Volume 1 / Chapter 9: The Strict Math Teacher

“Huh? Don’t you have a special sheet for the class schedule?”

“A special sheet?” Mo Xueyao blinked blankly and shook her head. “Can’t I just tear a piece from my homework paper, write it down, and stick it up?”

“Eh… That wouldn’t look nice! Here, I’ll give you one.” Wang Jiale said, pulling a small stack of sticky notes specifically designed for class schedules from her pencil case. She deftly peeled one off and handed it to Mo Xueyao.

“Thanks…” Mo Xueyao thanked her stiffly, carefully taking the sticky note while avoiding any contact with the other girl’s hand.

The note seemed to carry a lingering scent of Wang Jiale’s fragrance.

It smelled like lavender.

Mo Xueyao’s mind drifted off again, almost copying the schedule wrong.

Just as she finished neatly transcribing the schedule, the class bell rang.

Today was a bit unusual. As the first day back after the National Day holiday, it included a morning assembly similar to a Monday schedule, but since it was actually Friday, they’d follow Friday’s timetable.

This meant they’d have two fewer classes than usual and get out early.

The first class of the morning was Math.

A subject Mo Xueyao wasn’t particularly strong in.

She was relatively better at humanities…

Soon, a young teacher strode into the classroom just as the bell finished ringing.

She placed her teaching plan on the podium, then scanned the students below.

Though she didn’t look very tall, almost like a high school student herself, she radiated an oppressive authority and… something like killing intent.

Perhaps it stemmed from her piercing gaze.

“This is our math teacher, Jing Die. Super strict. Xueyao, don’t provoke her!” Wang Jiale helpfully whispered from beside her, though it was probably more out of her love for sharing gossip than genuine concern.

After ensuring all students were seated properly, the math teacher spoke with a strong, clear alto voice: “Alright, open your math textbooks to page…”

Mo Xueyao felt a little dazed.

This petite teacher had a voice that completely mismatched her appearance.

Honestly, if her expression weren’t so stern, she’d probably look quite cute.

“Today’s topic is solving linear inequalities in one variable…”

(Author's note: To authentically reflect that era, the textbook used here is the old edition of the Renjiao (People's Education Press) textbook, which differs significantly from modern high school textbooks.)

Thanks to some pre-reading, and the fact that new high school material wasn’t overly difficult yet, Mo Xueyao kept up with the lesson easily. She even found the problems a bit too simple.

She rubbed her temple, wondering: Could it be that after the surgery, my body starting to develop has made my brain smarter?

That actually sounded plausible… After all, when the body develops, the brain develops too, even if not as dramatically. But it should still have some impact.

“Gao Yuan!” Mid-lecture, as she turned around, Teacher Jing Die suddenly flicked a piece of chalk. It struck the forehead of Gao Yuan, who was slumped asleep on his desk. “Get up!”

Her stern voice brooked no disobedience. Still half-asleep, Gao Yuan instinctively stood up—even though he was bleary-eyed.

“Sleeping in the very first class? is my class that comfortable? Didn’t sleep last night?” Jing Die narrowed her eyes, walking over to Gao Yuan. She was slightly shorter than the not-very-tall Gao Yuan, but her powerful aura seemed to make her loom larger.

“Uh… not much…” Gao Yuan answered earnestly, as if still not grasping the situation.

“Why not? You always sleep in Math class? Is my that boring?”

It’s not boring, just nerve-wracking, Mo Xueyao thought to herself.

In other words, this kind of math class makes it impossible to relax.

“Teacher Jing… you’re too scary…” Gao Yuan mumbled pitifully.

“And you still dared to sleep?”

“It’s the body’s self-defense mechanism!”

“You think you’re an ostrich?!” A hint of amusement crept into Jing Die’s severe tone.

What? So the strictness is mostly an act?

Is it because she’s short and uses this aura to command respect?

It’s probably unnecessary.

Mo Xueyao reflected.

After all, Jing Die looks quite cute when she smiles.

“I guess so…”

“Stand for the rest of the lesson.” Jing Die took a deep breath, reined in her smile, and resumed her stern expression.

Overall, the math class felt rather oppressive.

When the forty-minute period ended, almost everyone breathed a silent sigh of relief.

Gao Yuan, who’d looked like he might fall asleep standing just moments before, suddenly seemed wide awake the moment class ended. He immediately bounded off, full of energy, to play with other classmates.

It made one wonder if his earlier exhaustion had been an act.

“Whew, math class is the worst,” Wang Jiale exhaled dramatically. “The other teachers are much better! Next is Chinese class, our homeroom teacher! It’ll be much more relaxed, you’ll see.”

