Chapter 47

New Year’s Day brought a three-day holiday: Thursday, Friday, and Saturday.

Tianmu Middle School’s annual Campus Top Ten Singers Competition was scheduled for the Wednesday before the break, from 1 p.m. to 4:30 p.m.

The preliminaries had each grade and class nominate two participants, judged by music teachers, parent committee members, and student union reps. The top half advanced to the finals based on average scores.

Lou Yixuan couldn’t teach her afternoon class that day, but the entire Class 9 had invited her to watch—after all, their class rep Zhang Xiao was performing onstage.

Zhang Xiao had ranked pretty high in the prelims: sixth place.

Her classmates teasingly called her “Old Sixth.”

Lou Yixuan skipped her usual midday lunch with Du Heming and the others.

She timed her arrival perfectly for the start of the competition, wearing a baggy high-neck sweater that faded from red at the top to white at the bottom, along with a white KN95 mask.

The playground was divided into sections for the three grades, and Class 9’s group stood out easily. The students had put their artistic skills to use, handcrafting banners and cheer materials for the class and Zhang Xiao—vibrant colors that caught the eye from afar.

“Teacher Lou’s here!”

Lou Yixuan approached from the back of the group when a student spotted her and pointed to a seat: “Teacher Lou, we saved you a stool.”

Of course, the stool was right next to Lin Huayan’s.

Preparations were mostly set, and things were still quiet as they waited for the host. Lin Huayan was already seated.

Lou Yixuan nodded, about to say thanks, but coughed a few times first.

In winter, masks weren’t always for illness—they could just be for protection.

“Are you sick?”

Lin Huayan stood at the sound of the coughs, concern etching her face as she approached and eyed Lou Yixuan’s outfit. “If you’re not feeling well, you didn’t have to come.”

The upper half looked warmly layered, but the black leggings clung tightly to her slender legs, revealing nothing about warmth underneath.

The fuzzy snow boots on her feet seemed decent enough.

“Just a little cold. Not a big deal.”

Lou Yixuan replied while stepping back a bit. “I promised Zhang Xiao and the others I’d come—I don’t want to break my word.”

With that, she turned, waved cheerfully at the students, and greeted them with a smile: “So, what’s the performance order for my much-anticipated class rep? Signs drawn yet?”

Class 9 was the only one from their grade with a finalist: Zhang Xiao.

Lin Jianlu jumped in: “Drawn this morning—sixth up. She’s already in the wings. What’d I tell you, Old Sixth?”

“You’re always picking on my poor class rep because she has a heart big enough to hold a boat.”

“…I-I didn’t! Teacher Lou, you’re biased. You didn’t see her bullying me.”

“Oh?”

Lou Yixuan glanced at the others, taking a Class 9 cheer flag from a classmate. She waved it like a tour guide verifying facts: “Tell me, has anyone here ever seen Zhang Xiao bullying Lin Jianlu?”

“Teacher Lou, I swear!”

A girl next to Lin Jianlu chimed in with a grin, loving the drama: “Your class rep’s never bullied Lin Jianlu. I’m their roommate too—I see Zhang Xiao getting pissed off at her every day. They’re total happy enemies. Hilarious.”

Laughter erupted across the group.

Lin Jianlu flushed red, ducking her head in embarrassment, unsure how to defend herself.

Lou Yixuan shook the flag again, then pointed to her throat, signaling quiet.

The person involved is baffled while bystanders see clearly. She wanted Lin Jianlu to hear firsthand how their classmates viewed their “dynamic” right now.

Better to recognize it early, reflect on her attitude toward others, sort out her feelings—avoid what needed avoiding, fix what needed fixing.

Lest things spiral out of control later, hard to rein in for everyone involved.

She didn’t oppose high school crushes, but she wouldn’t encourage them either. Best to let them raise their own guards.

Lou Yixuan stepped past a few students, affectionately ruffling Lin Jianlu’s hair and then the outspoken girl’s.

“Babies, think before you joke—put yourself in their shoes.”

“No one’s born only to laugh and never cry. No one’s naturally that forgiving either. She just chooses to bottle up the hurt and deal with it alone.”

“You’re a team—one wins, all win; one loses, all lose. That event-day unity? It should shine in the everyday too.”

