HYSE - 14

Even though Shi Yin’s face was as thick as a city wall, encountering such an embarrassing situation for the first time—and in front of the person she admired—was enough to make her struggle with how to face Gu Congli.

But his shirt was still with her, and her phone was still with him.

It felt like they had exchanged tokens of affection, and Shi Yin couldn’t help but think romantically about it.

Though she had only worn the shirt briefly, she washed it thoroughly inside and out, dried it carefully, folded it into a paper bag, and left it in her wardrobe for two days. In the meantime, she borrowed Fang Shu’s phone to call home, claiming she was in a self-imposed study lockdown and wouldn’t need her phone that week.

Shi Mu immediately became suspicious: “Did your teacher confiscate your phone because you were using it in class?”

“…”

Shi Yin felt wronged; she hadn’t been using her phone in class—it was confiscated for no apparent reason.

She quickly denied it.

Shi Mu remained skeptical: “Then why didn’t you use your own phone to tell me? Couldn’t you have just called and then stopped using it afterward?”

“I locked my phone away to resist temptation and gave the key to my teacher. He said he’d return it on Friday and even praised me for having self-discipline,” Shi Yin declared earnestly.

Shi Mu: “…”

Too lazy to listen to her excuses, Shi Mu gave a few reminders before hanging up. She then asked if Shi Yin wanted any special dishes and promised to cook them for her when she came home over the weekend.

With exams approaching, the days passed quickly amid endless assignments, practice tests, and problem sets.

On Friday, Shi Yin carried the paper bag to find Gu Congli.

At that moment, Teacher Gu was in the studio, standing beside a student. He held a pencil, its tip sketching outlines on the paper clipped to the easel in front of him, while speaking softly. The studio door was closed, so his voice couldn’t be heard—only the faint movement of his thin lips was visible, calm and unhurried.

Shi Yin stood quietly at the door, peeking with the paper bag clutched in her arms.

As if sensing something, he suddenly turned his head.

Their eyes met. His gaze was gray, emotionless, and undisturbed.

Shi Yin froze for a moment but didn’t look away. Instead, she grinned at him.

Her large, dark eyes sparkled, lighting up the moment their gazes connected. They brimmed with life and vitality.

He glanced at her once more before casually turning back, as if nothing had happened.

Shi Yin secretly felt a flicker of happiness.

From his angle, he shouldn’t have been able to see the doorway, yet he had turned his head and met her gaze. It felt as though he had sensed her presence—a coincidence that seemed fated, as if their hearts were somehow connected.

The intensive training for art students in their final year didn’t include breaks. They essentially stayed in the studio from morning until night. Gu Congli emerged thirty minutes later.

When he stepped out, the girl wasn’t waiting outside anymore. Turning toward the office, he walked down the corridor but paused mid-step, taking two steps back.

The girl sat quietly by the stairwell facing the entrance, holding the paper bag loosely in her lap, her head slightly bowed. She looked peaceful, lost in thought.

The arts building was cold, and the marble floor was icy. Before Gu Congli reached her, she lifted her head and saw him.

Shi Yin blinked, hopping up cheerfully. Just as she was about to run over, she noticed his expression.

Though outwardly unchanged, there was something different about him—cold, somber, almost displeased.

He had seemed perfectly normal just moments ago.

She approached, tilting her head up, and cautiously extended the paper bag: “Teacher Gu, thank you for lending me your shirt…”

Gu Congli didn’t take it.

Shi Yin cleared her throat and continued: “It’s Friday today. My phone… could I have it back, please?”

Her voice was pitiful, careful, and tinged with fear—as if he might devour her whole.

Gu Congli turned around: “Come with me.”

And just like that, she brightened again, trailing behind him like an eager little shadow.

All it took was one word from him to make her happy.

The girl followed closely behind, clutching the bag. His strides were long, and she practically jogged to keep up, asking questions along the way: “Teacher Gu, do you only teach art students during this intensive training?”

“Yes.”

“Oh…” Shi Yin sounded disappointed. “Why don’t you teach regular students too?”

“Do you have art classes?”

No.

Aside from core academic subjects, the only other class they had was physical education. With piles of math, physics, and chemistry homework overwhelming them, teachers often added extra lessons during self-study periods, usually beginning with, “Class, I’ll only take ten minutes.”

