Chapter 21 Part 1

Lou Yixuan nudged the door open with her elbow, a refreshing smile fixed on her face.

But the moment she stepped inside, that smile gradually crumbled and faded.

Because she saw Lin Huayan without her glasses—the same eyebrows and eyes from eight years ago, unblocked by frames or lenses. This was the Lin Huayan she remembered most vividly, the one that fascinated her the most.

Seeing Lou Yixuan walk in two steps and then stand there dumbfounded, Lin Huayan called out, “What does Teacher Lou need from me?”

The person at the door shivered again.

Damn it, get it together, she cursed herself inwardly, plastered the smile back on her face, and walked toward Lin Huayan’s desk.

“Last Wednesday was still a holiday, so I missed sending Teacher Lin my Mid-Autumn greetings. I came specifically this week to make up for it.”

The office held only Lin Huayan.

After hearing Lou Yixuan’s purpose, she frowned.

“Afternoon tea snacks.”

Without asking Lin Huayan’s opinion, Lou Yixuan leaned down and placed the items on her desk. “I brought some for Teacher Du and Teacher He too—they both accepted. Please take these, Teacher Lin.”

The nine individually packaged pastries scattered across the desk featured eye-catching Flower Moon patterns and brand logos on their exquisite packaging.

Lin Huayan recognized their origin at a glance.

Old Lin, let me tell you, this brand’s cakes and sweets are so delicious. Their Mid-Autumn gift box this year, Flower Moon—I’ve already taste-tested it for you. Totally presentable. Here, I got you two boxes: one for you to eat, one for your parents.

On the first day of National Day holiday, Qin Fengru had rushed to the school and given her two boxes.

One box cost 699 yuan.

She hadn’t asked Qin Fengru, but right in front of her, she’d looked up the price online and transferred the money.

It pissed Qin Fengru off so much that she blocked her on the spot.

It didn’t last a few days—by Mid-Autumn, Qin Fengru had unblocked her again.

They went through this a few times a year; she was used to it, and so was Qin Fengru.

Lin Huayan had taken both boxes of mooncakes home, leaving it to her parents to eat or regift as they saw fit.

So this was Lou Yixuan’s [Can we add without transferring money?] She could personally relate to how Qin Fengru felt when blocking her.

Chest tight with frustration.

Fire with nowhere to vent.

She sneered inwardly and dove back into her laptop work.

“I’m watching my sugar intake—not big on sweets.”

“…” Lou Yixuan didn’t get annoyed; her attention was completely hooked by Lin Huayan’s eyebrows and eyes. “You can share them with colleagues. They’re yours now—the choice is up to you.”

“Attack if advancing, retreat if withdrawing—Teacher Lou’s calculations are strategic as hell. If you say so, then fine.”

“…”

A cold front swept through. It chilled Lou Yixuan down to her hair follicles.

But Lin Huayan without glasses, with light makeup, exactly like the old days—it made her unable to stop stealing glances.

“Anything else?”

Lin Huayan didn’t look up, her fingers tapping the keyboard relentlessly—a clear dismissal.

“…”

Why is she mad again?

Where did I piss her off this time?

Why has Lin Huayan gotten so quick to anger?

Lou Yixuan asked herself three questions in a row.

As she pondered, the math curriculum director from the same office walked in wiping her glasses.

Seeing someone standing by Lin Huayan’s desk like she was being punished, she teased, “Teacher Lin, did you drag a student here for standing punishment during class today? Did the girl disrupt class or sneak phone time?”

Lou Yixuan jumped.

She turned with an awkward smile and raised her hand in greeting. “Director Li, I’m the art teacher for Class 9, Lou Yixuan.”

Director Li put on her glasses and peered. “Oh oh, Little Lou! I’ve heard of you. It’s been a month since school started, and we haven’t formally met. Nice to meet you—you look so young, even though you’re a teacher now.”

“I may look young, but I’m not that young. Art teaching differs from academic subjects in methods—someone like me can blend into the students, break down barriers, and encourage bolder, freer artistic imagination and creativity. But it’s all the same goal: no matter the subject or teaching strategy, it’s about effectively helping students master knowledge and skills.”

Lou Yixuan’s poised speech and insightful views impressed Director Li.

She nodded in praise. “Well said—my narrow-mindedness. No offense meant by those earlier words, Teacher Lou—don’t take it to heart.”

The two went back and forth, sidelining Lin Huayan entirely.

The keyboard tapping had stopped long ago.

A voice call notification rang from Lou Yixuan’s bag. She pulled out her phone, annoyed at forgetting the time.

