DCTMOAS Chapter 23

[All female athletes for the 4×400m relay finals and male athletes for the 1500m preliminary round, please report to the check-in area.]
[Submission from the Grade 11 Language Department: To the brave 800m runners on the field…]

As the evening sun broke through the clouds after the rain, the competitions on the sports field resumed with renewed intensity.

The final stretch of the 1000m race for the Grade 11 boys was underway, and all the students had their eyes glued to the track.

“Mu Yiyang! Mu Yiyang!”

Amid the synchronized cheering of Class 7, Mu Yiyang lived up to expectations and was the first to cross the finish line — but the very next second, he collapsed onto the track.

It was a heavy fall. Gasps and exclamations rippled through the stands.

Yu Siting’s expression darkened. He turned and said to someone beside him, “Go help him.”

“I got it, I got it. You guys go ahead and prep for the next event.” Bai Xiaolong, who was closest to Mu Yiyang, stretched out his arm to stop the crowd from rushing in and ran out alone.

“He probably charged too hard and couldn’t brake in time.”

“That fall looked painful even from here.”

“Is he back up yet? Hope he didn’t injure anything serious. Should I go check too?”

Amid the worried murmuring of the students, Bai Xiaolong had already come back, half-carrying the limping “injured soldier.”

From a dozen meters away, the PE monitor shouted a status update:
“This guy twisted his ankle!”

“What happened, Brother Mu? Did your legs go soft from fear after Big Bro caught you dating?” another mischievous classmate teased, deliberately poking at the sore spot.

“As long as I still got the medal, who cares!” Mu Yiyang’s previously gloomy expression cracked into a bitter smile. He sneaked a glance at the homeroom teacher and muttered under his breath, “Like I’m not suffering enough already.”

Yu Siting didn’t take the bait. He knelt down and lightly tapped Mu Yiyang’s ankle. “Can you put weight on it by yourself?”

Mu Yiyang tried, but winced. “Ow… it hurts a bit…”

Didn’t look too good.

Mr. Yu stood up and turned to the assistant class teacher. “Mr. Chu, take him to the school clinic for a check-up. See if he needs to be taken to the hospital.”

Chu Cheng nodded. “Okay.”

“You don’t need me to carry you like a princess, right?” Bai Xiaolong couldn’t resist teasing his buddy.

“Get lost,” Mu Yiyang snapped, red-faced with embarrassment.

“Hahahahaha. Alright, make way.” Bai Xiaolong slung his friend’s arm over his shoulder again and slowly followed Chu Cheng toward the school building.

—

The school clinic was swamped during the sports meet. The small room was packed. As soon as Chu Cheng and Bai Xiaolong got Mu Yiyang in for examination, they were pushed back out by the crowd.

While waiting outside, Chu Cheng casually struck up a conversation with the PE monitor.

“So does Mu Yiyang actually have a girlfriend? He took quite a tumble on the track — yet no one came running to check on him?”

Bai Xiaolong immediately became defensive. “Mr. Chu, come on… don’t use this as a chance to fish for gossip. I’m not gonna sell out my bro.”

Chu Cheng said, “Who asked you to sell him out? I was just casually asking. Besides, catching early relationships in class isn’t even my responsibility.”

“I still can’t tell you…” Bai Xiaolong muttered, “Mu Ziyang shamelessly chased after her for so long, and she just recently agreed to give it a try. If I tell you and then you leak it to the big guy, he’ll drag that girl to the office and call her parents for a talk—what kind of friend would that make me?”

“Mu Yiyang is still a…”
Chu Cheng paused. What he was about to say didn’t quite suit his role, so he swallowed the two words that almost slipped out, raised a fist to his lips, and gave a symbolic light cough. “If that’s how you see it, I can only say—you really underestimate your big brother.”

“Huh? Is the big guy really going to take action on this?” Bai Xiaolong leaned closer, peeking through the infirmary window, “Then Mu Yiyang’s dad is definitely gonna beat him. He’s already injured—this is just tragic.”

