DCTMOAS Chapter 30
by SuxxiThe Chinese Department office was quiet and empty that morning.
The warning bell rang.
A colleague stood up with teaching materials in hand. Upon turning around and seeing Chu Cheng still sitting at his desk with his phone in hand, the colleague casually asked, “Mr. Chu, your classes are over for today?”
“Yeah.” Chu Cheng looked up with a polite smile and watched the colleague walk out, then turned his gaze back to his phone.
On his WeChat chat screen, the conversation on the other end was with Dr. Qiao from the Gastroenterology Department at the Municipal Hospital.
[From early December to after the New Year, inpatient beds will be very tight. So I suggest you finalize the date within this month, so we can reserve the operating slot in advance.]
[Okay, I’ll think it over and get back to you as soon as possible.]
After replying, Chu Cheng thought for a moment and continued typing:
[Also, about what we discussed earlier—if a direct family member can’t be present to sign during anesthesia consent, what should I do?]
[Dr. Qiao: The patient can sign the informed consent form personally, but a family member must be present for the entire surgery.]
[Chu Cheng: Got it. Thank you for your help.]
[Dr. Qiao: You’re welcome.]
Chu Cheng pressed the lock screen button on his phone, leaned back into his office chair, and let out a long sigh.
Who should I ask to accompany me?
It definitely wouldn’t be someone from school—everyone had classes. Brother Chuan couldn’t take time off either… After thinking it over, Chu Cheng decided to call his uncle.
After two rings, the call was answered—but a clear and composed female voice came through the receiver.
“Hello, Mr. Chu. I’m Mr. Jin’s personal assistant.”
“Oh, hello.” Chu Cheng paused for a moment before realizing what was going on. “Is he busy right now?”
The assistant replied politely, “Yes, Mr. Jin is currently attending a real estate bidding conference in Su City. If there’s something urgent, I can relay the message on your behalf.”
“Ah, that’s not necessary…” Chu Cheng was just about to say it wasn’t anything urgent.
The assistant spoke again, “Please hold on a moment—Mr. Jin just stepped out. I’ll transfer your call to him now.”
About two minutes later, a low voice came through the receiver: “Hello?”
Chu Cheng greeted him, “Uncle.”
“Well, this is rare.” Mr. Jin chuckled. “What made you suddenly think of calling me? Got yourself into trouble?”
Chu Cheng couldn’t help but mutter quietly, “Why does it sound like I only call you when I need something?”
“Isn’t that the case?” Mr. Jin replied as if it were obvious. “I’m busy right now, so stop beating around the bush and get to the point.”
Chu Cheng gave a little “oh”: “Alright, I’ll keep it short. This might upset you a bit, but don’t panic, okay?”
After that preface, Chu Cheng pulled the phone away from his ear, opened his photo album, and sent his medical record images to him.
Once the message was successfully sent, the other end of the call went silent—probably because Mr. Jin was checking the files.
Chu Cheng didn’t care whether his uncle could hear him clearly and went ahead explaining everything in one go:
“Take a look at that. Basically, I need to get an endoscopy done soon, but I don’t have a family member to accompany me. So, I’m asking you to help me out—without alerting Mr. Chu or Ms. Jin. You should have time, right?”
“……”
There was a brief pause on the other end of the line, then suddenly a string of curses:
“Chu Cheng, are you out of your mind? You think this is about my schedule?! When did you even get the checkup? Which hospital? This is a big deal and you didn’t say a word…”
Even though Chu Cheng had mentally prepared himself, his ears still got blasted. He squinted and set the phone face-down on the desk for half a minute. When he picked it back up, Mr. Jin still hadn’t finished ranting.
“And what do you mean ‘without alerting anyone’? Your father only has you. If anything goes even slightly wrong, can I take that responsibility?!”
Chu Cheng couldn’t help but interrupt:
“Uncle~ I already said don’t panic. This isn’t something I can explain in just one or two sentences. The doctor’s still waiting for me to set the surgery date. So, when will you be available?”
