Chapter Thirty-One
In the line below the stage, the baby-faced girl looked at the band-aid that was clearly visible on the face of the boy reading his apology on stage, and then, as if remembering something, she glanced back at him imperceptibly.
Perhaps she lingered a little too long, because her deskmate noticed her unusual behavior. He first glanced around to see if Tang Miaosong was there, and after confirming that it was safe, he breathed a sigh of relief. Then he turned his head to look at the baby-faced girl, and quickly turned back to avoid being noticed.
"What's wrong?" he asked, his lips not moving, his voice barely a whisper.
The baby-faced girl didn't speak; she was still somewhat dazed.
Not hearing a sound, she assumed the baby-faced girl was speaking too softly. Her deskmate quickly turned to look at her again: "What did you say? Say it again, I didn't hear you clearly."
The baby-faced man glanced at You Congxi again, then turned back to look at Shen Yue on the stage, who was passionately reading his self-criticism.
The two of them...
Her hand, hanging by her side, was pinched, and the baby-faced girl came back to her senses, hearing her deskmate ask her for the third time, "What happened?"
The unbelievable guess in the baby-faced man's mind slowly began to rise.
She gasped, turned her head, and whispered in her deskmate's ear, "Don't you think that Shen Yue and You Congxi...?"
The rest of his words were interrupted by a sudden stinging pain in his hand.
The baby-faced girl paused, her body making a choice before her mind could even process it, a result of her ten years of student life.
She quickly straightened her body and scanned the surroundings like a detector, still clinging to a sliver of hope even though she knew the odds were against her.
My heart was in my throat.
"Stop aiming, what are you still struggling for?" Tang Miaosong's cold voice rang out in the deathly silent team.
It's over.
As soon as the baby-faced man closed his eyes, a slideshow of his first seventeen years of life began to play automatically before his eyes.
"Aren't you coming out yet?" Tang Miaosong said, his voice turning somber as he crossed his arms.
Yes, sir.
Babyface nodded in response, and with a death wish, walked to the back of the line, casually pulling his deskmate along.
"He Qizheng, wake up your deskmate." The Chinese teacher tapped on the lectern, his expression indifferent.
He Qi turned his head and saw that his deskmate was face down, buried in his arms, fast asleep and oblivious to the world around him.
He Qizheng: "......"
Dude, you dare to sleep in your Chinese teacher's class? That's awesome!
He cleared his throat.
He was fast asleep.
He nudged Shen Yue's arm: "Shen Yue."
Shen Yue turned his head to the side and continued sleeping.
He Qizheng didn't even need to look to know how sour his Chinese teacher's face was.
His voice, lowered, was urgent: "Chen Yue, wake up."
The classroom was as quiet as a funeral home long before the Chinese teacher spoke. At this moment, He Qi's anxious voice echoed in the classroom of dozens of people, and dozens of pairs of eyes were staring at this first person to openly challenge the teacher in Chinese class.
The local tyrant of Xinghai District battles the Lion's Roar Queen.
Awesome.
Some of the more audacious students had their hands hidden under the table already swiping furiously in the group chat.
Two seconds later.
Shen Yue sat up straight and met the gaze of the Chinese teacher behind the lectern.
Xun Songyue’s lioness roar, which was about to escape her lips, was forcefully suppressed.
Because Shen Yue consciously went to stand in front of the blackboard at the back of the classroom.
The lion's roar turned into two thick breaths exhaled from her nostrils. Xun Songyue slammed the few sheets of composition paper she was holding onto the lectern, and placed her other hand on the table as well. She coldly swept her gaze around the classroom, making the students below not dare to breathe, and they all lowered their heads, afraid of making eye contact with the queen.
"Heh, now they're all behaving like quails." Xun Songyue had been teaching for many years and had seen many students bully the weak and fear the strong. She considered herself to be a tough character since her debut. After teaching for so many years, this was the first time she had encountered students who so blatantly provoked her.
“You Congxi,” Xun Songyue commanded, “Stand up.”
Within a radius of ten miles, everyone around Qu Qi, who was sitting next to You Congxi, was stunned.
A trip to Congxi?
Not Shen Yue?
The students in Class 7 immediately shifted their gazes from Shen Yue, the newspaper reporter, to You Congxi.
Xun Songyue swallowed back the words she was about to say.
Because You Congxi also consciously stood on the other side of the blackboard.
Xun Songyue: "..."
The whole class: "..."
The two messengers stood on the left and right, one soundly sleepy, the other expressionless as if in a provocation.
Xun Songyue tapped on the edge of the lectern, drawing the class's attention back to the podium.
"Don't try to play tricks on me, you two. You're playing with the things the teacher left over."
