DCTMOAS Chapter 8
by SuxxiAfter the short Teacher’s Day break, the class schedule at No. 10 High School resumed as usual.
At a quarter past seven, Chu Cheng entered Class 7’s classroom through the back door, holding an iced Americano.
“Overslept? You’re an hour late.” Lu Yan was flipping through a book of essays. Without even looking, he knew exactly who would show up for work at this hour.
No one answered beside him.
Lu Yan looked up in confusion and saw Chu Cheng leaning back in his chair, yawning, eyes still dreamy and unfocused. He smiled and said, “Looks like you’re not awake yet. Want to nap a bit longer? I’ll cover for you.”
Chu Cheng glanced toward the podium where Yu Siting sat, remembering the photo he had taken still saved on the man’s phone. He shook his head and politely declined, “No thanks. I’d rather not add to my collection of blackmail material.”
“Suit yourself. Class is almost over anyway.” Lu Yan lowered his head and continued with his own work.
With the big boss present, self-study periods were always quiet and orderly. Other than the occasional sound of turning pages, there was no other noise.
Chu Cheng didn’t need to worry about discipline, so he busied himself with something else—bending over to tidy the files he had left in a mess the past couple of days.
“Give it to me.”
Suddenly, a rather abrupt voice echoed through the classroom.
“Huh?” Chu Cheng jumped and instinctively looked up, only to see a tall figure standing with his back to him.
He’d been too focused just now and hadn’t noticed when Yu Siting had come down from the podium.
The student caught red-handed beside him probably felt the same.
Bai Xiaolong, flustered and pale, stammered, “Big bro, I just took it out to check the time—I wasn’t playing.”
“Cut the crap. Hand it over.”
Yu Siting wasn’t interested in excuses. His face was expressionless as he reached out his hand.
Under the chill of his gaze, Bai Xiaolong stood his ground for a few seconds before finally giving in to the pressure and obediently handed over his phone.
From that angle, Chu Cheng caught a glimpse of the screen—it was paused on a ranked game interface.
Gaming this early in the morning—bold move.
Yu Siting didn’t say another word. He turned away with a frown just as the bell signaling the end of self-study rang. He had to get to his first class and could only pass the confiscated phone to Chu Cheng, who was still standing nearby, watching.
“Keep it for now.”
“Sure.” Chu Cheng nodded, pocketed the student’s phone, and carried the stack of newly organized workbooks back to the office.
Creak—
Creak—
The door to the Chinese Department office opened and closed twice in quick succession. Chu Cheng hadn’t even warmed his seat when a guilty-looking figure slipped in behind him.
“Mr. Chu.” Bai Xiaolong came straight to Chu Cheng’s desk.
“What is it?”
“Can I have my phone back?”
Chu Cheng had guessed the reason for the visit but didn’t expect the student to be so blunt. His eyebrows relaxed, and he smiled, “Oh? So you’re picking on the soft target, huh? Would you have come if it were still in your big bro’s hands?”
“Well… you have it now.” Bai Xiaolong muttered, trying to sound both pleading and persuasive. “Give it back, I won’t play again.”
Chu Cheng let out a short laugh and didn’t look at him. He kept organizing papers as he replied, “I’m not that easy to sway. Save your tricks.”
The room fell silent. No one said another word for a while.
It was the first period of the day, and several teachers were sitting idle in the office. The tall and sturdy class rep stood there stubbornly, unwilling to give up, while Chu Cheng remained calmly focused on his own tasks. The motionless standoff quickly drew attention.
Eventually, the student broke first, unable to hold back any longer. “Then when do you plan to give it back? At least give me a time.”
Chu Cheng paused and looked up at him gently, his tone clear and firm: “I didn’t confiscate it. I’m just holding onto it. It’s not up to me. If you really want it, go talk to your big bro.”
The moment Chu Cheng mentioned Yu Siting again, Bai Xiaolong’s expression changed. “Forget it then, I’ll just buy a new one. If there’s nothing else, I’ll head back to class.”
With that, the student turned and pushed open the door. This time, the door’s rebound creaked even louder than before.
He sure lost his temper fast.
Chu Cheng lifted his gaze toward the departing figure. The corners of his eyes flicked slightly, but he said nothing. Instead, the other teachers in the office voiced their displeasure on his behalf.
“That kid’s really getting out of line. He’s nothing like he used to be.”
There weren’t many troublemakers in Class 7. Chu Cheng had already gone over all their performance records. Bai Xiaolong’s rankings had been in free fall for the last three exams, constantly hitting new lows.
Just from his colleague’s tone, he could hear a hint of disappointment.
Chu Cheng didn’t know the student well and asked curiously, “Ms. Sun, you’ve taught him before?”
“Not me, but my husband was his homeroom teacher in middle school.” The Chinese teacher at the next desk scooted her chair a bit closer and continued, “He used to do pretty well before high school. But ever since he moved up, he hasn’t been able to adjust. One issue after another. After bombing a few of the first exams in tenth grade, he just gave up on himself entirely.”
“Bai Xiaolong? Yeah, he’s pretty well-known in the grade.”