But Mr. Jin still felt it was inappropriate.
“You’ve got to be kidding me. You think a surgery is something you can just decide without telling the family? If Professor Jin finds out, she’ll kick me out of the house.”
Chu Cheng responded,
“But if she finds out, then so will my dad. Do you think he won’t rush over? He’s in his sixties already. Besides, it’s just a simple endoscopic procedure—it can even be done outpatient.”
“Enough. You have two choices: either you tell them yourself, or I make the call for you,” Mr. Jin offered no compromise.
Seeing that his uncle refused to agree, Chu Cheng played his trump card:
“Then I choose neither. If Uncle really can’t help, I’ll just drop the City Hospital and find some back-alley clinic with a sign out front. They probably won’t require so many formalities.”
“You better not do anything stupid!” His uncle’s voice instantly shot up.
In the background, a voice faintly came through:
“Mr. Jin, this is the revised bidding proposal. Could you please take a look?”
“Hold on, I’m dealing with a personal matter,” Mr. Jin replied, clearly busy, but still yelling into the phone,
“Chu Cheng, don’t get too cocky. Just because you’ve holed yourself up in some godforsaken place doesn’t mean no one can keep an eye on you. As soon as I wrap up this project, I’m coming over.”
A city with an average housing price of nearly 20,000 per square meter, and you’re calling it godforsaken? Chu Cheng thought.
Before he had time to mentally roast him, his uncle barked again:
“Did you hear me? Answer me.”
“Mm~” Chu Cheng responded sweetly, goal accomplished.
After hanging up the phone, he let out a slight sigh of relief, set his phone down, and opened the notebook on his desk to begin preparing his lesson.
Although Class 7 of Grade 11 had performed impressively in the recent midterm exams, the Chinese language subject had dragged the overall score down, which continued to weigh on Chu Cheng’s mind.
In the days following the exam, he had been carefully reviewing the students’ answer sheets. The lack of a solid foundation was apparent—many students had written haphazardly, unable to identify key points in the questions. This wasn’t something that could be improved by simply continuing with the regular curriculum.
Since there was little he could do about their natural aptitude or comprehension levels, the only option was to rely on technique-based training and standardized thinking strategies to help them score better. So, Chu Cheng specifically asked his elder brother to allocate 20 minutes each morning for short reading tests focused on modern Chinese comprehension.
The students were relieved—finally spared from the anxiety of doing math drills every morning. Instead, they just needed to read a passage and listen to Mr. Chu’s explanations, which made the mornings much more manageable.
Chu Cheng spent a long time writing in his lesson prep notebook. At noon, he had a few bites of his boxed lunch before dozing off on his office desk.
He was later woken up by the ringing of his phone.
“Hello?” Chu Cheng answered groggily, his eyes still bleary from sleep.
“I’m already outside your school,” came the familiar voice of his uncle.
Chu Cheng was instantly wide awake. “What?”
“Weren’t you the one who asked me to come?” his uncle replied rhetorically.
That was way too sudden.
Chu Cheng sat upright at his desk, ran his hands through his tousled hair, and said, “I thought your project would take at least another week or so.”
“The weather’s getting colder—it’s better not to delay. After the procedure, you won’t be able to do any strenuous activity for a while. When it snows in the winter, the roads will be icy and dangerous.
You think I can be at ease knowing you’re biking around on that junky old bicycle to and from work? Do me a favor and stop giving me reasons to worry.”
“How is it a junky bike again? Weren’t you the one who gave it to me? Besides, I never even use it for commuting.”
“Just come down quickly. I booked an appointment with a specialist for this afternoon. Let’s go get you properly checked out so we can schedule the surgery. It’ll ease my mind.”
“This is too sudden. I haven’t even requested leave or arranged for another teacher to cover my class.”
