On Friday morning, the second-year division of the high school held their bi-monthly homeroom teacher meeting. As the assistant homeroom teacher, Chu Cheng attended alongside Yu Si Ting.

    After the meeting, the two walked out together and headed back to the office.

    In the corridor on the fifth floor, Bai Xiaolong was leaning by a window, waiting. When he saw them coming, he called out “Big bro!” and walked right past Yu Si Ting, looking toward the one behind him.

    Chu Cheng vaguely sensed his intention and took the initiative to speak: “Looking for me?”

    “Yeah.” Bai Xiaolong nodded, but then glanced hesitantly in Yu Siting’s direction.

    Yu siting just cast a sidelong glance at his dawdling figure, then took the initiative to walk away with long strides.

    Only then did Bai Xiaolong step forward and call out, “Mr. Chu.”

    “What’s up?” Chu Cheng looked relaxed on the surface, but in fact was carefully watching the student’s expression.

    The student’s hunched posture and lowered head gave off a weary vibe. He had clearly been knocked down a notch, and his tone was slightly tentative: “Did you log into the account yesterday?”

    “Nope. Weren’t you the one playing?” Chu Cheng replied casually as he walked into the Chinese Department office and took a seat.

    Realizing that the embarrassing match records hadn’t been seen by the account owner, Bai Xiaolong seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. But after a moment’s hesitation, he admitted—albeit a bit tactfully: “Oh, I wasn’t in great shape last night.”

    Chu Cheng responded kindly: “No worries. Wins and losses are part of the game.”

    “I don’t know why, but playing on your account feels really off.” The student sounded frustrated—so much so that it seemed borderline superstitious. His tone gradually weakened, and he added, “Also… I’ve got a lot of orders to handle lately.”

    He was trying to back out.

    Of course, Chu Cheng wouldn’t let him. He cut him off with a question: “How many stars did you drop to?”

    “Ah…” Bai Xiaolong was momentarily stunned, then quickly responded, “I’m at about thirty-four or thirty-five stars now?”

    “If you don’t want to keep playing, that’s fine.” Chu Cheng replied nonchalantly, using retreat as a way to advance. “But at the very least, you should restore my original rank, right? Otherwise, it wouldn’t really count as a reputable boosting job—it wouldn’t sound good if word got out.”

    The student cared about his reputation, so he nodded reluctantly, unable to bring himself to argue further.

    Buzz. Chu Cheng’s phone received a text message—it was a package pickup notice.

    Because he had recently moved and needed to buy a lot for work, he’d been quite strapped for cash. He even ate all his meals at the school cafeteria and hadn’t ordered anything online in a while, so he couldn’t think of what this might be.

    Chu Cheng stared at his phone for a while. When he looked up again, he noticed Bai Xiaolong was still standing there and asked with a hint of confusion, “Anything else?”

    Seeing that Chu Cheng seemed absent-minded the whole time, the student hesitated, then said, “No, that’s it. I’ll let you get back to work.”

    Watching the student walk away with heavy steps, Chu Cheng couldn’t help but chuckle internally.

    Teenage boys—what they need most is encouragement.

    It wasn’t until the break before lunch that Chu Cheng finally had time to go to the gatekeeper’s office.

    The package turned out to be unexpectedly large. A square cardboard box containing half-assembled bicycle frame parts—the very model Chu Cheng had been eyeing for a long time.

    Inside the box was a letter: A gift for Chu Cheng. It was signed by his uncle.

    Only then did Chu Cheng remember that his uncle had mentioned wanting to give him a gift to celebrate his new job. He just hadn’t expected it to come so suddenly—or be so perfect.

    Delighted, Chu Cheng moved the box to the faculty bike garage behind the building, planning to use the free time to assemble it.

    The school bell rang twice, but Chu Cheng paid no attention. He had already finished his one and only KPI for the day—so slacking off a bit didn’t matter.

    “From far away, I thought it was you. What are you doing?” A familiar voice called out as Lu Yan strolled over from the side of the teaching building. Seeing the small area covered with parts, he let out a surprised sound. “Oh~”

    He crouched beside Chu Cheng and picked up one of the pieces, holding it up to the light and examining it. “Carbon fiber, huh?”