Chu Cheng sighed with sympathy. “Either the body or the mind has to suffer—pick one. Don’t worry, Mr. Yu isn’t going to contact the parents directly. He doesn’t even need to know who the girlfriend is. When it comes to this kind of maneuver, I’m nowhere near his level.”

“Humble bragging, huh?” Bai Xiaolong, being a real-life victim of the teacher’s tactics, didn’t buy this innocent act. He glanced sideways and muttered, “You’re not exactly gentle either…”

“Hmm?” Chu Cheng looked at him with a face full of warmth and harmlessness.

Bai Xiaolong shivered, recalling the fear of being under his command. “…Even though I don’t think they’re a great match either, Mu Ziyang’s really into her. I’ve gotta stand up for my bro.”

“One year, one love. One wound, one year. You call that deep affection?” Chu Cheng gave him a sideways glance, blunt as ever. “That’s just self-inflicted drama.”

You clearly know everything already.
Bai Xiaolong couldn’t help mentally roasting Mr. Chu again.

Chu Cheng ignored his exaggerated expression, pulled out his phone, and handed it to him, pointing toward the infirmary. “Go have him call his parents.”

Bai Xiaolong jumped. “Didn’t you say you weren’t going to snitch?”

Chu Cheng nearly laughed from exasperation. “When did I say I was going to snitch? He needs someone to pick him up and make sure he gets a proper checkup.”

“Oh.” Bai Xiaolong scratched the back of his head and finally went to do it. But halfway there, curiosity got the better of him, and he turned back. “So what exactly is Big Bro going to do about it?”

“Don’t be nosy. You’ll find out after the sports meet,” Chu Cheng said calmly, then mimicked Bai Xiaolong’s earlier tone, adding, “I’m not the kind of person who sells out a bro.”

---

By the time Chu Cheng had taken care of Mu Yiyang’s injury, it was already dusk.

The first day of the sports meet had ended. Students gathered on the field, excitedly chatting about athletes’ performances as they poured out of the campus to grab dinner.

But the students performing in the evening’s talent show didn’t have that luxury.

After the team disbanded from the bleachers, the girls from Class 7 and Class 5 barely had time to stuff a quick bite down before hurrying to the stairwell on the first floor of the teaching building for last-minute practice.

As one of the assisting teachers, Chu Cheng went over to check on their progress and see if they needed any help.

But through the glass window, he saw the girls seriously rehearsing and didn’t have the heart to interrupt.

At the corner inside the building, a cool wind blew in, rustling softly. Someone must’ve opened a window. Chu Cheng leaned over to look and, sure enough, spotted a familiar figure.

It was Zhang Xi.

He had already learned during rehearsal that the dance performance would feature not only his zither accompaniment, but also a live painting by Zhang Xi.

Whether it was the chilly autumn wind or sheer nerves, from a distance, he could see her hands trembling badly. She kept twisting her wrist, rubbing her palms together.

Chu Cheng thought for a couple of seconds, then walked over with light steps and stood next to her, taking a deep, synchronized breath.

“Hmm? Mr. Chu.” Zhang Xi wasn’t startled but looked surprised by his action. “You’re also…”

Chu Cheng said, “I’m calming my nerves before going on stage, too.”

Zhang Xi clearly knew he was just trying to comfort her. She smiled, revealing white teeth, and admitted, “I’ve never drawn in front of so many people before. And it’s a self-taught style—I’m worried I’ll mess up.”

“Understood.” Chu Cheng leaned on the windowsill and nodded. “After all, we’re kind of like special guests. If we mess up, it could affect the whole team.”

He was afraid that his presence would add pressure to the student, so he deliberately avoided direct eye contact, instead speaking to her softly through the reflection in the glass.

This friendly way of interacting did help Zhang Xi relax a lot.

After a moment of silence, she turned her head slightly and asked, “Teacher, have you ever… been really worried you wouldn’t do well?”

“Of course,” Chu Cheng answered without hesitation. Then his tone slowed and became more patient and reassuring. “Actually, every moment I’m with you guys, I’m worried I won’t do a good job. I often feel anxious because I’m a new teacher.”

