Psst! We're moving!
Half a month later, Shi Yin began to question her love for Gu Congli.
Last time, her doubts about love were triggered by her mother's disciplinary methods.
This time, it was because of the pencil in her hand.
She had fully accepted the fact that she lacked artistic talent and couldn't be the protagonist, and every time she drew, it was only because Gu Congli’s encouragement kept her going. This had been going on for half a month.
Shi Yin found drawing boring, but strangely, she became addicted to the smell in the studio—a peculiar mix of paint, paper, dust, and wood shavings. It was like the smell of Chinese medicine or paint; after smelling it for a long time, it seemed to have an odd addictive quality.
Thankfully, she could now draw squares.
Although most of her time was still spent drawing lines.
Shi Yin lazily slumped in front of her easel, watching the senior sitting next to her sketching a skull while another young man nearby was working on a plaster bust.
In front of her, however, there was only a lonely cube—it was so dull, monotonous, and boring.
Shi Yin looked around and saw Gu Congli glancing over. She raised her hand.
He walked over, slightly bending down to look at her square: "What is it?"
"Teacher, do I still have to draw squares?"
He casually helped her fix the blurry lines: "Mm-hmm."
Propping her cheek with her hand, she said dispiritedly, "Then when can I draw something else?"
Gu Congli turned his head and glanced at her.
The girl had been sitting here all afternoon without moving, filling the paper with rows of squares. She was probably tired, bored out of her mind.
She simply wasn’t suited for this kind of stationary hobby.
Yet she still persisted in coming here every day, drowsy enough to bump her head against the paper, leaving smudges of pencil on her face.
Gu Congli nodded and asked, "What do you want to draw?"
Shi Yin fell silent.
She looked around to make sure no one was nearby, then secretly waved at Gu Congli.
He didn’t move.
She waved both hands wildly at him.
"…"
Gu Congli slowly leaned closer.
Shi Yin whispered, "Teacher Gu, I saw a senior bring in a handsome guy at noon. She said he was a model."
"Hmm?"
"Do we need to find our own models in the future?"
"You can find your own."
Shi Yin blushed and stammered, "Then... does the model have to be completely nude?"
Gu Congli: "…"
He turned his head and calmly glanced at her: "It's up to you."
"Up to me?"
"Mm-hmm."
"If I say take off, they take off?" Shi Yin was excited, her earlier blush disappeared, eyes sparkling as she shyly lowered her voice, "Then when can I start drawing nudes?"
"…"
Gu Congli didn’t want to waste any more words with her. He straightened up and looked at her expressionlessly: "Shi Yin."
Shi Yin’s smile vanished. She sat up straight, turned back, and started shading the square with quick strokes: "Ah, this cube is so square!"
Gu Congli: "…"
In November, just after the midterm exams ended, Old Baldy (the teacher) had already started pushing for the finals.
Shi Yin’s monthly exam ranking in October dropped seven places compared to before. Her mother bombarded her with relentless calls, questioning what happened, scolding her severely. Shi Yin didn’t dare slack off anymore. As a result, she made significant progress in the midterms—she moved up one rank.
Overall, she had fallen six ranks.
Shi Yin didn’t understand why everyone in this school was like this—all geniuses? Why did their scores always seem so high?
On the day the midterm results were posted, the bulletin board was crowded with people. Nowadays, to protect students' self-esteem, the rankings weren’t publicly displayed as before. However, competition at Experimental High School was fierce. As the grade director put it, without competition, there’s no progress.
Therefore, the top hundred rankings were still posted, with a list of the top hundred names.
Since Old Baldy had already informed her beforehand that she was still among the top ten, Shi Yin didn’t bother checking.
But during the break after the second class, Ergou went out for barely two minutes before rushing back, looking as if he’d seen a ghost. He ran up to Shi Yin, hands braced on her desk, panting heavily.
Shi Yin was puzzled and watched him warily: "What are you doing?"
Ergou hadn’t caught his breath yet, but he slapped her desk, wrinkling her error notebook: "Ranking... grade... you... your name..."
Shi Yin was a bit annoyed and pulled her notebook from under his hand: "Comrade Ergou, could you please catch your breath before speaking?"
"Your name on the grade ranking has been slashed to pieces!"
Shi Yin froze: "What?"
Ergou finally caught his breath: "Your name... Grade Nine, Shi Yin, your name on the grade ranking outside has been viciously crossed out with red pen. It looks terrifying, like blood everywhere." He frowned, still shaken, "Did you offend someone recently?"
Shi Yin was stunned: "No... Why would anyone slash my name for no reason?"
"Go see for yourself."
Shi Yin got up suspiciously, and Fang Shu followed her out of the classroom toward the bulletin board.
The corridor was packed with people, and the bulletin board was surrounded, filled with chatter and the occasional gasp from girls—it was quite noisy.