That comment sparked a wave of chatter—one stone stirred up a thousand ripples. The teachers all joined in, each offering stories of the student’s past “glory.”
“He’s basically a teenager addicted to the internet—classic case of someone seeking validation through his phone. Last semester he livestreamed himself playing Honor of Kings, even did boosting for classmates. Ended up dragging everyone down with him. His former homeroom teacher was so fed up they refused to keep him, and that’s how he ended up in Mr. Yu’s class.”
“He used to be a decent kid, just naive. Thinks he’s got talent in mobile gaming and keeps saying he’s going pro. His parents are frequent visitors at school, but they’ve given up. Told us straight out they can’t and won’t control him—as long as he manages to graduate, that’s enough.”
“But he’s only in his second year of high school,” Chu Cheng said, surprised at what he was hearing.
Ms. Sun let out a sigh and shared her veteran perspective. “He’s got a lot of pride. Once he digs in his heels, no one can do a thing. Confiscating his phone doesn’t do much. If he really throws a tantrum, his family might just buy him a new one. So don’t take it too seriously.”
It had just been some casual office gossip, and most of the teachers moved on afterward. But Chu Cheng was left thoughtful.
The kid’s grades were already at rock bottom. If things kept going this way, there really wouldn’t be any hope left. And to decide his future so carelessly—it all felt a bit too reckless.
After a moment of reflection, Chu Cheng opened his WeChat contacts. During a previous staff meeting, the subject teachers had exchanged numbers, though he hadn’t really spoken to most of them since.
He found Yu Siting’s name, tapped the keypad, and sent a message:
[What do you plan to do about Bai Xiaolong?]
Yu Siting immediately sensed the context from that one question.
[He came to you asking for his phone back?]
Chu Cheng replied honestly with a simple: “Yeah.”
Yu Siting’s response was unsurprising:
[Don’t worry about it. Just pin it on me. I’ll talk to his parents later.]
Recalling what had just happened and what the other teachers had said, Chu Cheng knew that a kid with Bai Xiaolong’s temperament wasn’t going to be easy to handle.
After a bit of deliberation, he tested the waters.
[Why don’t you let me handle this one?]
There was a brief pause, and then the typing indicator lit up on the other end of the chat.
[Sure—if you’ve got a plan.]
After evening self-study ended, Chu Cheng was the only one left in the office.
Knock knock—
Two half-hearted knocks sounded before the class monitor walked in.
“Mr. Chu, you asked to see me?” Bai Xiaolong had obediently shown up again, but his face clearly said, ‘I’m in a bad mood and I don’t want to hear anything you say.’
Chu Cheng wasn’t fazed by the teenager’s attitude and kept his usual calm demeanor. “I heard you’ve been boosting Honor of Kings accounts for money?”
Bai Xiaolong raised an eyebrow, clearly thinking someone had snitched. He didn’t reply, just clasped his hands behind his back and stood still, ready to be lectured.
“Feeling shy about it?” Chu Cheng chuckled. “How much do you charge?”
The student clearly hadn’t expected that question and looked surprised. “You’re not gonna ask to hire me next, are you?”
Chu Cheng neither confirmed nor denied it. Leaning casually against the desk, he replied with a hint of amusement, “Send me your ID—let me see how good you really are.”
Bai Xiaolong clicked his tongue and reluctantly mumbled a livestream account name.
Chu Cheng looked it up, skimmed through it, then glanced back at the student. “What’s the highest rank you can boost someone to?”
Talk of gaming clearly piqued Bai Xiaolong’s interest. His reply came quickly. “Up to 55 stars. I haven’t tried beyond that. If I can’t guarantee it, I don’t take the order.”
“Not bad. At least you have some professional ethics,” Chu Cheng said with a light smile, meeting his eyes. It wasn’t hard to spot the pride written all over Bai Xiaolong’s face. Chu made a quick decision. “Then boost my account to 40 stars.”
Bai Xiaolong looked offended. “Are you doubting my ability?”
“Not at all. My account is just at 40 stars right now. There’s still about two weeks left in the season—getting to 55 shouldn’t be a problem, right?” Chu’s explanation was calm and sounded completely genuine.
“Won’t even take that long,” Bai Xiaolong said without hesitation.
“I’m not in a rush,” Chu replied, not disputing the student’s confidence. “You can take your time. Use any hero, any playstyle. I’ve only got one rule: no matter what subject the class is, you’re not allowed to do it during school hours.”
At this point, Bai Xiaolong’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. A realization seemed to hit him. “You’re not messing with me, are you? Does the big guy know about this?”
Chu Cheng pulled open a drawer and took out a phone, twirling it in his palm as he spoke slowly: “Told you at the beginning of the semester—he doesn’t interfere with what I do.”
When Bai Xiaolong saw the phone he thought he’d lost, his disbelief deepened. “You’re just giving it back to me like that?”
“Because even if I didn’t, you’d probably get a new one soon anyway. Ever heard the saying? If you can’t beat them, join them. Add me on WeChat—we’ll talk later.”