Zhang Xi looked surprised. “But I think you’re really outstanding.”

As soon as she finished, she seemed to realize she’d expressed too much emotion in a single moment and quickly looked away.

The two of them looked out the window together again.

Under the eaves, raindrops that hadn’t yet dried still clung there—clear and glistening. When the wind passed, they fell like beads sliding off strings. The gentle pattering wasn’t noisy—it actually brought a sense of calm.

Chu Cheng wasn’t the type who liked preaching. Most of the time, he played the role of a listener who simply gave feedback.

He spoke softly, “Everyone we meet is really just an ordinary person. You may not see it, but each one has their own specific worries. Because when you have dreams, you also have to face all kinds of challenges.”

“So what others think doesn’t really matter. Especially when you’re surrounded by torrents and mountains—you have to believe in your own worth.”

After chatting, Zhang Xi seemed much less nervous, and her hands were no longer trembling as badly. She nodded. “Mm, the performance later is a bit tricky, so I should head over and prepare now.”

Chu Cheng gave her a thumbs-up.

Zhang Xi smiled and gave herself a little cheer: “Let’s go~”

After the student left, Chu Cheng also headed backstage to collect his performance outfit from the makeup and costume teacher.

Probably because his youthful appearance fit the campus stage so naturally, the makeup process—which was usually the most time-consuming part—was skipped altogether. They simply dabbed his face lightly, and he was dismissed.

The music hall couldn’t accommodate nearly 4,000 students and faculty, so the arts festival had to be held outdoors. Around the opening time, students from each class began bringing out chairs and lining up in their designated spots.

Class 7 of Grade 11 was seated slightly to the right of the center, which offered a pretty good view.

Their class’s performance was scheduled toward the latter part of the program. Chu Cheng and Lu Yan sat in the front row, watching the show with great enthusiasm—completely forgetting that he was supposed to perform later, too.

Teenagers in their mid-teens, eager to show off their talents, took turns dazzling the crowd with various performances.

Even the teacher groups did well fulfilling their “KPI^[1]”, the Chinese department delivered a powerful poetry recital, and the English department performed an impressive rap. As usual, the PE department showcased a martial arts routine—but this time, they added fireworks to their nunchaku display, maximizing the visual impact.

“That was so cool. The PE team totally has the vote in the bag this year,” Lu Yan shouted into the noisy crowd, leaning close to Mr. Chu.

Watching the flying sparks, Chu Cheng teased, “True, but if the IT teacher’s outfit gets burnt through, I wonder if that’ll count as a workplace injury.”

The students nearby burst into laughter.

“Mr. Chu, our performance is up next after this one—you’d better get ready backstage!”

It wasn’t until Han Rui showed up in her dance costume to remind him that Chu Cheng remembered he had a role to play. As he walked off, he looked back wistfully. “Too bad I’ll miss the math department’s performance again.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll record it for you,” Lu Yan waved him off, pulling out his phone and pointing it at the stage.

The math department’s act was the same every year: a two-person crosstalk routine that was more cringe than comedic.

Moments later, Lu Yan expressionlessly shook out his sore arm.

he honestly didn’t know what was worth watching in that act.

Just as the performers on stage were taking their bows, Yu Siting calmly walked up from the back of the class seating area and sat down in the spot Chu Cheng had just vacated.

“You’ve got good timing, Uncle,” Lu Yan grinned. Some people had clearly mastered the art of selective watching.

Yu Siting was just about to reply when the stage lights shifted, signaling the beginning of the joint performance by Class 5 and Class 7 of Grade 11.

“Ooh~ Mr. Chu is opening the show,” someone from the student crowd shouted, and all eyes immediately turned toward the stage.

The same person who had been casually watching the performances just ten minutes ago was now dressed in a traditional Chinese robe, sitting gracefully in front of a guzheng.

Chu Cheng was dressed in soft blue-gray tones. The understated, low-saturation colors gave him a refined, retro elegance that made people marvel—though his handsome face remained the same, the ethereal aura he now exuded made him seem like a completely different person from his usual self.