“Homeroom teacher.” Mo Xueyao recalled the young teacher in white knee-high socks from the morning, sparking a question. “Huh? Our school has quite a few young teachers, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, some came with the new principal. Before, this high school didn’t have enough teachers. Now, these new teachers are all assigned to teach Grade 10. Our class is pretty lucky; most of our teachers are the new, young ones.” Wang Jiale suddenly grinned mischievously. “With so many young, pretty teachers, maybe one of them is secretly involved with the principal?”

‘Secretly involved’…

Mo Xueyao’s expression froze. Wang Jiale, however, smoothly switched topics.

“Speaking of which, our homeroom teacher has the most amazing legs!”

Wait, you’re a girl, right?

Mo Xueyao scrutinized Wang Jiale, doubting whether those words had truly come from a girl’s mouth.

“What? Is there something on my face?”

“No… nothing…” Mo Xueyao shook her head, feeling dazed, almost like it was her first time interacting with a girl.

Well, maybe it really is the first time I’ve genuinely conversed with a girl?

After all, girls probably behave differently around the same gender versus the opposite gender.

“Wanna go to the restroom?” Wang Jiale asked again.

“Didn’t you… just go after the assembly?”

“Just in case! What if I need to go during Chinese class?”

Mo Xueyao scratched her head awkwardly. She hadn’t set foot in a public women’s restroom yet…

The thought made her resistant.

“I… I’m okay now… maybe later?” She fumbled, unable to find a good excuse.

Wang Jiale, however, acted perfectly naturally, just saying “Oh,” and went to find someone else.

“Xiao Xiao, wanna go to the restroom?”

“Sure!” a girl sitting behind Mo Xueyao replied cheerfully.

Her jet-black hair cascaded like a waterfall – the only girl in class who didn’t tie her hair up.

She wasn’t stunningly beautiful, but she was pleasant-looking, neat, and approachable like the girl next door.

She stood up and followed Wang Jiale out, calling out to another girl who looked strikingly similar, except this one wore braids and had a dark mole between her eyebrows.

They look like twins.

This was Mo Xueyao’s first time encountering twins in real life.

Their distinct features made them easy to tell apart, avoiding any confusion.

The back of the classroom was the unofficial territory of the boys. During break, they’d cluster together, chatting loudly or pulling out various trinkets to play with.

Some were even playing with magnets.

This made Mo Xueyao’s fingers itch.

Those flat, circular magnets could be played anywhere there was space. The game involved flicking them with your finger, trying to ‘capture’ your opponent’s magnet.

If your magnet landed on top, you ‘ate’ theirs. If yours ended up underneath, you got ‘eaten’.

Once you got the hang of it, you could use magnetic properties strategically. It was a simple but fun, highly unpredictable competitive game.

Yes, boys loved these kinds of head-to-head games.

A group of boys at the back were squatting on an open patch of floor, playing and inviting others to join.

“Xiao Xue, you not playing?” one boy shouted to another.

For a split second, Mo Xueyao thought he was calling her.

Old friends sometimes teased her with that nickname.

After all, her name, Xueyao, also contained the character ‘Xue’ (雪 – snow).

But clearly, he wasn’t calling Mo Xueyao. He was calling the boy sitting at the very end of Mo Xueyao’s row, the one without a deskmate.

He looked gentle and refined, like Mo Xueyao’s image of a writer.

Though just a high school student, he had that writerly aura.

And his name was interesting – it also contained ‘Xue’, just like hers.

This piqued Mo Xueyao’s curiosity about him.

“No, not playing,” the boy replied with a smile, not looking up from the extra curricular book in his hands.

The book had an entirely English cover. Judging by the title, it seemed to be a science fiction novel about time paradoxes.

“Reading that stuff again? All in English? Isn’t it tiring?”

“I can read it just fine.”

“Tsk, tsk. Looks like our Xiao Xue is going to be a scientist,” someone teased with a hint of envy.

The boy nicknamed Xiao Xue just smiled, clearly unoffended, treating their words as banter.

Or perhaps he already understood these boys well.

But it was only the first month of school; surely they weren’t that familiar yet?

For someone like Mo Xueyao, if she didn’t make a conscious effort to remember names, there might still be classmates whose names she couldn’t recall even three months into the term.

As the class bell rang once more, students drifted back to their seats in twos and threes.

Wang Jiale whirled back in like a gust of wind.

Right behind her, walking gracefully into the classroom, came the Chinese teacher, dressed in a gray midi skirt and a long-sleeved shirt.