Chu Cheng smiled with narrowed eyes, looking genuinely friendly. He waved his hand, signaling that there was nothing more to discuss, and gently reminded, “Close the door quietly on your way out.”
Bai Xiaolong left the office looking dazed, a mixture of confusion and disbelief still on his face.
Chu Cheng, on the other hand, couldn’t hide his smile as he watched the student leave. Only then did he turn to look at the ink-like night sky outside the window, gather his things, and head home.
Since arriving in Tingzhou, Chu Cheng had spent all his time from morning to night at the school, never finding a chance to explore the city that was now his to stay in.
Coincidentally, it had rained heavily the night before, and the air outside was clean and cool. He walked out of the school into soft neon lights lining the streets and took a leisurely stroll home.
Just halfway through the walk, his phone buzzed with an impatient message.
[Bai Xiaolong: Last time I’m asking—are you really serious?]
Chu Cheng tutted lightly and typed a reply:
[Paranoid much? What exactly do you think I’d gain by lying to you?]
[Aren’t teachers supposed to make education their calling?]
The student’s tone carried a hint of self-righteousness, but Chu Cheng’s reply left him with nothing to say.
[You think I make any real money doing this? I still have to rack my brains for my students after work.]
[……]
[So when are you logging in?]
[Scan the code, duh.]
Soon, Chu Cheng received a notification that the game account had logged in successfully.
A while later, Bai Xiaolong sent another message.
[Your account has such a nice win rate. Doesn’t look like someone who’s stuck.]
As a top-lane newbie, Chu Cheng was never that obsessed with maintaining his teacherly image. After work hours, he let loose completely and casually made something up.
[That’s all from the last booster. He quit after getting glaucoma.]
The student on the other end sent a series of ellipses in response, clearly at a loss for words.
“[……]”
[Alright, I’ll start playing now.]
Chu Cheng replied with a single “Mhm.”
The next second, he swiped down, switched away from the chat, and sent a voice message to his roommate.
“Have you played Honor of Kings recently?”
[Nope.]
The sudden question left Xu Chuan confused.
[Didn’t you say the game got boring? None of us could make a full 5-stack so we just dropped it. Why, is Teacher Chu planning to blow off some work stress in mobile games again?]
Chu Cheng had long become immune to Chuan-ge’s constant professional teasing. He ignored the sarcasm and replied out of nowhere, “Dr. Xu, didn’t you run away from home in high school and join a KPL youth training camp?”
(The KPL Youth Training Camp is an intensive program designed to identify and nurture young talent in Honor of Kings.)
[Huh?! Why are you suddenly digging up my dark past? I’m telling you those stories…]
Chu Cheng automatically tuned out the long-winded explanation and smoothly changed the subject: “Find me a few hundred-star players and form a team to snipe a streamer. That shouldn’t be hard for you, right?”
As expected, Xu Chuan was distracted and stopped complaining.
[If we queue while watching his livestream, we’ll definitely match into his game. But this kind of thing’s bad karma. Not sure I should do it.]
“Bad karma for what? He’s playing on my account.” Chu Cheng chuckled, bringing the phone closer to his lips and enunciating slowly, “Besides, you never had any of that to begin with.”
Xu Chuan cursed with a laugh, then finally agreed to try finding a few players.
After reading the last message, Chu Cheng tucked his phone away and continued to enjoy the night breeze accompanying him on his walk.
Evening exercise was supposed to help him sleep. Chu Cheng deliberately took the stairs home, worked up a light sweat, then took a warm shower before collapsing straight onto his bed.
In the early morning hours—who knew what time—Chu Cheng woke up in the dark. The night sky, like brocade, hung behind the curtains.
Another failed attempt at going to bed early.
He groped around for his phone in the darkness and saw a message from Chuan-ge on WeChat. Squinting with one eye, he read it.
[Where’d you find this poor soul? They’re awful. This is the first time I’ve had such an easy game playing against your account.]
The sharp roast was followed by several screenshots. Just earlier, the person logged into his account had suffered a series of crushing defeats—utter mismatches.
Even half-asleep, Chu Cheng could see the terrible match records and quickly typed out a reminder.
[Don’t go too hard. Just make sure he can’t climb, that’s enough.]
He then switched over to the chat with the student and, with a clear conscience, showed concern.
[If you need certain heroes or runes, just let me know. I only care about efficiency.]
It was already deep into the night. Bai Xiaolong still hadn’t gone to bed, but his reply was clearly lacking in enthusiasm—a single “Mhm.”
His irritation was practically oozing out of the screen.
Chu Cheng, remembering how he himself had been addicted to online games at that age, felt both amused and sympathetic.
Kicking a gaming habit is painful, huh.
Author’s note:
Yu · Five years in the workplace, steady as a rock · Si Ting: I too have suffered a Waterloo in my teaching career. How should I tactfully persuade the vice-homeroom teacher not to be too reckless?
One second ago: So heartwarming—my little goose is growing up, finally helping big bro carry the load.
The next second: Wait a minute… something’s off with this approach. I might need to discipline both of them.