DCTMOAS Chapter 19

[Yu Siting: Two teachers still haven’t submitted their monthly test result summary sheets. Please take time to send them in.]

This was the last message in the Grade 11, Class 7 subject teacher group chat after the exam results were released.

Chu Cheng opened his private chat with Yu Siting and sent him a link.

[Yu Siting: Received.]

Chu Cheng hesitated for a moment before typing:

[Teacher Yu, is there… anything else?]

He couldn’t even remember how many times he had tentatively tried to probe his big bro like this.

Yu Siting paused for a bit, then replied:

[In such a rush to settle accounts?]

Chu Cheng was stunned, realizing the other had misunderstood. Just as he was about to clarify, another message came through.

[Yu Siting: Seems like the bike ride didn’t go too pleasantly.]

Chu Cheng quickly responded:

[No, that’s not it.]

[I just wanted to ask—regarding the monthly test scores—do we need to discuss anything?]

[Yu Siting: That’s not urgent. Let’s just have a quick meeting after school starts.]

“Not urgent—let’s talk after school starts.”

So there is something to talk about!

That one short sentence was enough to slap a mask of misery right onto Chu Cheng’s face. He recalled the scene on his very first day—getting critiqued right there in the academic office. Back then, he had essentially made a public pledge in front of the leadership.

If I can teach these students well, of course Teacher Yu won’t say anything. But if I can’t, then he wasn’t wrong about me.

Thinking about his former arrogance and bold words now, Chu Cheng wanted nothing more than to slap his past self.

What was I thinking?! He was practically walking himself to the chopping block.

What’s he going to say about me?

“See? I told you he wasn’t up to the job. Clearly my judgment was spot on.”

Or maybe something more mocking?

“He’s a newbie. Limited ability. No surprise he can’t teach well.”

Or worse?

“Even the teacher training programs are going downhill. Just look at the kind of people they’re producing now.”

Chu Cheng’s mind spiraled through countless scenarios—none of which his pride could accept.

Frustrated, he stepped out of his room and went to the living room to make some coffee. By chance, he saw Zhou Jin at the kitchen counter making cereal.

Zhou Jin glanced at him. “Morning.”

“Mm.” Chu Cheng responded without energy, then suddenly remembered to ask, “Senior, how did your chemistry students do?”

“Second place.” Zhou Jin spread jam on a slice of bread and took a bite before adding, “Right behind your class.”

Chu Cheng muttered, “That’s pretty good.”

“Yeah, I’m satisfied. After all, Class 7 has strong students to begin with. No matter how hard I try, I can’t make up for a hardware gap.” After speaking about himself, Zhou Jin looked up and asked, “What about you?”

Chu Cheng had no choice but to face reality. “Ninth.”

But Zhou Jin didn’t think it was bad. “That’s still pretty good. Out of 24 classes, ninth is upper-mid tier.”

“Top students from the entire grade—even from the whole district—ended up ranking ninth in Chinese under me. And the worst part is they’re beasts in every other subject. It’s too unfair…” Chu Cheng grumbled while flopping face-down onto the sofa and groaning. “Yu Siting wants to talk to me on Monday. He’s going to tear me apart.”

Zhou Jin looked at the melodramatic junior beside him, and his relaxed breakfast mood instantly vanished.

“Hey hey hey hey hey, is it that serious? It’s just a monthly quiz. And if I remember correctly, Nan Nan once mentioned that Class 7 already had a weak spot in one subject. No student is unbeatable in every subject.”

“You can say that because it’s not your problem. I don’t care what they’re weak in—as long as it’s not Chinese! And even if it is, it can’t be that weak…” Chu Cheng’s voice trailed into a drawn-out whine as he bumped his head against the soft couch, hopeless. “You got second. You’ll never understand me.”

Zhou Jin gave a helpless smile. “Well, listen up then. That second place? Yeah, I taught that class. But I also taught the one that came in twenty-second.”

“…Huh?” Chu Cheng paused his self-destruction, sat up slightly from the fabric sofa, and peeked up at him with raised eyebrows.

Zhou Jin quickly clarified, “Don’t look at me with that weird expression. I swear, I gave both classes the exact same level of care and attention. My conscience is clear. The results just… turned out different, that’s all.”

Chu Cheng frowned. “Why did it turn out like this?”

Zhou Jin continued, “Because there are too many underachieving students dragging the average down. Class 7 should be in a similar situation. That kid named Xie something in the exam room I supervised—he bubbled all Bs for the multiple-choice questions in Chinese, and his essay was titled ‘Maybe the World Isn’t Worth It.’ Even if you add Lu Yan, Han Rui, and Xu Wanwan—three top students from the province—you still wouldn’t be able to carry him.”