    “Mm. You know about this stuff?” Chu Cheng replied while busy sorting tools by size with practiced hands.

    Lu Yan examined the parts carefully. “These are pretty rare models, right? Just the top-tier Look handlebars alone go for twenty or thirty grand. Did you hit the jackpot?”

    “Come on, it’s obviously a fake knockoff.” Chu Cheng quickly responded, tapping the carbon tube closest to his foot. “Besides, where would I get the money? Haven’t you heard of the working class’s motto? Die ten thousand times from frustration every day, but still don’t quit.”

    “Ha.” Lu Yan chuckled at his words.

    “I thought this period was P.E. Why are you wandering around? Wrench.” Chu Cheng stretched out his hand mid-question.

    Lu Yan handed over the tool and explained, “The P.E. teacher had something to do and didn’t even show up. The class rep wanted to ditch responsibility too, so he made us jog a lap to warm up and then dismissed us.”

    Hearing the words “PE Committee,” Chu Cheng perked up with interest and mischievously egged on the student, “As a class officer, Bai Xiaolong’s sense of service is really lacking. Why don’t you go see what he’s up to?”

    To his surprise, Lu Yan replied swiftly, “Already did. He’s holding this notebook packed with scribbles, writing and sketching away like he’s possessed. I thought he’d gone overboard with studying or something.”

    “Oh?” Chu Cheng raised an eyebrow, curious.

    Lu Yan continued, “But when I looked, the whole notebook was filled with stuff like ‘Unstoppable,’ ‘Gongsun Li’s third skill does 500 damage plus 80% physical attack…’”

    The unexpected answer made Mr. Chu burst into laughter. He lost his grip on the small part in his hand, and it clattered to the floor.

    “Is it really that funny?” Lu Yan paused, confused.

    Chu Cheng smiled and waved it off. “Nah, just pricked my hand.”

    “Then why are you so happy? Your sense of humor’s weird,” Lu Yan remarked casually. Then he suddenly looked up and noticed the large, reflective glass panels on the school building. “Whoa, that one’s facing the science office. Can’t hang around here with you—too visible. If my uncle sees me, he’ll drag me upstairs to do practice problems. I’m out.”

    Chu Cheng replied with a simple “Mm,” lowered his head, and quietly got back to work on his own.

    A while later, the bicycle was finally assembled. The silver-black-white color scheme gleamed under the sun—just the right balance between cool and understated.

    Chu Cheng was very pleased. Not caring about his grease-covered hands, he pulled out his phone, took a picture, and sent it to his uncle to express his thanks.

    Half a minute later, a voice call notification popped up on WeChat.

    “You got the gift?” A deep, rich voice came through the speaker.

    Chu Cheng replied, “I already put it together.”

    “So? You like it?”

    “The bike is great,” Chu Cheng stood up and walked a circle around it. “But as a freshly hired middle school teacher, riding this to work seems a bit too flashy.”

    “It’s just a bike, not even expensive.”

    That offhand comment from his uncle left Chu Cheng feeling a bit bitter and helpless.

    Not expensive—for someone with my current salary, it’s basically a few years’ worth of income.

    Hearing him go silent, his uncle cleared his throat and added, “Actually, I did consider that. I picked the most low-profile paint job. Unless someone’s really into this stuff, no one’s gonna pay attention to what bike you’re riding. People are too busy looking at imported sports cars on the street.”

    Chu Cheng sighed and admitted, “One of my students just recognized it right away.”

    There was a pause on the other end, then his uncle said, “So I underestimated your school? Want me to get you a different commuter vehicle? You could drive to work, get some extra sleep in the morning.”

    “No, don’t. Then my mom’s going to say you’re spoiling me again. Plus, with my current salary, I can’t even afford gas.” Chu Cheng quickly shut that idea down, drawing out the last few words with exaggerated emphasis.

    His uncle laughed on the other end. “Now you realize how rough it is? Remember back when you graduated and said you wanted to open your own household registration?”

    Chu Cheng quickly corrected, “I said I wanted to be independent—not literally open a household registration.”