She hit decline and quickly typed back to Du Heming: [On my way down.]

“Teacher Lin, Director Li—won’t disturb you anymore. I have plans with Teacher Du and the others for lunch in the cafeteria. Heading out now. Enjoy your lunches too.”

“Go on, hurry.”

Director Li eyed her slender waist. “With that skinny frame, you can’t weigh more than 100 jin. Eat more, build up your strength.”

“Thanks for the concern, Director Li. I’ll keep it in mind.”

Lou Yixuan’s exit was much quicker than her entrance; she even remembered to close the door properly behind her.

Inside, Director Li grabbed her thermos and filled it with hot water from the wall dispenser.

On her way back, she paused by Lin Huayan’s desk and blew on the steam rising from her cup. “Teacher Little Lou is so sweet-looking and approachable—your class students must adore her.”

Not a question—a statement of fact.

“Mm.”

“What’s with you?” Director Li laughed helplessly. “She came to give you mooncakes, not ask for a loan.”

“…”

“These mooncakes…”

“Afternoon tea snacks,” Lin Huayan said. “Heard they’re pretty good. Borrowed flowers to offer Buddha—Director Li, feel free to try some.”

“Won’t stand on ceremony then.” Director Li casually took two.

Multiple flavors, but she didn’t fuss over picking.

Everything in moderation.

Once Director Li returned to her seat, Lin Huayan stowed the remaining seven in her drawer, saved her files, shut down her computer, and grabbed her bag.

…

Du Heming hadn’t taken the gift box back to her office.

She was close with the grade group teachers and often shared snacks; one box of these “pricey” pastries wouldn’t go far.

Plus, the box itself was high-quality and pretty—probably cost more than the cakes inside.

Perfect for storage back at the dorm.

He Huan was new to their grade and past the snack-hoarding age—no such worries for her.

“For the sports meet in a couple days, I plan to use Teacher Lou’s pastries as a reward for the top-scoring student in our class events. She won’t mind, right?”

“Of course not.”

“I’m not as generous as Teacher He, or as disciplined. I’m keeping mine to eat myself.” Du Heming hugged her gift box, teasing Lou and He.

“Before I give mine away, want me to feed it to Teacher Du instead?” He Huan teased back.

“No need. I don’t steal food from kids.”

“Is that so? Then those sunflower seeds on your desk…”

“That doesn’t count! Those are spoils of war confiscated from the brats in Class 5. Gotta teach ’em ‘no return’—long lesson for next time, see if they dare eat or play in class again. If anyone asks for them back, send ’em to me—I’ll give ’em another scolding.”

The half-bag of sunflower seeds Du Heming munched in He Huan’s office had been seized by He Huan from Class 5 students—if it happened in her class…

“Teacher He, let me tell you, I only ate them for your sake. If they try cracking seeds in my class next time, I’ll buy three or five jin myself and make those kids shell every last one in my office—no leaving till it’s done. Shell ’em till they cry. Unless…”

He Huan asked curiously, “Unless what?”

Du Heming grinned slyly, looking dopey. “Unless Teacher He comes to plead for them.”

“My influence is that big?”

“Absolutely.”

The three chatted and laughed on the way to the cafeteria, unaware of Lin Huayan trailing a hundred meters behind.

As they plated their meals and were about to sit, sharp-eyed Du Heming spotted the lone Lin Huayan at the entrance.

She played it smart, didn’t holler an invite, and asked Lou Yixuan instead: “Lou Lou, you just dropped off pastries to Teacher Lin—no mishaps, right?”

“What mishaps?” Lou Yixuan paused mid-wipe of the table.

Du Heming winked, nodding toward a serving window. “Teacher Lin came alone. Why didn’t you invite her…?”

“I thought she and Director Li had a routine—lunch together every time.”

That first week in the cafeteria, Director Li had sat with Lin Huayan, pretty far from them.

Du Heming’s recent cafeteria invites hadn’t included Lin Huayan either.

“You’re way off.”

Du Heming corrected her misconception. “Teacher Lin appears and vanishes like a ghost—no fixed lunch buddy, no set time…”

Before she finished, the woman across the room stood up.

“Teacher Lin!”

Lou Yixuan waved from afar, her voice sweet and clear. “We’re over here—come join us!”

The called woman nodded back.

“…” Du Heming cut off abruptly and bit her tongue, setting down her chopsticks.

In the brief wait for Lin Huayan, Lou Yixuan wiped down the chairs to her left, stuffing the dirty napkin under her tray.