Xun Songyue paused for a moment, then continued, "You Congxi, I know your writing has always been a weak point. I created this language arts group specifically for people like you who struggle with language arts, but—"
She narrowed her eyes and picked up the selected composition paper again: "Have I ever said that plagiarism and ghostwriting are untouchable red lines in my class?"
The classroom fell silent instantly.
You Congxi pursed her lips, as if she wanted to say something.
"Teacher Xun, I threatened her."
Shen Yue beat him to it, turning his head to watch You Congxi tell a lie with a straight face.
Xun Songyue: "?"
"......threaten?"
“You mean,” Xun Songyue said, “that you held a knife to You Congxi’s neck and threatened to kill her if she didn’t write your essay?”
After thinking for a moment, Xun Songyue added, "Do we still need to write three more?"
"Hmm." Shen Yue replied without changing his expression.
You Congxi: "..."
"Pfft." Someone let out a short laugh, which caused a huge ripple effect, and the classroom was instantly filled with cheerful laughter.
Xun Songyue couldn't help but curl the corners of her mouth for a second, whether from anger or laughter, her expression was quite interesting.
Seeing the fascinating expressions on Tang Miaosong's face, Shen Yue lowered his head for once, which was quite unusual.
“Now you know shame,” Tang Miaosong said slowly, picking up a cup from her desk and blowing on it. The rising steam obscured her clenched back teeth.
When she first started teaching Shen Yue in the first year of high school, she wanted to quit her job as soon as she opened her eyes every morning. Every night before going to sleep, she would put her phone to her ear and play NetEase Cloud Music. In just one hour, she could meditate from her first cry at birth to her first day as a teacher. In this philosophical journey of reflection, she always wondered if entering the field of education was really the right choice.
After teaching the first day of high school, the new semester was finally about to start with class reshuffling. She felt a sense of lightness in her life. That night, she went out with her friends to a barbecue restaurant and karaoke bar. At the dinner table, her friends toasted her, saying that it hadn't been easy for her and that she had finally made it. She said, "Oh, it's nothing. It's what we teachers should do." In fact, she accepted all the toasts and got completely drunk.
With a smile on her face, Tang Miaosong spent a perfect summer vacation and happily stepped into her job, beginning to imagine that her teaching career as a second-year high school student would never be worse.
Everything came to a halt when she saw the class assignment list posted in the group chat.
The first name in the first line is Shen Yue.
"Shen Yue," Tang Miaosong put the water glass back on the table, crossed her arms, and pretended to listen, "Tell your teacher what you think?"
To Shen Yue, these words meant, "What do you want?"
He opened his mouth.
"Stop." Tang Miaosong stopped him, glanced at the clock on the wall, picked up the meeting minutes book, stood up, and said to him and You Congxi next to him, "You two can reflect on yourselves in the office now. When I come back from the meeting, tell me your thoughts, or you can discuss it in advance and come up with a lie that the teacher can barely accept."
Tang Miaosong went out.
Shen Yue caught a glimpse of You Congxi's bored profile out of the corner of his eye, and the secret to pursuing people that He Qi had taught him long ago, which suddenly flashed into his mind, and he felt a little restless.
Learn to be humorous and keep her smiling.
Shen Yue quickly turned his head to glance at You Congxi, who was clasping his hands, and coughed lightly.
You Congxi glanced at him but didn't say anything.
All the teachers in the office were in a meeting, leaving only the two of them in the small, semi-enclosed room.
From the vantage point of You Congxi, you can see the leaves outside the window that are half green and half yellow. They are a bit ugly, but quite vibrant, gently brushing against the clean glass window as they sway in the autumn wind.
She stared blankly at the leaves waving at her outside the window.
I hate it, but I don't hate it that much, just like someone next to me.
"Little Fish," Shen Yue called to her.
"What?" She snapped out of her daze and turned to look.
Shen Yue tossed an orange he'd stolen from somewhere in his hand and grinned at her.
Do you know why an orange can leave a room and turn into a glass of juice?
You Congxi was still immersed in the emotions from just now and hadn't reacted yet. Upon hearing this, she subconsciously asked, "Why?"
Another gust of autumn wind blew in through the open window, bringing with it a crisp, earthy smell. You Congxi was slightly taken aback, and the next second he felt a weight on his shoulder.
She looked down, and Shen Yue's hand just happened to be taken out of her pocket. The orange in his hand was gone, and the pocket felt heavy, making the fabric on her shoulder feel slightly tight.
You Congxi seemed to smell a faint orange scent.
“Because,” she heard Shen Yue say.
The office door was pushed open, but Shen Yue, with his back to the door, didn't notice.
His voice echoed in the empty office.
"—Orange leaves, and it's like a glass of juice."
You Congxi: "..."
After a half-second of silence—
"Shen Yue! Who gave you permission to steal the teacher's oranges?!"
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