    “It’s all the same,” his uncle mimicked Chu Cheng’s earlier tone. “With your current income, if you really want to achieve your goals in this lifetime, you’ll probably have to marry into a wealthy family. If you ask me, you’d better just come home obediently…”

    Who wants to marry into a rich family?!

    Chu Cheng knew his uncle was about to launch into another lecture about how rebellious he was, so he quickly found an excuse to escape.
    “What? …Mr. Sun? Oh, you need something? Okay, just a moment. Uncle, I’ve got work now, can’t talk anymore—bye!”

    He rambled off an excuse and didn’t give the other side a chance to respond before reaching for the hang-up button.

    “Chu Cheng, don’t you dare—”

    Beep—
    Only a few final digits came through before the call was forcibly ended.

    Chu Cheng secretly rejoiced at his fast reflexes. In that moment of distraction, he realized that this scolding-about-his-nephew scene felt strangely familiar, and a thought popped into his head:

    Are all uncles just naturally this nosy?


    On alternate weekends, there were no self-study sessions. To accommodate boarding students heading home, the school released everyone two hours earlier on Friday afternoons.

    For once, Yu Siting wasn’t tied up with trivial matters and managed to leave the academic building on time with Lu Yan.

    It was still bright outside, and he immediately noticed a new, sleek-looking road bike parked in the staff lot.

    “That’s Mr. Chu’s,” Lu Yan, noticing where he was looking, spoke up first. “I think it’s almost identical to the one you rode during the lake circuit race, but he insists it’s just a replica, nothing expensive.”

    While Lu Yan spoke, Yu Siting gave the bike a few more glances. As they passed by, he casually curled his index finger and tapped twice on the carbon frame.

    The touch was both light and firm.

    Lu Yan pressed further, “So, you think it’s not a knockoff either, right?”

    Yu Siting got into the driver’s seat, his voice and expression calm. “If he says it is, then it is.”

    Lu Yan let the matter drop, opened the passenger side door, and was just about to close his eyes for a nap when he heard his uncle still lingering on the topic.

    “When did you see him riding it?”

    “During PE class—he didn’t ride it, just assembled it,” Lu Yan recounted what had happened.

    Yu Siting listened quietly, then frowned. “Bai Xiaolong spent the whole class reading game guides?”

    “You heard all that, and that’s what you picked up on?” Lu Yan’s eyelids flew open in disbelief.

    Was this the difference in thinking between teachers and students? The focus of both people somehow aligned in the weirdest way.

    Yu Siting seemed deep in thought, didn’t respond to the rest, and started the engine while saying:
    “Keep an eye on him for me for a while.”

    “You already handed this matter over to Mr. Chu, didn’t you? So why are you casually planting your own spy?” Class Monitor Lu complained, muttering in displeasure. “I’ve still got a pile of worksheets from you to get through. I don’t have time for this!”

    Yu Siting pressed his lips together slightly and cast him a sidelong glance. “Since you love studying so much, I guess you don’t want to go swimming this weekend?”

    Lu Yan, caught off guard by the counterattack, protested furiously, “You already promised me! You can’t go back on your word! Mr. Chu always keeps his word!”

    “Anything else you’re holding in?” Yu Siting’s tone was still rather patient at this point.

    “Mr. Chu is already really nice,” Lu Yan swallowed hard. “He bikes, you drive. He rents a place, you own two floors. He worries about your students just to earn an extra 800 yuan as a class assistant, and he still has to put up with your attitude. You’re both teachers—don’t you feel the slightest bit guilty about how uneven society’s resources are?”

    Yu Siting’s lips remained tight as he smoothly turned the steering wheel, his voice still slow and calm: “Yuncheng Garden isn’t far from Fantian View.”

    Lu Yan blinked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

    Yu Siting went on, “Starting tomorrow, don’t ride in my car anymore. Hanging on the back of Mr. Chu’s bike will get you home just fine.”


    Author’s note:

    Yu Siting: With how much your words are soaked in ‘Chu’ energy, did I feed you too well?

    Chu Cheng: Why’d you go and provoke him? Next time I’ll hitch a ride with him, how are you getting home?

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