“Same old rule: if my class rep lands top three, I’ll treat you all to… “

Lou Yixuan paused amid their eager stares, then drawled softly: “eat melon.”

The word from her lips drew groans from the whole class.

“Sister Xuan, you’re such a tease! Playing with our hearts!”

“Sister Xuan, no melon—we’ll trade that ‘melon’ for your cold germs!”

“Teacher Lou, it’s chilly today with that biting wind. No coat, sweater’s not windproof. I brought a thick scarf—want it? My hoodie has a hood for the breeze.”

“I grabbed an extra jacket. Take it, Sister Xuan? Not ugly, promise. Just a bit of paint…”

The students chattered noisily, but underneath, it was all care for Lou Yixuan.

Winning their hearts was its own comfort.

“Thanks for the concern, babies, but I’m bundled enough. Not cold.”

To prove it, she lifted her hem to flash the layers underneath. “See? No fibbing.”

Then she grabbed an extra handmade flag, stepped away from the group, and handed it to Lin Huayan: “Just in case, I’ll drag my stool farther off. Don’t want to give my cold to Teacher Lin or the kids.”

With all those students watching, what could Lin Huayan say?

She took the flag and watched Lou Yixuan haul her stool away.

But to her, this “farther off” meant just a bit away from her—and a lot closer to Du Heming.

Lou Yixuan settled on her stool, phone in hand, texting.

Her freshly permed and dyed hair from last week was fluffier, fuller, half-hiding her slightly downturned profile.

The muted red-brown maple shade made her skin look even fairer, softer—adding a touch of sultriness to her natural sweetness.

—Mainly ’cause she’s gorgeous. Anything she wears or dons looks good.

Remembering Lou Yixuan’s compliment at the dessert shop, Lin Huayan felt unworthy. That line fit Lou Yixuan best—every style, every outfit, stunning.

Truly stunning.

The host wrapped opening remarks, and the competition kicked off.

Lou Yixuan waved her little flag, sneaking a glance at Lin Huayan.

The flag she’d handed over was still in Lin Huayan’s grip, but treated like mere decor—no waving, no cheering vibe.

Not that she would. If Lin Huayan ever shook a flag and cheered? Tianmu Middle School legend.

[Du Heming: Don’t look right. Teacher Lin’s staring again.]

[Lou Yixuan: Not looking.]

[Lou Yixuan: What about after you gave Teacher He her birthday gift? No progress share?]

He Huan’s birthday was late December; Du Heming had planned ahead.

Sunday night, she’d ordered the winter limited cakes “Sui Sui Ping An” and “Shi Shi Ru Yi,” delivering them post-self-study to He Huan’s dorm.

No lingering—just set them down, stammer through apologies for her slip-up two weeks prior, wished Teacher He happy birthday, and explained: I know cake’s unhealthy late, and you can’t eat it all alone. Store said they keep fine chilled till tomorrow. Monday class meeting—you can share with students.

Du Heming taught chemistry in Class 5; they’d celebrated their homeroom teacher last Friday. She knew that.

So He Huan regifting to students? Perfectly reasonable—no one would question the source.

Like Mid-Autumn, when Lou Yixuan’s “Flower Moon” sweets went to athletes as rewards during sports fest.

Homeroom dorms had mini-fridges anyway.

Thoughtful for He Huan, gifting without expecting reply—a retreat as advance.

But Monday, observation showed He Huan hadn’t taken the cakes to the Teaching Building.

Instead, third period afternoon, she messaged: Dinner interest? Back to dorm—brought weekend eats.

That dinner included the cakes.

Afterward, “ice melted” with He Huan—chat flowed naturally again.

Or less He Huan forgiving her, more her forgiving herself.

[Du Heming: You haven’t shared either. ‘Courtesy demands reciprocity’—get it? You first.]

[Du Heming: C’mon Lou Lou, spill. Dying to know.]

[Lou Yixuan: Know what?]

[Du Heming: How you hooked our Director Lin! ]

[Lou Yixuan: …]

[Du Heming: Word is, tons of your class kids are shipping you and Teacher Lin’s CP.]

[Du Heming: Sneaky-watching your every move with her, whispering. See for yourself.]

[Lou Yixuan: Stop staring at me then.]