Shi Yin wasn’t exactly obscure in school. With good grades, a pleasant personality, and pretty looks—big eyes, fair skin, and a small face—she was quite popular. There were actually many who liked her, and boys from various grades had lined up to pursue her.
As she approached, she heard whispers from the side:
"Here she comes, the person involved."
"Who did she upset? This is so scary."
"I bet fifty cents it’s emotional drama—love triangles and stuff. If I can’t have them, no one will."
"I don’t think so. Maybe she took someone’s spot, and they’re holding a grudge. Though her score isn’t great this time, just ninth place."
Shi Yin: "…"
Truly worthy of being a key high school—studying is far more important than romance.
She squeezed through the crowd and took a look. Her name on the ranking had been viciously crossed out with red marker at least a dozen times, almost illegible. In some places, the paper had even torn.
Ergou hadn’t exaggerated—on first glance, it really did look bloody.
People scribbling on the bulletin board wasn’t unheard of, but this time it was extremely targeted and obvious.
Fang Shu immediately blew up and tried to tear down the top hundred list, but Shi Yin stopped her.
Smiling, Shi Yin teased, "Desk buddy, I didn’t expect you to care so much."
Fang Shu, usually quiet and known as a talented artist, exploded with anger: "I care about your mom."
The person involved continued to grin while dragging the furious Fang away.
Shi Yin appeared calm, but inside, she was also confused.
She had always been low-key, never made enemies, and didn’t have many close friends—only Fang Shu and a few others were close to her.
So Shi Yin shrugged off the incident, assuming someone mistakenly slashed her name by accident. The episode passed quickly.
Until Thursday night—
Ever since she saw the tall forum thread about Gu Congli last time, Shi Yin occasionally browsed it when she was bored.
She mostly focused on the previous thread where the poster, an art student, uploaded 108 daily candid photos of Teacher Gu.
The number of photos in Shi Yin’s phone album was growing at an impressive rate.
Moreover, she hadn’t realized how active the campus network was until now. Every day, there were all sorts of strange posts, including check-ins for leveling up, venting about bizarre incidents or trivial matters, and arguments.
Shi Yin found the daily lives of top students quite fascinating.
But she never imagined that she and Gu Congli would appear together in the same thread.
In such a way.
The post began with a cheerful tone, with a very clickbait title—[Shock! Going to pee leads to THIS kind of encounter.]
The post was made on the day of the sports meet.
The original poster described going to the restroom during the sports meet but, unfamiliar with the new campus stadium, couldn’t find the toilets. So he wandered around the stadium.
Then, he witnessed a very provocative scene.
The poster included a photo.
Clearly taken covertly, the angle was hidden, the distance not close, and the lighting dim. Only the outlines were visible: a man and a woman stood by the equipment room door. The woman leaned against the wall, and the man faced her, bending down slightly with his head bowed. The woman’s face was obscured, but her cheerleading uniform—a bright red—was visible, revealing large patches of creamy white skin.
From behind the man, the two appeared stacked together, seemingly kissing.
Perhaps because the title sounded too ridiculous or because everyone was busy studying near the midterms, the post initially sank with very few replies.
However, just as it was buried in the flood of history, it resurfaced.
The content was simple, just one sentence: [This guy clearly isn’t a student from our school, but the girl is wearing our school’s cheerleading uniform. Your team’s beauties sure know how to play, bringing boyfriends to secluded corners during the sports meet to do... things.]
At first, it wasn’t a big deal. The post lingered on page two, with occasional replies, mostly jokes.
Until a floor master replied around the thirty-somethingth post: [This guy looks familiar. I think I’ve seen him around school.]
[Isn’t this the guy from that thread pinned on the homepage—the god-level teacher who used to be a student here? The OP updates in real time, and the candid photos match this guy’s back perfectly. Fellow students, take note: this teacher’s surname is Gu.]
[Holy crap, a teacher??? So what are they doing in that secluded corner???]
And then it spiraled out of control.
People commented on everything, starting to wonder who the girl was. Unfortunately, her face was completely obscured, and with only the cheerleading team as a clue, no one could identify her.
The target of criticism shifted to Gu Congli.
The further Shi Yin scrolled, the colder she felt, as if her blood had frozen.
Fang Shu entered holding a book, saw her, and while organizing her desk, asked what she wanted for dinner.
Shi Yin ignored her.
After calling her several times and receiving no response, Fang Shu realized something was wrong. Frowning, she walked over and tugged at her: "Are you listening to me?"
She paused.
Shi Yin, jolted by the tug, looked up hazily, her face pale.
Fang Shu was startled: "What’s wrong... Are you feeling unwell?"
Coming to her senses, Shi Yin revealed a panicked expression, her voice low and muffled: "I was wrong..."
Fang Shu didn’t hear clearly: "What?"