As he spoke back and forth with his uncle, Chu Cheng threw on his jacket and left the language department office, heading downstairs toward Class 7’s homeroom.
His uncle’s voice continued to grumble through the phone: “You only have one class a day. How hard can it be?”
Chu Cheng responded in a soft voice, “I’m still the co-homeroom teacher, you know. I can’t just ditch my students out of nowhere—that wouldn’t be responsible. What kind of class advisor would that make me?”
“Oh…” His uncle paused, seemingly catching on. “You mean that colleague who occasionally takes jabs at you? The one Xu Chuan mentioned before? No matter how busy he is, is he really going to stop you from taking medical leave? Aren’t teachers all about following protocols anyway? Send me his contact info. I’ll ask him myself—need me to go upstairs and sign your leave slip personally, as your guardian?”
“Just how many spies have you planted around me?” Chu Cheng complained. “Wasn’t Professor Jin assigning Zhou Jin enough? Now you’ve gotten in touch with Brother Chuan too. Besides, he already thinks I’m a reckless fool. Things between us have only just started to ease up—don’t go stirring the pot now.”
He was baffled by how the other party had gotten their information, but there was no time to argue. As he pushed open the front door of the classroom, he said, “Wait for me. I’m in class now—I’ll head down after I talk to the students.”
Chu Cheng hung up and scanned the classroom, but there was no sign of Yu Siting. He turned to a student cleaning the blackboard and asked, “Where’s Big Brother?”
Ji Yanan replied, “It’s Thursday. He’s probably over at the competition class helping with the training.”
“Oh, right,” Chu Cheng said, slapping his forehead. Then he noticed a group of students, including the class monitor, crowding around the window. “What are they doing over there?”
Ji Yanan said, “Looking at a car.”
“What car?” Chu Cheng walked over curiously.
The second-year teaching building faced a wide intersection with an open view, just enough to see a yellow-plated Maybach parked across the street.
“Is that the legendary Zeppelin 62s?”
“Look how long that thing is! I can already picture some big business mogul lounging inside doing deals.”
“Wait, I think it’s heading into the school.”
As the students leaned side by side on the windowsill chatting, the Maybach inched forward a few meters.
“It’s been parked for a while—it’s probably just a parent picking up their kid… Whoa, Mr. Chu, you scared me.” Lu Yan paused mid-sentence, realizing someone had suddenly appeared behind them.
Chu Cheng’s eyes were also fixed on the car across the street, his expression slightly complicated.
“But I’ve never heard of any student here with a parent who drives a car like that.” The discussion continued as naturally as before. Someone even turned to Chu Cheng. “Mr. Chu, do you know anything about it?”
What else could it be?
His rebellious uncle was clearly using the bold tactic of driving an ultra-luxury car straight to the school entrance to pressure his nephew into obedience.
“Stop looking—your English teacher’s here. Get back to your seats,” Chu Cheng said, momentarily speechless before snapping back to take control.
The students protested, “But we want to see who he’s picking up!”
“He’s picking me up, okay? Now sit down,” Chu Cheng blurted out.
“Just a peek…” His casual tone didn’t make much impact—the students reluctantly tore themselves away from the windows.
“Ms. Shen,” Chu Cheng said as he returned to the podium, leaning in to speak to Shen Nannan, “I need to head out for a bit. Mr. Yu is busy—if he doesn’t make it back before class ends, could you keep an eye on the students for me?”
“No problem,” Shen Nannan agreed easily. She had served as Class 7’s assistant homeroom teacher when they were in Grade 10 and was familiar with everything.
Chu Cheng had no doubt about what his uncle was capable of—calling Yu Siting directly would be right up his alley. So, not daring to delay further, he quickly went to the academic office to request leave, then sent a WeChat message.
[Mr. Jin, I’m heading out now. Could you ask your driver to move your beloved car to somewhere a little less conspicuous?]
Half a minute later, the Maybach parked on the roadside silently pulled away.