Du Heming nursed her tongue tip, wildly imagining plot twists.

Seeing Lin Huayan seated, she blurted, “Teacher Lin’s wearing contacts today?”

The sun rose in the west.

“Mm.”

Outside class, Du Heming was used to Lin Huayan’s one-word replies.

Rainbow farts flowed freely: “I always said those glasses framed away our Director Lin’s beauty! Look at those eyes—so pretty…”

“Teacher Du, have the chicken leg.”

Lou Yixuan clamped the chicken leg—the one Du Heming had egged her to take—and gave it to her. “This one’s too big; afraid I can’t finish it.”

He Huan stifled a laugh, saw Du Heming’s bitter face, and took pity.

“Suggest swapping. Two’s pushing it. Teacher Du’s got a smaller one—trade with Teacher Lou.”

Chopsticks untouched, still clean.

Feeling she’d been rude, Lou Yixuan transferred the small one to her plate and apologized. “Sorry, my bad. Can you forgive me, Teacher Du?”

“…Sure, forgiven.” Du Heming laughed wryly.

Sometimes I wonder if I’ll die a chatterbox.

But her cursed mouth couldn’t stay shut a minute: “Lou Lou, you said you’d tell me your money-making ways. Spill.”

What she could hear, Teacher Lin and Teacher He could too. After all, Lou Yixuan had gifted three shares.

“Selling paintings.”

Lou Yixuan didn’t mince words or dodge—laid it out straight. “All my income before signing with Haifan came from that.”

“Not even graduated and earning on your own talent—Lou Lou, I’m green with envy.”

Du Heming was genuinely impressed. “Rough price range per painting? If you can say, great; if not, no pressure—I’m not…”

“Low end three to five thousand, high end thirty to fifty thousand.”

“Teacher Lou means in AUD, right?” He Huan chimed in.

“…Yes.” Lou Yixuan’s slip didn’t fly.

“AUD?”

Du Heming glanced right at He Huan, forward at Lou Yixuan. “I’m so out of touch—what’s the AUD to RMB rate? Worth more than RMB, yeah?”

The long-silent Lin Huayan clarified: “About 1:4.5. 10,000 AUD is roughly 45,000 RMB.”

Holy crap!

Du Heming mentally calculated, sucking in a breath.

Lou Yixuan was at least a millionaire!

In today’s world, a million RMB savings wasn’t brag-worthy, but Lou Yixuan had just graduated—barely twenty-something!

“Lou Lou, you’re amazing, awesome! Young and already rich—total role model.”

“Teacher Du, you’re so over-the-top.” Lou Yixuan blushed at the praise.

She knew Du Heming meant no shade, but worry gnawed: Would Lin Huayan think I’m showing off? Arrogant?

One tiny slip amid perfection. Who’d have thought Teacher He would catch the currency, or Lin Huayan know the exchange rates cold.

“Am I? Haha! All straight from the heart.”

Seeing Lou Yixuan flustered, Du Heming scored a win and beamed. “Okay okay, I’ll shut up—or you’ll stuff my mouth again.”

She picked up the chicken leg. “I’ll stuff it myself.”

Lou Yixuan shook her head with a smile.

Teacher Du’s mindset and demeanor didn’t seem like that of a 33-year-old at all—more like 23.

“Hold on.”

He Huan suddenly called out to Du Heming, leaning over to rummage in the bag on the seat next to her and pulling out a small square packet.

“I’ve got some disposable gloves here.” She tore open the corner. “Teacher Du, Teacher Lou, one for each of you—just right.”

“Teacher He orders takeout too?”

Du Heming set down her chopsticks and took them first, pulling out the gloves and handing one to Lou Yixuan.

Lou Yixuan caught it smoothly. Influenced by her surroundings, she channeled Du Heming’s flattery style: “Whether she orders takeout or not, Teacher He is the epitome of gentle and virtuous grace.”

He Huan tapped her plate with her chopsticks. “You two, enough already. Stop it and eat properly.”

“Got it, Teacher He.”

“Got it, Teacher He!”

They chimed in unison, then exchanged a glance and a smile before obediently shutting their mouths.

Lin Huayan’s presence was both faint and overwhelming.

Her eating movements were so minimal they only involved her wrists, her chewing so quiet it was softer than the rustle of the disposable plastic gloves—yet she would use her farther-left hand to nudge away when Lou Yixuan’s fingers were about to touch the oil-smeared rim of the soup bowl.

“There’s oil on the rim. Wipe it first before picking it up.”