DCTMOAS Chapter 53

The video submitted by the informant was several minutes long. Everyone stood in the principal’s office and watched it from beginning to end.

In the entire video, Zhou Jin was indeed at the whiteboard explaining a problem the whole time. Meanwhile, Chu Cheng sat on the couch behind him, screen-sharing his game the entire time without lifting his head—even achieving a “Five Consecutive Kills” during it.

“There was no misconduct on Teacher Chu’s part in the video.”

As Chu Cheng’s main work partner, Yu Siting followed Director Yang into the office. After watching the footage, he calmly turned to the Education Bureau coordinator nearby. “Has someone reported him as well?”

“No,” answered a staff member from the investigation team, a man in his thirties. He glanced down at the official documents and continued, “We just want to speak with him directly. We hope you’ll cooperate fully.”

“What do you need me to answer?” Chu Cheng let out a soft sigh and met the investigation team’s gaze. He had thought he was mentally prepared—but the very first question, laden with pressure, still caught him off guard.

The investigator opened a notebook and asked,
“Teacher Chu, as Zhou Jin’s co-tenant, were you aware of his off-campus, unauthorized paid tutoring sessions? And how long has this been going on?”

“……”

After the interview ended, Chu Cheng left the principal’s office.

Yu Siting looked at the dejected man beside him and tried to comfort him. “You’ve already done your best.”

Chu Cheng shook his head.

He was new to the workforce, but not some naïve child. He understood the seriousness of this kind of situation—it wasn’t something that could be resolved with a few kind words or personal favors.

“What are you thinking about?” Seeing his co-teacher staying silent, Yu Siting looked over with concern. “This matter wasn’t even your fault, so you don’t need to—”

“I think I know who reported Senior Zhou.” Chu Cheng suddenly said.

That video had clearly been filmed in autumn. Judging by the camera angle, it didn’t seem like it was intended for reporting purposes at first. Zhou Jin’s home tutoring sessions were usually in small groups. Thinking back on the seating arrangement at the time, the angle could’ve only come from a few of the boys in Class 5.

And his senior had once mentioned having a falling out with one of them.

“Zhou Jin used to say that just showing a little kindness to that kid made him run wild, but being too strict would trigger rebellion. It was like dealing with an enemy—he had no idea what to do.”

Yu Siting asked, “So you think this student reported him for revenge?”

“It was an anonymous report, so of course we won’t find any hard proof, but…” Chu Cheng trailed off.

Because just then, the student he suspected happened to walk past the principal’s office—and even deliberately peeked inside.

Chu Cheng was furious and eager to get to the bottom of it. He stepped forward, only to feel an arm pull him back firmly around the waist.

“What are you doing?” Yu Siting’s arm was still wrapped around Chu Cheng’s stomach, unintentionally drawing him against his chest.

“I really don’t get it! Zhou Jin was so good to him!” Chu Cheng struggled to break free, trying to walk around him. But the force restraining him was too strong. Realizing they were still in the school building, he gradually calmed down. “Let go of me…”

Yu Siting slowly withdrew his arm, his face serious.
“Not everything can be explained by reason or emotion.”

Chu Cheng: “But we should at least try to understand what’s going on, right?”

Yu Siting glanced at his watch — it was just about the end of the school day. As he led his downcast co-teacher downstairs, he spoke softly, “Come with me to see Teacher Zhong.”

This time visiting the Education Bureau, Yu Siting didn’t make the same flashy entrance as before carrying a fruit basket. Instead, he and Chu Cheng acted like they were there for official business.

Teacher Zhong’s position at the bureau was relatively easy-going, and since it was after working hours, there were no outsiders in the office.

He was well-informed and took a particular interest in the affairs of Tenth High School, so he naturally understood the reason for Chu Cheng and Yu Siting’s visit.

“If it was just tutoring during off-hours and under mutual agreement, that would be a minor violation — not enough to warrant dismissal,” Teacher Zhong said as he poured tea for the three of them. After taking a sip, he continued, “But if a student claims they were treated unfairly for not attending tutoring, then that’s considered a violation of professional ethics.”

A chill ran down Chu Cheng’s spine. “So he wasn’t just reported for unauthorized tutoring?”

Teacher Zhong nodded. “That’s the serious part of Zhou Jin’s case. If all the allegations are confirmed, he could lose his teaching position entirely.”

“But how could something like that be proven? Just based on a student’s unverified claims?” Chu Cheng couldn’t sit still anymore, clearly agitated.

To be resented just for being strict… to be seen as biased simply for having high expectations… How could anyone accept that?

