ready; now you need to prepare your clothes.

The teacher suggested that everyone wear some traditional Japanese clothing, rather than being too formal.

Fortunately, the "you" in this world is a typical Japanese girl who loves Japanese culture. The "you" has several yukatas in her wardrobe, which are either travel souvenirs or yukatas that she may have prepared for various events.

After looking around, you finally found a yukata that was neatly organized and had a postcard tucked into its lapel.

This yukata has a light blue base, adorned with cherry blossoms and fluttering butterflies; it's simple yet perfectly suited to the occasion.

And on the postcard…

"Dear Customer: When wearing a yukata embroidered with cherry blossom patterns, it is best not to remove the cherry blossom petals, otherwise the cherry blossom tree will 'remember' you and you may get lost the next time you go to see the blossoms."

interesting.

Should we get a different set?

You think about it over and over, and if the postcard was just a joke, then you don't need to care, since this is the only outfit you feel comfortable in; but if it wasn't a joke, then maybe you can use that statement in reverse.

You lay the yukata flat on the bed, checked that the collar was neat and the sash was intact, and also found a small handbag to match it.

This handbag looks like it was found in a flea market; the opening is decorated with copper cherry blossom patterns, giving it a rustic yet unique feel.

Imagine yourself carrying this bag while admiring the cherry blossoms, wearing a yukata, and holding a box of freshly made cherry blossom yokan (sweet bean jelly).

You were amused by your own imagination and thought it was fine to just stay hidden among the other tourists.

On the other side, the pastries finally cooled and solidified.

You take the cherry blossom yokan out of the mold and gently press every corner. The transparent kanten is as clear as crystal, and the petals are like a beautiful scene suspended in time.

They were neatly arranged in a small dish with a cherry blossom pattern, and each piece of yokan seemed to shimmer.

You let out a long, satisfied sigh, feeling like a complete culinary genius.

This is not just a dessert; it's a small work of art brimming with the spirit of spring.

While packing, you suddenly smell a faint floral fragrance.

The aroma wasn't like the simple smell of pickled flower petals; it was more like a spring breeze blowing from afar through the mountains, making one feel both light and subtly tinged with an indescribable sadness.

You look down and notice that the cherry blossom yokan next to your handbag is emitting a faint glow, as if the petals inside are truly alive.

interesting.

You touch your chin, a hint of anticipation rising in your heart.

While preparing the items, you gradually changed your mind from initial resistance. Not for any other reason than that you felt your happiness was almost unreal.

It's like something good is about to happen.

It was getting late, so you carefully packed the cherry blossom yokan into a portable food box, prepared your yukata and handbag, and checked the list of items needed for the event one last time.

Just as you were about to go to sleep, you felt a pang of melancholy again.

Cough cough, going to school is still not a happy thing.

the next day.

After a two-week break, you return to the language institute classroom, only to find the atmosphere inside somewhat subtle.

It wasn't until class ended that you realized one of the female classmates was missing—not in terms of the number of students, but rather that she had clearly been "replaced" by another person in the game. Similarly, several boys were also missing.

Did they leave after completing the mission in this instance?

You don't know anyone here. Even the girls, after initially suggesting you use 5ch to search, aren't too keen on getting close to you. Every newcomer here is like that, as if afraid of getting involved with each other.

So you don't know about their situation, nor are you interested in it; you're just thinking about it casually.

Having missed two weeks of classes, you felt dizzy and wanted to run away during the morning lecture. Finally, get out of class ended at noon, but the teacher only gave you half an hour to rest before you had to gather at the school gate.

As you were packing your schoolbag, you looked up, frowned, and glanced around.

Am I overthinking it? I have this feeling like someone was watching me just now.

However, the class is already quite diverse today... so put that aside for now.

Soon, you and your classmates gathered at the school gate as instructed by the teacher.

The weather here is really strange.

Two weeks ago, it was snowing heavily—even without the influence of the Snow Woman, the weather was still terrible those days—but these past few days, after the weather warmed up, the temperature has been rising like a rocket.

Today is a bright and sunny day. A warm spring breeze caresses your face, and you take off the jacket you've been wearing on your shoulders and hold it in your arms.

Most people were dressed in neon-colored clothes, but one girl thoughtfully wore a short cheongsam paired with a trouser skirt. She chose to meet the requirements of "dressing up" in terms of makeup and headwear, and wore sneakers on her feet.

Even so, the teacher kept looking at her, which probably made her feel guilty and uncomfortable, so she hid behind you as if seeking help.