There was no room for art classes.

Shi Yin felt disheartened and started rambling: “What if you told the school that you absolutely had to teach regular students?”

“…”

Gu Congli glanced back at her.

Shi Yin awkwardly rubbed her nose: “I’m just talking nonsense…”

They reached the office door. As he unlocked it, Shi Yin asked again: “Teacher Gu, if I were an art student, would you have to teach me?”

Gu Congli paused, his hand gripping the doorknob.

Unaware, she muttered softly under her breath: “Then I wouldn’t have to rack my brain every day…”

Every day, she strained to come up with excuses to visit the arts building just to see him.

A soft click sounded as the door opened. Gu Congli pushed it open but remained standing at the threshold: “Come in.”

Shi Yin obediently followed him inside.

He closed the door behind them.

The office was empty; the beautiful Ms. Pei wasn’t there. Shi Yin placed the neatly folded shirt on the desk and eagerly asked: “Teacher, is the art exam difficult? Could someone like me, who hasn’t studied art before, manage it?”

Gu Congli didn’t answer.

He walked over, sat down, pulled open the drawer, and retrieved her phone. His pale, slender fingers toyed with it, spinning it idly. The edge tapped lightly against the desk as he called her name: “Shi Yin.”

Shi Yin lowered her gaze, blinking at him.

“I don’t oppose students your age dating or having crushes, as long as it doesn’t interfere with your studies. I won’t intervene,” he said calmly.

Shi Yin froze, her eyes widening as her heart began to race wildly.

“But you need to be cautious about your choice of partner.”

Her racing heart seemed to stop abruptly.

He leaned back in his chair, watching her with an unreadable expression. Slowly, he asked: “Do you understand what I mean?”

The girl stood before him, her head bowed, eyes wide, lips parted, staring back blankly.

She appeared confused, unable to process his words.

After several long seconds,

she suddenly dropped her gaze, her voice low and muffled: “No…”

Gu Congli closed his eyes briefly: “Shi Yin, you’re still young—”

Shi Yin’s head snapped up, her eyes wide and rimmed with red.

She struggled to hold back tears.

For seventeen years, Shi Yin had always prided herself on being carefree, seemingly indifferent to most things. Nothing seemed to bother her deeply or truly upset her.

But she was still a girl, after all.

Girls have tender souls.

She couldn’t pretend to be unaffected after hearing such words.

His meaning was clear, unmistakable.

He knew she liked him, saw through her persistence, understood her feelings. Initially, he had gently rejected her to spare her fragile pride, but when that didn’t deter her, he found her relentless pursuit troublesome.

He thought her immature, a nuisance, a complication.

He believed she lacked self-respect.

Shi Yin’s hands clenched tightly beneath the table. Taking a deep breath, she tried to match his calm tone: “Teacher Gu, why are you telling me this? Did you misunderstand something? I asked about art students because I’m genuinely interested. I think painting seems fun, and I want to learn it myself. I’m considering taking the art exam in the future. Besides, I already have a crush—he’s the school prince, handsome, my age, and we have lots of common interests.”

She rattled off these words in one breath, pausing only to take a deep inhale before snatching the phone from his loose grip. “Thank you for returning my phone. I’ve learned my lesson and won’t make the same mistake again. I’m sorry.”

Without looking at his expression or wanting him to see her vulnerability,

Shi Yin clutched the phone and bolted out of the office. Yanking the door open, she collided with the gaze of a woman leaning against the wall outside.

Pei Shihao blinked, not having time to speak before the girl hastily bowed and ran off.

Watching the retreating figure, Pei tilted her head slightly, lips curling into a smile. Her voice was gentle and light as she entered the room: “Girls this age can be quite troublesome. Clarifying things like this is probably for the best. She likely understands now. Though, Teacher Gu, you were surprisingly gentle this time—”

She turned and caught sight of his expression, her words trailing off.

The man seemed lost in thought, his eyes slightly lowered, shadowed with an indistinct emotion.

Pei Shihao’s voice grew distant and hazy. In his mind lingered the image of the girl’s wet, stubborn eyes glaring at him, biting her lip, forcing her tears back.

Her voice, thick with unshed tears, soft and trembling, whispered an apology.