He performed solo, his slender fingers plucking the guzheng strings with measured rhythm.

The piece was Lantingji Xu.

As the guzheng music rippled through the air, the curtain behind him dropped.

Girls dressed in exquisite costumes stepped into the dreamlike scene woven by the melody and began to dance gracefully. Each of them had solid dance foundations and had practiced diligently, drawing loud cheers from the audience the moment they appeared.

Xu Wanwan, Han Rui, Jiang Yu… it seemed like every dancer’s name was being called out.

Even though the front-row cheers were close to the stage, Chu Cheng remained completely unfazed.

He kept his head lowered, focused on his performance. His gentle playing, accompanied by graceful singing and dancing, showcased nimble techniques—plucking and sweeping the strings as if he were immersed in another world entirely.

“This song is so beautiful.” The pure guzheng melody slowly quieted the audience, who began listening attentively.

Just as everyone was lost in the performance, the stage lights suddenly began to shift, alternating between brightness and darkness. A small patch of warm orange light lit up a corner, casting a projection onto the backdrop.

Zhang Xi began shaping the sand with her hands, her snow-white fingers painting one dreamy image after another, illuminated by the light like she was creating magic.

“Ah, it’s sand art!” someone in the audience realized.

As the visuals intensified, Chu Cheng’s guzheng playing transitioned from the soft patter of falling leaves to the thundering imagery of galloping horses and clashing swords. His fingers moved faster and faster across the strings, creating the sense of an unending battlefield.

The dancing on stage also shifted pace—spinning, whirling skirts—mesmerizing the audience with the harmony of sight, sound, and motion.

“Wait, is this really a high school arts festival performance?”

“Are these two classes trying to show everyone up?”

“What’s that saying again? ‘Though the late emperor’s cause was not yet complete, I have already lost all desire to return home.’ Let the music and dancing continue!”

In just a few minutes, the audience had been wowed three times in a row and erupted into enthusiastic applause once again.

As the performance drew to a close, the tempo of the music gradually slowed. The dreamscape faded, the dancers exited the stage, and the sand tray went dark…

Leaving only that half stanza of Lantingji Xu.

Now, Chu Cheng was the only one left on stage, still playing. Every move he made was elegant and poised, like a graceful tree in the wind.

A refined melody flowed slowly from his hands—nothing to do with romance or sentiment, just pure elegance.

The performance was a resounding success, and the audience burst into thunderous applause.

Lu Yan lowered his head and only then noticed his phone screen was still recording the earlier crosstalk act. He scratched his head in frustration. “Ugh, I forgot to record it. Do you think Mr. Chu would play it again for me?”

Yu Siting, sitting in the front row, had remained completely still throughout the entire performance.

Only when the last guzheng note faded out, the stage lights went dark, and no figure was left on stage, did he finally shift his gaze. He turned his head and said, “You can’t even sing in tune, and you claim to understand guzheng music?”

“I…” Lu Yan couldn’t come up with a comeback in time.

Just then, another math teacher sitting nearby leaned over. “Mr. Yu, that was pretty shady of you!”

“When the math department sent you to recruit outside help, you said no one was available. And yet you turned around and got the guest performer to join your class’s act. If your trio performance could’ve been split among departments, we wouldn’t be getting crushed like this right now!”

“I never interfere with my class’s performances,” Yu Siting replied calmly. “Even if they brought in a guest performer, it was the students who did it privately. If it were left to me, I probably wouldn’t have the face to ask.”

Facing his colleague’s half-joking, half-accusatory remarks, Yu Siting remained unusually calm. After giving a response, he simply sat upright and continued watching the performance.

However, ever since that zither melody, no matter how wonderful the subsequent programs were, they all seemed unimpressive to him.

Author’s note:

The big brother who doesn’t care whether the math group lives or dies but can make the class shine on its own: (On the surface) “It has nothing to do with me. I don’t have enough influence. I’m powerless.” Understandable, I get it—but I just can’t help.

(But in reality) “Did you see that? They’re all my people. Not lending you a single one.”