Chu Cheng exited from the school’s side gate and got into the car. As soon as he settled into his seat, someone grabbed the back of his neck.
Sure! Here’s the English translation of the passage:
“Aiya, Uncle…”
Chu Cheng’s vision went black as he instinctively shrugged his shoulders to dodge, but it was useless.
A strong hand forcefully pinned him against the side of the front leather seat. Right after, a rugged and mature face with sharp features closed in on him.
“You’ve grown some guts, huh? Threatening me? Go ahead and try walking into one of those roadside clinics — see if I won’t break your legs!” Director Jin was exactly twelve years younger than Professor Jin. In his prime, his scolding was full of commanding presence.
Because he had no children of his own and there were no other younger relatives in the Jin family, he had spoiled Chu Cheng since childhood, giving him anything he asked for. Even when disciplining, he had never laid a hand on him.
Chu Cheng knew this well and wasn’t afraid at all. He shot him a sideways glance and grinned, revealing a set of white teeth.
“I was just saying it casually. Why are you getting all worked up?”
“Still laughing? Do you know how worried I was when I suddenly saw your medical record?” In the end, his uncle couldn’t bring himself to hit him. He just grabbed and squeezed him a few times to vent, then let go.
“Well, if I hadn’t gone for a check-up, how would I have found out… I was pretty shocked myself when I first got the results,” Chu Cheng mumbled in defense. Then, still uneasy, he asked, “You didn’t tell my mom, did you?”
Director Jin gave a cold snort.
“If I had told her, do you think you’d still be sitting comfortably in this car?”
Chu Cheng leaned forward slightly to confirm that only the driver and secretary were in the front seats, then let out a sigh of relief.
The driver looked into the rearview mirror and asked,
“Sir, where to next?”
His uncle leaned back against the leather seat.
“Take him home first.”
Chu Cheng was startled.
“Aren’t we going to the hospital? Why go to my place?”
But his uncle replied,
“How are you going to be hospitalized without packing your things?”
“But they might not even schedule me this week,” Chu Cheng said.
“You don’t need to worry about the surgery schedule. All you need to do is stay relaxed and cooperate with the doctors.” Director Jin replied with his eyes closed.
“Don’t want me at your place? Then I have to go. What do you have to hide? Give directions. Drive.”
Those four short words were an order to two people.
Seeing the man next to him closing his eyes to rest, Chu Cheng had no choice but to shut up and go along with it.
“Look at this place you picked yourself. Old and broken is one thing — but you don’t even clean up.” Ever since they started going upstairs, his uncle had been wandering around the apartment, complaining.
Just that morning, he was still fighting with powerful rivals over a plot of land worth over a billion. By the afternoon, he had downgraded himself to visiting an 80-square-meter rental apartment.
“I usually keep it tidy too,” Chu Cheng gently defended himself.
And he wasn’t lying.
The place was actually relatively clean — within the areas he usually used, like the bedroom, bathroom, and dining table.
As for the rest…
Because he was always out early and back late with hardly any spare time, the laundry that had dried on the balcony a week ago was still hanging there; the sliding glass door to the kitchen hadn’t been opened in over half a month; and the tear-off calendar in the living room was still stuck on the beginning of last month.
While busy boiling water to make tea, Chu Cheng realized there wasn’t even a single tea leaf left in the house — only a big box of instant black coffee. He forced a smile and asked,
“How about some instant coffee instead?”
Uncle: “…”
When Director Jin was a child, both his parents were busy with creative work and research. His eldest sister, acting like a mother, basically raised him.
After Professor Jin got married, she and Mr. Chu had a harmonious relationship and didn’t have a child until their tenth wedding anniversary. The elderly couple were frugal with themselves but never hesitated to spend on their son.
Although Professor Jin often reminded her younger brother not to spoil Chu Cheng too much, both families were quite well-off, so the boy had never lacked anything growing up.
