October slipped by quietly, and after a snowfall in November, the weather turned abruptly cold.
The teachers’ cafeteria was well-heated. Chi Nuan ate her lunch alone in silence. By then, the rumors about her being kept by someone had spread throughout the teaching staff.
No one was tactless enough to ask her directly for confirmation, nor did anyone truly care about the truth. Instead, they treated it as juicy gossip to pass the time underground, satisfying their empty inner worlds—what was the harm in that?
Director Huang sat down across from Chi Nuan. She focused on her meal and only looked up when she heard the shutter sound of a phone camera.
Director Huang swiped across his phone screen, zooming in and out, his expression normal as he said, “Teacher Xiao Chi, look at today’s dishes—they’re pretty good, quite appetizing the way they’re paired.”
Chi Nuan didn’t have much left. She finished quickly and said to Director Huang, “Take your time, Director Huang. I’m heading out first.”
…
After finishing her math class in the afternoon, Chi Nuan left through the front door of the classroom. As she passed the back door, she heard laughter erupting from the rear seats.
“Wu Keke, how many points did you get this time?”
“She definitely failed, or why wouldn’t she let us see?”
“Wu Keke’s such an idiot—always failing, what a disgrace!”
“…”
Chi Nuan walked back into the classroom. Wu Keke was surrounded by several classmates at her desk, clutching her math exam paper tightly, her little face flushed red.
Chi Nuan had heard Wang Lili complain about it multiple times before and knew that Wu Keke had an intellectual disability.
“Wu Keke, could you do Teacher Chi a favor?”
Chi Nuan’s voice made the rowdy students restrain themselves a bit. Wu Keke looked up at Chi Nuan upon hearing her, and Chi Nuan smiled as she handed over her lesson plan. “Could you take this to the office for Teacher Chi?”
Wu Keke quickly crumpled her exam paper into a ball and stuffed it into her pocket before taking Chi Nuan’s lesson plan. “Sure, Teacher Chi.”
Once she left the classroom, Chi Nuan dropped her smile and looked at the students who had been crowding Wu Keke’s desk. “Wu Keke studies very hard. Even though her exam scores aren’t ideal, the teacher believes that as long as she puts in the effort, she shouldn’t be mocked or blamed. —When you try hard at something but don’t do it well, do you hope for encouragement or ridicule from others?”
The students fell silent.
Chi Nuan continued, “How hard does Wu Keke work? You all only notice her scores—has anyone paid attention to her handwriting?”
At that moment, Wu Keke’s deskmate spoke up. “Teacher Chi, I know—Wu Keke’s handwriting is really neat, like it’s printed!”
Chi Nuan nodded. “So, Wu Keke has things she’s better at than you all, right?”
After saying that, Chi Nuan left the classroom and saw Wu Keke standing against the wall, tears streaming from her eyes.
She hadn’t gone to the office with the lesson plan after all.
Chi Nuan placed a hand on her shoulder. “Wu Keke, walk Teacher Chi back to the office.”
In the office, Chi Nuan pulled out a tissue for Wu Keke. Wu Keke kept her head down, tears still falling. Chi Nuan thought for a moment, then fished a lollipop out of her drawer. “Listen to Teacher Chi and finish this candy, then no more crying, okay?”
Wu Keke sat in Chi Nuan’s chair eating the lollipop. The other people in the office went about their own business. When Chi Nuan picked up a call from Mr. Ji and said “Mr. Ji,” she suddenly noticed everyone stop what they were doing and perk up their ears to listen.
An indescribable sense of absurdity welled up inside Chi Nuan.
Setting aside the unpleasantness with her colleagues, even after returning home, Chi Nuan still thought about Wu Keke. She pondered whether she could incorporate deeper wording into application problems to naturally guide the students into reflecting on what “kindness” meant. Little Wutong saw her furrowed brow as she stared blankly at the lesson plan and came over to ask, “Mom, are you tired from work?”
Chi Nuan replied, “A little tired.”
Little Wutong reached out to massage her shoulders, kneading for about ten times before asking, “Mom, does it feel better?”
Chi Nuan smiled. “Much better.”
Little Wutong hugged her neck affectionately. “Then I’ll massage Mom some more.”
The phone screen on the desk lit up—Director Huang had sent a video. Chi Nuan tapped into their chat and saw the thumbnail of a snow-white bare shoulder. She exited without hesitation.
No need to watch; she knew it was one of those vulgar videos he passed off as humor.
…
The next afternoon, Chi Nuan was hunched over revising her lesson plan when someone rushed to her desk, slammed both fists down hard on the surface, then swept her teacup and several teaching materials from the corner of the desk to the floor with a swipe. “You shameless vixen!”
The bone china teacup shattered with a clang. Chi Nuan jumped in fright and stood up from her chair.
The intruder was Director Huang’s wife, Yu Ping, who also worked in education. Chi Nuan had met her a few times at city-wide training conferences and recognized her.
“Teacher Yu, if you have something to say, can’t you just talk it out properly?” Chi Nuan told herself not to get angry and kept her tone as calm as possible.
“Talk it out? You don’t get what I mean? Fine! You’ve done such shameless things behind everyone’s back—I’m not afraid to embarrass you in front of your colleagues!”
Everyone in the office looked up, watching quietly.
Chi Nuan’s expression also cooled. “Go ahead and say it.”