Teacher Zhong glanced at Chu Cheng, then looked at Yu Siting — who remained calm but visibly concerned. In the end, he only said, “Don’t worry. The investigation will find out the truth.”

---

After returning to school, No 10 Highschool began a week-long “Back-to-Study” winter refresher course.

The Education Bureau’s investigation team returned to the school several times. Each visit involved different people, but no final decision had been made regarding the case.

While under investigation, Zhou Jin was not allowed to work. Chu Cheng called him several times, but never got through. He could only get bits and pieces of updates from Teacher Shen.

Some time later, Zhou Jin finally reappeared and took the initiative to invite Chu Cheng to meet at the same café they had visited before.

After school in the afternoon, Chu Cheng arrived at the agreed time. The café was still quiet, and the moment he walked in, he spotted Zhou Jin at a round table, sipping juice.

There was also a plate of handmade cookies in front of him. Zhou Jin’s expression was as calm as ever, as if nothing had happened. When he looked up and saw Chu Cheng, he raised an eyebrow slightly. “I remember you specifically asked for these last time. I ordered them in advance for you. Don’t worry — it’s my treat again.”

“It’s already come to this, and you’re still saying useless things?” Chu Cheng sat across from him, both laughing and crying in disbelief.

“What else am I supposed to do?” Zhou Jin finally broke character, throwing his head back with a bitter smile. “Why’ve you been calling me nonstop? I checked my call log — you’ve called more than my mom.”

Chu Cheng still ordered a coffee and handed the menu back to the waiter with a soft click of his tongue. “You asked me here just to complain? Can you be serious for once? What’s your plan for dealing with all this?”

Zhou Jin pursed his lips, looking helpless. “The investigation is still ongoing. But the situation’s pretty serious. A formal reprimand, returning the tutoring income, losing bonuses, and being barred from awards or promotions — all of that’s pretty much guaranteed.”

“That’s not what matters most,” Chu Cheng locked eyes with him, trying to extract the real issue. “What else?”

Zhou Jin went silent.

He picked up his pomegranate juice and took a big gulp, only to pucker up from the sourness. After a pause to recover, he spoke in a quiet voice,
“I’ve already volunteered to be transferred out of my teaching position.”

Chu Cheng was stunned. “Are you insane?”

“Let me explain,” Zhou Jin said, clearly anticipating his reaction. He raised a calming hand and spoke patiently. “Right now, it’s a period of strict enforcement. If I make it through this without losing my job or credentials, I’ll consider myself lucky.”

“Even if I didn’t request it, they’d probably force the transfer anyway. But doing it myself now might give me a chance to return to the classroom after a few years of observation. Plus, a leader I know said the school’s science building is short for a teacher to manage chemistry equipment. It’s an easy job.”

Despite how serious everything sounded, Chu Cheng couldn’t help but notice Zhou Jin seemed… oddly composed.

“Are you really okay?”

“I guess so.” Zhou Jin replied. “Actually, you kind of inspired me.”

Chu Cheng blinked. “I inspired you?”

“Yeah. Bet you didn’t expect that, huh?” Zhou Jin could even laugh at a time like this.

“Nan Nan and I both started working right after graduation. We’ve had barely any personal space since. To save money, I taught through every vacation. I haven’t taken her out in ages.”

Chu Cheng sipped his coffee, quietly listening.

Zhou Jin continued,
“When I got married, I kept wondering how my dad — just a regular worker — managed to come up with so much money. Later, I realized it wasn’t that complicated. He worked hard all his life… just to save for his kid.”

“Last time I talked to you here, I started thinking… Our house is fully paid off. Both our parents have pensions and retirement benefits. Why are we working ourselves to death? My wife and I aren’t even that materialistic. Our combined income is more than enough. And after all… we’ve got what people call a ‘secure job.’”

Chu Cheng asked softly, “Senior… do you regret it? If you had known it would turn out like this, would you still have been so strict, so determined to correct your students?”

Zhou Jin paused.
Then, he chose not to answer that question.

Though his words sounded clear and well thought-out, there was still something about him that felt hollow — as if his passion had been quietly drained away. He added,
“Maybe education was never really a calling for me. Maybe it was just a way to make a living.”

—

After parting with his senior, Chu Cheng felt a mess inside. On the way back to school from the café, he happened to see Zhou Jin’s latest social media post:

[I don’t really know how to express how I feel. So… I just hope the teachers you meet in the future are like me. And also, not like me.]

Clicking on his senior’s profile and scrolling down a bit, Chu Cheng saw an earlier post from the end of last semester.

He remembered how Zhou Jin, newly married and incredibly busy, had still stayed late every night helping his class review and go over homework.

Then there was this post:

[All those sleepless nights were worth it — the kids finally passed!!]