Perhaps because of this, Chu Cheng never developed much desire for material things. In his life goals, there was never a dream of becoming filthy rich — only a desire for freedom and ease.
“Stop fussing around. Go pack your things and bring your previous medical records,” his uncle said.
Chu Cheng paused.
“Uh… I need to think about where I put them.”
Seeing how careless he was with his own health, his uncle’s face darkened.
“You’d better find them quickly. Otherwise, if you don’t mind the discomfort, I’ll take you to redo all the tests.”
Chu Cheng didn’t respond.
His uncle had been grumbling since the morning phone call. Chu Cheng understood that his tone was sharp because he was worried, but still couldn’t help feeling a little upset.
That fleeting look in his eyes didn’t escape Director Jin’s notice.
“Are you upset now?”
He waited for a response. When there was none, he softened his tone and smiled a little:
“I’m not nitpicking everything or doubting your lifestyle and goals. But you’ve got to learn to take care of yourself, right? Otherwise, why come sneaking to me for help?”
Chu Cheng, however, raised his head without flinching.
“Birth, aging, illness, and death — no one escapes them. Uncle, the reason I didn’t tell my parents is because I don’t want them to worry about my health. Not because I’m afraid of them knowing how I live now.”
“Alright, alright, I apologize.” Seeing how serious his nephew was, Director Jin willingly gave in. He raised his hand earnestly and began listing out everything he had said.
“I shouldn’t have said the city you chose is in the middle of nowhere and far from me; shouldn’t have mocked you for being swamped with just one class a day; shouldn’t have complained that the bike you love is junk and too hard for commuting; shouldn’t have grumbled that your rented place is small and uncomfortable; and shouldn’t have criticized your instant coffee — unhealthy and awful…”
“Okay—” Chu Cheng dragged out the word helplessly, “You don’t have to repeat all of it.”
“Blame it on me getting older and becoming naggy. After all, no one can stay with you forever — the most important thing is your own happiness.” Director Jin suddenly leaned in closer, continuing,
“But that line you said earlier — ‘no one escapes birth, aging, illness, and death’ — was very well said. When I die someday, before I donate everything, I’ll make sure to leave a bit for you. So even if you regret anything in the future, it’ll be okay.”
Chu Cheng quickly cut him off, a little annoyed.
“Uncle, you’re only in your 40s. Why are you saying this kind of thing?”
“You brought it up first,” Director Jin replied nonchalantly.
“When I heard you say it just now, I felt just as uncomfortable as you do now.”
Chu Cheng: “…”
His uncle finally stopped nitpicking and gave his nephew’s arm a tug. “Come on, let’s not waste any more time. I wonder if your so-called ideal life includes moments like now, where even specialist appointments wait on you.”
Chu Cheng was silent for two more seconds, then spoke:
“Uncle, do you know who you just reminded me of—with the way you pissed someone off, coaxed them, and then turned snarky again once things were fine?”
“Who?” Mr. Jin was genuinely curious.
Chu Cheng smirked. “Someone else’s uncle.”
“Does this kid ever say anything that actually makes sense?” Mr. Jin looked at his secretary in confusion. But clearly, the secretary didn’t understand it either.
The doctors at the city hospital were all of equal caliber. Chu Cheng knew that getting a hundred specialist appointments wouldn’t change the outcome regarding his upcoming gastroscopy. But since his uncle insisted, he had no choice but to cooperate.
According to hospital policy, non-emergency surgeries could only be arranged 24 hours after admission. That meant the surgery would happen Friday afternoon. If so, he could probably start moving around normally by Tuesday or Wednesday—maybe miss a couple fewer classes.
So, Chu Cheng readily agreed to complete all admission checks that same day. His uncle never expected his usually laid-back nephew to show such work ethic and was busy handling the paperwork.
Because it was so last-minute and beds were tight, even Mr. Jin couldn’t secure a VIP single room. A double room was already the best option.