Chu Cheng sighed softly. “I understand what you’re saying, but… how am I supposed to face Yu Siting…”

“Even if it’s Teacher Yu,” Zhou Jin said earnestly, “if you made him teach ten different classes, he couldn’t possibly have all of them rank first. He’d have classes placing tenth too—but that doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with his ability.”

As someone who had been through it, Zhou Jin said sincerely, “Besides, Chinese relies so much on talent and innate ability. Don’t get caught up on one or two ranking reports. That’s a workplace trap, Teacher Chu.”

“Anyway, if it’s your fault, just admit it and take the hit,” Chu Cheng muttered. After venting, he got up from the couch, sounding tired. “I’m going to write the grade analysis.”

Zhou Jin looked at his retreating figure, both sympathetic and amused.
“Skipping breakfast again?”

“My stomach feels tight,” Chu Cheng said, waving a hand behind him as he went back to his room to shut himself in.

---

For the remaining three days of the National Day holiday, Chu Cheng buried himself in self-reflection.

He analyzed every student’s exam paper for where they lost points, and faced Monday’s return to work with a sense of dread.

Due to insomnia and exhaustion, he skipped morning self-study supervision and stayed at the Chinese department office, hunched over the desk reviewing his teaching notes.

After morning study, the class rep, Han Rui, came to drop off the homework. Seeing he didn’t look too well, she didn’t say much.

“Big bro,” she muttered as she got to the door—only to bump right into the homeroom teacher, startling her. She blurted out the greeting and quickly darted away.

Yu Siting straightened his shirt, slightly displeased. “Even the class rep is getting careless now?”

Hearing the voice, Chu Cheng stood up. “Who knows what’s up with her. She’s been acting strange since the monthly exam—talks to me like she’s walking on eggshells.”

Yu Siting just glanced at him and didn’t respond.

But Chu Cheng suddenly realized something.

Wait a minute—he said ‘even the class rep’. What does he mean ‘even’? Does that mean I’m careless too?

But Chu Cheng didn’t have the energy to nitpick over word choices right now. Seeing that Yu Siting clearly wasn’t just passing by, he cautiously asked, “Teacher Yu, is there something you need?”

Yu Siting looked at him steadily. “Didn’t I say we need to have a little meeting? Are you free now?”

Chu Cheng had mentally prepared for this, but he still didn’t expect Yu to come straight to the office. Hesitating, he asked in a low voice, “Could we… not do it in the Chinese department?”

“Then let’s go to an empty classroom upstairs,” Yu Siting replied, then turned to leave. At the door, he added, “Bring the grade sheet—I forgot mine.”

“Yo, you guys are already having a main-sub homeroom teacher meeting this early? Class 2.7 is really setting the bar high again.” The language arts homeroom teacher in the same office joked, without any malice.

Chu Cheng followed behind slowly, not in the mood to be happy, managing only a weak smile.

The sixth floor held the school’s small meeting rooms, and all the classrooms along the hallway were unoccupied. Chu Cheng peeked into several rooms before finally spotting Yu Siting sitting at a teacher’s desk.

“Don’t dawdle. I have class later, come on.” His tone was calm and unbothered.

Considering they had gone cycling together just a few days ago, surely the big guy wouldn’t completely flip on him, right?

“The sound insulation in this room should be pretty good.” Chu Cheng took a deep breath, closed the door behind him, and walked straight in.

Go ahead and scold me, just do it.

Yu Siting actually saw a look of “resigned to fate” on his assistant homeroom teacher’s face.

He frowned slightly, and after a moment of thought, seemed to realize why. He couldn’t help but turn his head and let out a quiet chuckle.

“You’re this down so early in the morning because of the grade ranking?” Yu Siting didn’t scold or mock him. His deep, rich voice was actually quite pleasant to hear.

“Isn’t that reason enough to be down?”

Chu Cheng waited a moment, but the classroom remained quiet. He mustered the courage to look at Yu Siting’s expression—only to meet his calm, deep gaze.

Yu Siting said, “But this isn’t your fault.”

“Huh?” Chu Cheng didn’t immediately react.

“I already told you, their foundation in Chinese was weak to begin with. Back in Grade 10, they even went on a boycott for some reason, which further lowered their enthusiasm for the subject. After Teacher You left, their rankings have always been like this. I can’t expect you to instantly reverse such a disadvantage.”