Even through a screen, Chu Cheng could feel how genuinely happy he had been back then.

And suddenly, the bitterness hit him like a wave.

There are all kinds of people in society — and naturally, all kinds of teachers too. Some are good, some bad. But evaluations of the same teacher often vary, depending on which student is doing the judging.

In the end, it always seems like both sides feel like the ones who’ve been wronged.
Do the student-teacher relationships always have to be this adversarial?

Chu Cheng couldn’t figure it out. He dragged his heavy steps up the stairs, and before he realized it, he was back at the fifth-floor office.

He looked up — it was the Math Department.

“Big bro.” Chu Cheng pushed open the door and entered.

Yu Siting looked up in response, surprised to see him.

Chu Cheng sat in the empty seat beside him, leaning back lazily into the chair. In a low voice, he said, “I suddenly realized… what you told me before was right.”

“When did I ever lecture you?” Yu Siting put down the lesson plans in his hands and turned his chair to face him directly.

“I just… I’ve never been beaten down by reality. I didn’t know how the world actually works,” Chu Cheng said, resting his chin on the glass partition of the desk.

Yu Siting could hear the exhaustion and inner conflict in his voice and asked gently, “Still upset over Zhou Jin?”

Chu Cheng murmured, “I know it’s not right to think this way… but I really can’t bring myself to like some of these students anymore.”

If he harshly criticized a student today, what if later that student turned around and accused him of emotional abuse? Of damaging their mental health?

Then wouldn’t it be safer, smarter, to just turn a blind eye from the start? To protect himself and play it safe?

“Big bro, it feels like all my passion just got doused with a bucket of ice water.”

Seeing how stuck in his own head Chu Cheng was, Yu Siting felt a pang of sympathy. On impulse, he reached out and gently tousled the stray strands of hair on Chu Cheng’s head. His touch was so light, it didn’t even register.

“Teacher Chu, a gentleman, is judged by his actions, not his thoughts. As long as your conduct is upright, you don’t need to be afraid of the rest.”

But Chu Cheng didn’t notice the gesture, and kept spiraling into his own thoughts. “But who’s really that flawless? You said it yourself — people are judged by what they do, because no one’s perfect inside.”

“Zhou Jin just got married, just started a family. He wanted to earn more, give the one he loves a better life. What’s so wrong about that? The tutoring was voluntary — it’s not like he forced anyone.”

Yu Siting said calmly, “Everything — and everyone — that reaches toward the light also casts a shadow. Even if you’re careful with every step, never taking a wrong turn, accidents can still happen.”

“Especially in this profession, you have to learn how to balance passion with discipline, gentleness with firmness. You have to accept that there’s a gap between ideals and reality. You don’t just need energy — you need resilience.”

“If just seeing the experiences of a few people is enough to make you this pessimistic and frustrated, then there’ll be countless more emo moments in the future. Might as well quit now and never come back.”

Yu Siting was usually cold and sharp-tongued, but seeing the person in front of him like this, he forcibly swallowed the last half of his sentence.

But Chu Cheng had already caught on. He muttered in a small voice, “It’s not like I don’t want to quit too. There’s no one else around here. Can’t I at least vent a little?”

Yu Siting turned his gaze away and denied, “I didn’t say that.”

“I saw the words right at the tip of your tongue!” Chu Cheng raised his eyebrows, accusing.

“Did you have dinner?” Yu Siting didn’t want him fixating on it, so he smiled and changed the subject.

Chu Cheng shook his head and answered honestly, “Had coffee with my senior.”

“Your stomach doesn’t want to live anymore?” Yu Siting was helpless and pulled out his phone to order food.

Chu Cheng insisted he really had no appetite.

Yu Siting relented. “Fine, then let’s not eat for now. There’s still a lot of food at home. I’ll make some soup later tonight—you can have a bit.”

“Mm.” Chu Cheng replied absentmindedly, then two seconds later, he realized something and asked, “You can make soup?”

Yu Siting glanced at him and casually let a secret slip: “It’s not like you haven’t had it before.”

“The one that makes other soups pale in comparison,” Chu Cheng thought of the ginseng chicken soup from before, his expression screaming “I knew it.

But it had been a while since he’d had it—and he kind of missed it.

He smacked his lips and added, “Then after school, I’ll buy one of those whole grain pancakes from the stall out front to go with it. Want one too?”

Seeing him recover his usual energy, Yu Siting curved his lips into a smile: “Yeah, bring me one too.”

---

Author’s Note:

Mr. Chu’s Observation Notes:

His “fierce” face doesn’t really look that scary.

But he personally made me soup, okay?