"I need to explain..." Her eyes were red, and she looked at Fang Shu anxiously, stuttering, "I need to explain—it’s not like that at all. That photo is misleading..."
"Shi Yin!" Fang Shu called her softly, "Tell me what’s wrong, explain properly."
Shi Yin didn’t listen, pulling free from Fang Shu’s grip and running out with her phone in hand.
In November, the weather had turned cold, and the evening breeze was especially chilly. It was the break before evening study, and the campus was bustling with groups of students chatting and laughing. Boys were playing basketball on the court, and distant whistles could be heard.
Shi Yin ran through the path in the green belt, heading straight to the arts building.
She knew this place well from frequent visits. At this hour, the art students weren’t around, and the three studios were empty. She turned into the corridor and ran directly to the office at the end.
Running fast, she reached the second studio when someone stepped out.
Shi Yin couldn’t stop in time and collided full force.
A faint floral perfume filled her nose, and the impact felt soft.
Shi Yin quickly backed away, lifting her head.
Pei Shihao was also caught off guard, stumbling back two steps before steadying herself. Slightly displeased, she frowned and looked up.
Upon recognizing each other, Pei Shihao paused.
Shi Yin stared blankly, forgetting even to apologize.
Pei Shihao snapped out of it first, gazing at her and slowly knitting her delicate brows. Softly, she asked, "You’re Shi Yin, right?"
Shi Yin nodded, quickly greeted her, and tried to rush past.
"If you’re looking for Gu Congli, I advise you not to go. If I were him, I wouldn’t want to see you right now," Pei Shihao said indifferently.
Shi Yin stopped in her tracks, looking up at her.
The woman was impeccably made up, with beautiful, soft features, cascading waves of hair, and a refined femininity. Her rejection earlier hadn’t dulled her shine.
With a slight lift of her chin, her usually smiling face now devoid of expression, she said, "The girl in the photo, that’s you, right? The one from the thread."
Shi Yin froze.
Pei Shihao laughed: "Sometimes I think you girls nowadays are truly frightening. At your age, I certainly didn’t know so much. I remember Teacher Gu rejected you quite decisively. Did you resort to this after failing to win him over?"
Shi Yin was flustered: "No, I didn’t use any tactics... I also—"
"Why act innocent now?" Pei Shihao cut her off. "You’ve seen what others are saying on the thread. They call him a scumbag, accuse him of messing around with minors. And you? You’ve managed to stay clean while letting your Teacher Gu bear the brunt. When things blow up and he leaves, you’ll no longer be his student, and maybe you’ll finally get your happy ending."
Pei Shihao gave a cold laugh, her gentleness gone entirely: "Shi Yin, your schemes are truly loud and clear." She leaned in, whispering with disdain in every word, "Stay away from him from now on, okay? Let him go."
The last trace of color drained from Shi Yin’s face.
Outside, bursts of laughter echoed through the campus, but inside the arts building, it was eerily silent and cold. The entire first floor was empty, and the warm yellow light of the setting sun filtered through the windows, casting grid-like patterns on the corridor floor.
Pei Shihao left. Shi Yin stood at the office door, trembling uncontrollably from head to toe, her fingers icy.
Upon realizing what had happened, her first instinct was to find him. But now, she suddenly didn’t dare to go in.
Every word Pei Shihao said was true.
From the very beginning, when she first met him, she was the one who took the initiative.
She had persistently chased him, liking him despite his repeated, clear refusals.
Yet she refused to give up, scheming ways to approach him, racking her brain to find excuses to talk to him, spend more time with him, and catch his attention.
From start to finish, it had always been one-sided on her part. His attitude had been clear and consistent, maintaining an appropriate distance.
But now, the scandal had erupted, and his reputation was damaged.
Shi Yin had originally thought she could clear up the misunderstanding—it was just a misinterpretation due to the photo angle. Once explained, it would be fine.
But explanations aren’t always believed. Some would trust her, others wouldn’t, and such matters were inherently hard to clarify.
When damage was already done, the truth mattered less.
Moreover, her feelings for him were real, and her persistence was genuine.
She was the one who had made a mistake.
She shouldn’t have liked him. Such feelings should never have arisen—they were wrong, abnormal, inappropriate.
It was all her fault.
He hadn’t done anything, yet he was portrayed so badly. She was the real culprit, yet no one recognized or blamed her.
She truly was Gu Congli’s unexpected calamity.
He must hate her, detest her now.
Shi Yin stood frozen at the door, not knowing how long she had been there, when the office door was suddenly pulled open from the inside.
Warm light spilled out, and Shi Yin looked up in panic.
Gu Congli stood in the doorway, silhouetted against the light, his expression as indifferent as ever, as if nothing could affect him.
He lowered his eyes, gazing at her calmly, his voice low and faint, like a sigh: "Why are you crying?"