You stepped forward, slightly shielding her from the teacher's scrutinizing gaze.

Everyone arrived quickly, and the teacher, no longer concerned about whether anyone had obediently followed the dress code, which was clearly a soft rule but was being strictly enforced, greeted everyone with a smile and called them to gather.

The group followed her along the path to the cherry blossom viewing spot.

That place isn't far; it's near Beixian University.

The cherry blossom trees lining the roadside have fully awakened from their winter slumber, their branches laden with delicate pink blossoms, and sunlight filtering through the flowers, casting dappled shadows.

The wind blows, and petals flutter down, some landing on your shoulder, while others twirl and fly away.

However, these flowers are not fragrant at all; it's just that the pink clouds covering the trees are visually stunning.

You have arrived at the cherry blossom viewing spot chosen by the teacher.

On weekdays, there are hardly any other tourists around; only some people who are at home meeting with friends.

The teacher pointed to a lush cherry blossom tree and gestured for everyone to spread out their picnic blankets and sit down under the tree.

You quietly followed the other classmates over and sat down casually.

The grass under the tree was soft and damp. You reached out and touched it, but something felt off.

I bent down to straighten the hem of my yukata, then looked up at the cherry blossoms covering the tree, and felt that this moment was as serene and beautiful as a painting.

"Everyone, have you prepared any snacks?" The teacher clapped her hands.

"Yes." You adults, who may not be that old in real life, responded loudly and in unison like elementary school students.

"Let's see what everyone's thoughts are, shall we?" the teacher said with a smile.

A row of snacks was neatly arranged on the picnic mat. Some were pink cherry blossom cakes, some were dumplings sprinkled with soybean powder, and a few students even brought experimental products that looked like a disaster. Although they didn't look very appealing, you could at least tell that they put effort into them.

So, is the dim sum competition about to begin?

At this moment, I felt that my light red, translucent cherry blossom yokan was not conspicuous at all among these foods.

Thankfully, the teacher simply said, "That's quite an experience. Why don't we all use the Japanese words we've already learned to describe the process and feelings of making the pastries?"

"Hey—" everyone made a sound of cheating.

Okay, that's fine for just an introduction.

But... you break out in a cold sweat, and now you finally feel the pressure of being a "student".

You've rehearsed what you're going to say in your mind countless times, and you're even secretly copying other people's sentence structures. Hmm, you could just replace the object with yokan (sweet bean jelly), wait, speak slower...

It's finally your turn to speak. The anticipation of "Don't say anything wrong!" makes your heart race.

"Eh..." You cleared your throat, lowered your voice, and tried to hide your guilty conscience. "First of all... Eh, the materials were bought. After that..." You paused, trying to recall the words you had memorized earlier, "Agar powder, and, hot water, mixed together."

“…ta.” The teacher suddenly spoke up, startling you. “It’s not ‘tui yi lu’. Pay attention to the tense, it’s very important.” She was just correcting your grammar.

Thank goodness.

You rearranged the sentence to read it correctly.

Your voice was dry and monotonous. These sentences weren't complicated, but when put together, they made you so nervous you could barely breathe. As you spoke, your eyes darted around involuntarily, making you look like a robot reciting a memorized text.

"Finally, pour it into the mold and wait." You thought to yourself, "Finally, we've reached the end," and let out a soft breath. "Well... that's about it." After saying that, you lowered your head and swallowed the breath that almost made you choke.

Although these sentences were so simple that they were hard to evaluate, thankfully the teacher didn't care whether you had written them entirely on your own or how difficult they were. She just nodded, very satisfied with your expression and courage.

While the students around you were still waiting to speak, they were practicing holding their breath, and the two girls who had already finished speaking quietly gave you a thumbs up, to which you responded with a smile.

Most of the other students did similarly, though some did not do very well. The teacher simply assigned them more homework and didn't say anything else.

Is that all? It really was just like an ordinary field trip.

Just as you were thinking that, a skinny man got stuck in the shell.

This skinny guy is usually just an inconspicuous one among the boys; you've never really noticed him before.

His expression was as stiff as a stone.

The teacher looked at him and smiled somewhat strangely: "It's your turn. Please begin."

The skinny man coughed and managed to speak, "Uh, I...I..." He raised his head, his brows furrowing slightly, "Fry flour, eggs, and breadcrumbs in oil."

His Japanese is quite fluent.

Look at him, then look at the teacher; even a fool could tell something was off.

For a moment, those who had been practicing silently with their mouths open stopped moving and looked at the two of them with some confusion.