Chu Cheng carried his bedding into the room himself. The bed directly opposite the door was already occupied, but the patient wasn’t around—nurses said he was out for physical therapy. So Chu Cheng had to take the bed by the window.
While arranging his bedding, he asked, “Can I still go home tonight?”
“I asked the nurses earlier—there’ll be rounds tonight,” Mr. Jin said, smoothing out a wrinkle in the sheets as he sat down on the edge in his expensive suit trousers. “You’d better just stay put. You shouldn’t be overexerting yourself the day before surgery, and don’t even think about staying up late playing games.”
“But I—”
Mr. Jin didn’t give him a chance to argue. “Whatever you need, just let me know. My secretary will take care of it.”
“Uncle, did your morning business meeting go well? Did you secure the land? Are you free these next few days? Are you really planning to stay here and watch over me this entire time I’m hospitalized?”
Chu Cheng’s questions came one after another, his tone building in frustration until he nearly broke down.
Wasn’t this just like being imprisoned?
But Mr. Jin patiently answered them one by one:
“No, it didn’t go well. No, I didn’t get the land. Yes, I have a lot going on. But do you have anyone else to stay with you?”
Apparently not.
Chu Cheng pouted.
With no better option, Chucheng leaned against the headboard, playing with his phone. Suddenly, a voice call came through on WeChat.
It was Yu Siting.
Chu Cheng glanced at the time—he hadn’t realized it had gotten so late. The earlier flurry of medical checks had completely made him forget to call. He hurriedly tapped the answer button.
“Mr. Yu.”
“Mm.” Yu Siting’s voice was as magnetic as ever, though softer than how he usually spoke in class. “Why the sudden leave? Your stomach’s acting up again?”
“No, I’m already at the hospital,” Chu Cheng explained. “It’s because of the inpatient department’s bed availability. The doctor said my surgery is minor with a fast recovery, so they suggested doing it earlier to avoid delays later.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line.
“So, you’re already preparing for surgery?”
Chu Cheng replied, “Yeah. After the anesthesia evaluation tomorrow morning, the surgery is scheduled for the afternoon. I just want to get it over with soon. Otherwise, it feels like there’s something constantly weighing on me.”
The person on the other end didn’t respond right away.
Sensing the strange atmosphere, Chu Cheng worried he might’ve upset him by not giving advance notice. He quickly explained,
“Uh, sorry—it was kind of a sudden decision. But I’ve already arranged everything for the class. I left right after teaching today, and Professor Yang, my mentor, will cover Friday’s lesson and go over the previous exercises. Plus, the school is on break this weekend. And next Monday…”
“Mr. Chu.” Yu Siting suddenly cut him off. “I asked you several times about this. Did you really just not take any of it to heart?”
“Huh?” A wave of unease swept through Chu Cheng. He asked cautiously, “About what?”
The other sighed lightly, sounding a bit helpless.
“I told you to let me know the exact date of your surgery.”
Chu Cheng paused, unsure how to respond.
Yu Siting continued, “Is anyone staying with you this time?”
Chu Cheng glanced at the man next to him reading the news on his phone.
“Yeah. My uncle’s here.”
“All right. Then I’ll come visit you later,” Yu Siting said, sounding slightly more reassured than before.
“No need,” Chu Cheng instinctively declined the offer. “It’s not like it’s a major surgery or anything. I just didn’t want to bother anyone since I know you guys are all busy with classes.”
But Yu Siting ignored his refusal, replying firmly,
“Well, if the school’s on break this weekend, then I’m on break too. Get some rest.”
“…Alright then.”
After hanging up, Chu Cheng turned to look again at his uncle’s stern, unamused face.
He hadn’t even gotten rid of one prison guard, and now another was joining in.
Now he really was in jail.
How dare he even breathe too loudly at this point?
Author’s note:
Mr. Jin: Other than your good uncle, is anyone else going to stay with you?
Chu Cheng: Someone else’s uncle.