Yu Siting straightened his posture, seriously explaining the situation, then the corners of his lips lifted slightly in a faint smile. “Objectively speaking, the class even improved by one spot, so my mouth has been effectively shut.”

After days of exhausting worry and sleepless nights, all for what turned out to be a false alarm, Chu Cheng felt like his heart couldn’t take it. He tried to calm down and asked, “Then why did you look so serious when you told me to bring the report card?”

“Because I wanted to meet with you for something else,” Yu Siting said, picking up his phone and forwarding a new link to Chu Cheng as he shifted the topic. “There’s going to be a parent-teacher meeting this Wednesday. Aside from summarizing the results of the monthly exam, it’s mainly to announce the enrollment process for art-track students.”

Chu Cheng had heard mention of this during a previous all-staff meeting.

Grade 11 would add four new art-focused classes to the current 24 regular and 2 competition-oriented classes: air service, fine arts, media, and sports.

“Although there will be specialized teachers to answer questions from interested students and parents, the homeroom and assistant homeroom teachers are responsible for coordination. I’ve never handled this kind of work before, so I’ll need your help.”

Chu Cheng nodded. “Got it.”

“Let me go over a few students’ situations. There aren’t many in our class who need an alternative path. The most certain one is Bai Xiaolong, who’s switching to sports. There’s also Jiang Zhibo, who’s still undecided. I’ll talk to him later.”

Yu Siting reviewed the grade sheet Chu Cheng had brought, circling a few names as he continued: “We don’t seem to have any students going into air service. This girl here is currently leaning toward media. As for fine arts…”

Chu Cheng was listening attentively when he suddenly spoke up, “Shouldn’t Zhang Xi be one of them?”

“You know her?”

Zhang Xi was an extremely reserved student. She rarely spoke, and her academic performance wasn’t impressive. Especially in Class 7, where almost everyone was outstanding, she easily faded into the background.

So when she was the first name Chu Cheng mentioned, Yu Siting was a bit surprised.

Chu Cheng nodded. “Zhang Xi is really talented at drawing. Her random doodles on the back of her Chinese notes once amazed me. Later, when she got distracted in class, I called her into the office to talk. I casually asked if she was considering applying through the art track. Back then, the school hadn’t made any announcements, so I didn’t give her a clear answer. Let me take charge of her this time.”

“Mm… Zhang Xi’s case is a bit complicated. You can try communicating with her first. If it becomes difficult, we can handle it together later,” Yu Siting paused while marking names and spoke after some thought.

Chu Cheng looked at him with slight confusion.

“You’ll understand when we hold the parent-teacher meeting,” Yu Siting didn’t elaborate further and moved on to discuss the next student.

With both of them well-prepared and cooperating efficiently, the process went smoothly.

“That’s pretty much it for now. The rest we’ll go over in more detail after the first round of communication.” They quickly went through all the students with potential artistic interests, then packed up their things to head back to work.

Suddenly, Yu Siting noticed a thick stack of handwritten materials under Chu Cheng’s notebook and teasingly asked, “Writing self-reflections already?”

Chu Cheng’s face turned red. “They’re not reflections. They’re analysis reports on weak areas in the test papers…”

Yu Siting could clearly see how much Chu Cheng cared about the recent exam results. He let out a sigh. “When students don’t do well, the teacher does bear some responsibility. But really, you don’t need to feel overly guilty. The root of the problem isn’t on your end.”

Chu Cheng lowered his head and replied, “I know.”

But it was hard not to. Perhaps this was the ‘tender-heartedness of a fledgling teacher’ that everyone talked about.

Yu Siting fell silent for a few seconds. Seeing Chu Cheng still looking downcast, he suddenly suggested, “How about this? After classes today, let’s hold a post-exam accountability meeting. Since you wrote so much, you deserve a chance to read it all out loud.”

Chu Cheng rolled his eyes. “…”

Thanks in advance for your guidance, really.

Yu Siting stood up and walked toward the door, adding as he moved, “And it won’t be just you on the hook. Whenever the students had free time, I always made them focus on math and science and neglected Chinese. That part’s on me too. I’ll start the self-criticism.”

Chu Cheng paused, slightly stunned.

This man spoke with such frankness that, for a moment, Chu Cheng couldn’t tell whether he was trying to comfort him or actually being serious.

Just as the tall figure reached the door, he suddenly turned back. With his naturally superior looks, he curled his lips into a smirk and added, “Just kidding, Teacher Chu. I have five classes today — I’m not that free.”

Author’s note:

Teacher Chu: I know you’re the busiest teacher in the school, and I’m the one with too much time. But don’t pretend you’re not—seriously, stop pretending.