"Can it be made with just flour and eggs?" the teacher asked in a calm tone.

“Croquettes, deep-fried…yes…” the skinny man stammered, tapping his fingers incessantly beside his leg, seemingly struggling to find the right words.

He was parched and tried to retrieve his food box, but the teacher slowly picked it up and examined it closely.

“It looks like there’s a desiccant packet in your croquette,” she said.

"How is this possible?" The skinny man was dumbfounded.

In front of everyone, the teacher used two fingers with sharp manicured nails to pick out a small piece of paper—hidden in the corner of the crispy crust of a croquette.

"Lying isn't the mark of a good student," the teacher said regretfully, shaking her head.

"I... bought it at the supermarket." Seemingly sensing the threat in the teacher's words, he immediately admitted it, but then immediately defended himself: "I didn't do it well, but I fried it again."

As soon as he said that, several classmates covered their mouths and chuckled, and one boy even laughed out loud.

The teacher's smile gradually faded, replaced by a cold, insincere one.

Her gaze slowly shifted to the gaunt man, darting like a snake between him and the food box, as if she were pondering something.

Sunlight shone on the teacher's glasses, and the reflection made her expression too faint to see clearly.

"Red bean paste, a secret Marseille!" The skinny man immediately slid to his knees, even exaggeratedly kowtowing on both knees. "I tried my best, but it wasn't very good. This is still a dish made with all my heart!"

The teacher did not say anything.

When their ultimate move failed, silence spread, and the students dared not utter a sound.

The teacher slowly straightened up, and with an almost ceremonial gesture, gently removed her glasses and carefully wiped them a few times with a white handkerchief.

Then, she put her glasses back on, folded her hands in front of her, and spoke with an unusual calmness: "I understand, but unfortunately, since you've come to the cherry blossom viewing party, you have to follow the rules."

"Not following the rules can really cause trouble for others."

Upon hearing this, the gaunt man's face changed chameleon-like several times, finally freezing there ashen-white. Even you couldn't help but clench your fists, a sense of tension flashing through your heart.

However, the teacher's tone remained calm. She paced back and forth on the grass a few times, as if racking her brains about what to do next.

"Please forgive me, I will leave immediately and will issue a formal apology statement later." The skinny man reacted quickly, finding a way out for himself before the teacher could say what to do.

"Alright then. Since you've made up your mind, please follow me." The teacher turned and walked towards the forest path beside her, saying without looking back, "I'm your teacher, so if you leave halfway, I'll be responsible for your safety along the way."

The skinny man paused for a moment, because that path was not the way he had come from.

At the end of the path ahead, the farthest point was pitch black, which looked very ominous.

"Hey, someone save me..." the gaunt man cried out in despair, looking around in hope that someone would step in to stop him or save him directly.

But everyone kept their heads up, not avoiding his gaze at all, and no one offered to help. A few boys even muttered sarcastic remarks like, "Who told you to go to the supermarket to buy it yourself? Making something to eat isn't hard work."

"Aren't you coming over yet?" the teacher stopped and urged.

As she spoke, the gaunt man's body jerked and throbbed as he leaned toward her.

"No, no, save me!" The gaunt man struggled against his own body, his panicked eyes finally landing on you. "Hey, sis, yes, it's you. You're strong, right? Please save me! I can tell you, they..."

Another tall, thin man sprang up and kicked him toward the teacher.

The skinny man let out a wail and fell to the ground. His body then wobbled and followed the teacher's steps on its own, eventually disappearing into the woods.

The air felt frozen, but not entirely because of the changes that had occurred with the skinny man.

You tilted your head and looked at the tall, thin man who had suddenly kicked away the skinny man, full of curiosity.

"Do you have some scheme in mind to deal with me this time?"

There's really no grudge between us, but if I had to pick one, it would be what happened on the first day of class.

You only disciplined a guy who had no connection with any of them. And you're already holding a grudge?

The tall, thin man simply turned his head away after hearing your words. It was unclear whether he was afraid of you or had some secret he was afraid you would see through.

"I'm sorry, a student took up everyone's time." The teacher had returned to the group, her face now bearing her usual kind smile, as if nothing had happened.

Although each student then dutifully explained the process of making the sweets in their own Japanese, they all became extra careful, speaking in a consistently low and flat tone, afraid of saying the wrong thing and attracting the teacher's attention again.

You don't know what awaits you next, but you're not afraid.

The sun was still shining brightly, and the cherry blossoms were still in full bloom. As for that skinny man, he had vanished without a trace, leaving not a sound behind.