[Du Heming: Gotta, since you’re gatekeeping secrets.]

[Lou Yixuan: Didn’t spot Teacher He in Class 5’s group?]

[Du Heming: Handling stuff.]

[Du Heming: Oh, forgot to tell you.]

[Lou Yixuan: ??]

[Du Heming: Grade one’s not in her class? Post-mids, Ji Mingxin submitted no-evening-self-study request. Reason? Wild: ‘academic planning.’]

[Du Heming: Big world, wild ops. Never heard that one.]

[Du Heming: Wilder you won’t guess. Teachers He and Lin called her guardian for a talk. Guess who showed?]

[Lou Yixuan: Not parents, right?]

[Du Heming: They got summoned to principal’s office too. No word on others met.]

[Du Heming: After, Ji Mingxin skips evening self-study, doesn’t dorm.]

[Lou Yixuan: So Teacher He’s handling today is…? ]

[Du Heming: Dunno. Prob Ji Mingxin drama.]

[Du Heming: Chatterbox guy says some ‘relative’ of hers showed up causing scene. Didn’t bug stressed Teacher He.]

[Lou Yixuan: Irrational parents? Total headache.]

[Du Heming: Class 5’s already buzzing over her ‘special treatment’—rumors snowball, more trash talk than praise. Led to fights, dean office trips.]

[Du Heming: Kid’s ace grades, no denying. Personality? Weirder, no denying.]

Ji Mingxin was admitted as a “special hardship top student.”

Lou Yixuan had heard bits on her “good” and “weird” during solo lunches with Du Heming.

Fair take, no judgment—just chat.

Lost in their heated texting, head down on her phone, Lou Yixuan missed someone who’d been holding back watching her coughs.

“Drink some hot water.”

Plastic track muffled heels; Lin Huayan thrust the cup right under her nose before Lou Yixuan noticed.

She startled, phone flipped face-down on her lap, mouth opening—then itching throat triggered harsher coughs.

Worse than before, mask stifling breath.

“Take off the mask first, sip water, soothe your throat.” Lin Huayan’s worry showed, nearly reaching to feel her forehead.

Lou Yixuan coughed tears out, peeled one mask side, took the paper cup, and drank.

Temp perfect—not hot, not cold. Gulped like parched, throat eased, coughs stopped.

“Thanks.”

She took a few deep breaths and slipped her mask back on. “I’ll toss the cup myself. Or better yet, Teacher Lin, please stay away from me. I don’t want to get you sick.”

But Lin Huayan ignored her words and snatched the cup back anyway.

“Zhang Xiao’s up next. Listen to her sing, then head back. Or go to the office—my office. You can still hear and see everything from there.”

Lou Yixuan wanted to say no need.

But when she looked up and saw the furrowed brow of worry on Lin Huayan’s face, that line echoed in her ears—Lou Yixuan, is it really so hard to just listen to me?

It’s not hard at all.

Lin Huayan, listening to you is the easiest thing in the world.

So she flashed Lin Huayan a smile and followed her advice. “Okay. I’ll go after Zhang Xiao finishes her song.”

“If you want to keep listening…”

“Not really.” Lou Yixuan shook her head. “I’ve never been a fan of super noisy places. I told you why I came today.”

She had zero interest in going to Lin Huayan’s office either.

Director Li might or might not be there, but sitting in Lin Huayan’s spot? All that would do was pile on the misery.

She wasn’t about to seek out that kind of self-torment.

Up on stage, a new performer took over, switching from the previous sentimental ballads to a rap track.

The crowd erupted in an instant—music blasting, vocals thumping, cheers roaring nonstop.

Lou Yixuan couldn’t stand this kind of “wild and hype” music, and the guy’s English pronunciation was downright painful, making her headache even worse.

She knew nothing about music theory and wasn’t great at pitch either, but when it came to languages, she was a natural talent.

After all, back in the day—junior high through high school—her English scores had dominated the top three in her grade year-round.

English exams… that felt like ancient history.

As Lou Yixuan lifted her right hand to comb through her hair, she deliberately used her pinky to loosen her earphone. Then, as if struck by a sudden thought, she leaned slightly toward Lin Huayan, tugged at her sleeve, and looked up at her—Teacher Lin, lower your head a bit.