DCTMOAS Chapter 82

The next few days of the holiday passed without much fanfare. Chu Cheng and Mr. Yu stayed home, enjoying a quiet break together.

Maybe it was out of respect for the younger generation’s lives and work, or maybe both sets of “inspection squads” were simply exhausted from all the back-and-forth and needed a break to plan their next ambush—but either way, both sides fell silent in a rare moment of mutual peace.

After the National Day break ended, No. 10 High School kicked off its annual school anniversary sports meet.

As usual, the computer science and PE departments went on a recruitment spree, stationing themselves outside the English and Chinese offices every day to poach “external talent.”

After being last year’s shining star (and consequently regretting it), Chu Cheng now avoided appearing too openly. More often than not, he holed up in Mr. Yu’s office, pretending to be invisible.

The math department, having comfortably claimed last place for years, had pretty much given up and now fully embraced its role as the designated dead weight.

This sports meet was the last major school-wide event that the senior students could participate in before diving into their intense college entrance exam prep. Treated like a pre-exam carnival, Yu Siting granted his students near-total freedom to enjoy themselves.

Chu Cheng had also learned to let go—no longer fussing over every detail. He trusted the kids to handle things on their own now.

On the night before the event, during dinner hour, he casually pushed open the door to the math department and flopped straight into Yu Siting’s chair with a sigh. “Thanks to your bad influence, I’ve only been working a year and already lost all passion.”

Yu Siting was organizing first-round review materials at the file rack. He turned around and wiggled his fingers: “Mr. Chu, don’t blame others for your own choices. Even before you knew me, you were already dreaming of early retirement.”

Chu Cheng slumped further, dead weight in the chair. “I don’t care.”

“So what you’re really saying… is that being with me has made your life less exciting?” Yu Siting walked over with a sly tone in his voice. “That’s funny—you didn’t seem to think so last night.”

Oh, here we go again.

“Shut up!” Chu Cheng swatted at him in a random flurry, trying to stop the old rogue before he launched into another round of scandalous flirting.

“Come on, don’t be like that. I’m in my own office—am I not allowed to enjoy freedom of speech?” Yu Siting laughed as he dodged the attacks, cheekily reminding Mr. Chu that he was, technically, just a visitor here.

Knock knock—

The door to the math office was knocked twice.

Chu Cheng immediately stopped his workplace beatdown antics and sat up straight in the chair like a law-abiding citizen.

Yu Siting said, “Come in.”

The door opened to reveal Class 7 student Xue Le, holding two bags in her hands.

She was the only girl at No. 10 High who practiced martial arts and had just returned to school with the second batch of athletic-specialty students.

Her skin, already naturally tanned, had darkened further from training under the sun and wind.

“Big Bro, Mr. Chu,” she greeted. Seeing the vice homeroom teacher there too, she hesitated a little. Xue Le had a reserved personality and hadn’t interacted much with Chu Cheng before, especially after being away from Class 7 for so long.

“What’s up?” Yu Siting asked first.

Only then did she speak: “Big Bro, I recently participated in the provincial martial arts team tryouts and was exceptionally admitted. I’ve been granted a full tuition waiver.”

“That’s wonderful.” Yu Siting knew this child had always been hardworking and grounded, and he was sincerely happy for her.

“But… the original financial aid is still being deposited into my account regularly.” Xue Le pulled a brown envelope from her sports jacket pocket and placed it on Mr. Yu’s desk. Taking a quiet breath, she continued, “I came here specifically to return the money. Thank you, Big Bro.”

This kid… really is pure to the bone.

Chu Cheng, elbow on the desk and cheek in hand, arched a brow but said nothing.

Yu Siting met her clear, sincere gaze and responded evenly, “It’s school-issued financial aid. Why return it to me?”

Xue Le didn’t call him out—she just smiled, revealing a row of white teeth in stark contrast to her tanned face. “Then please help me return it to the school.”

Even if the matter of “subsidized students” wasn’t public knowledge, she’d talked with Zhang Xi. How could she not know?

Both girls had received the money in exactly the same manner as any other financial aid student. But one of them, she was sure, had been fully sponsored by Big Bro himself.

At their age, there weren’t many ways to express gratitude. So the only thing they could do… was keep working hard and live up to the expectations placed on them.

Then Xue Le lifted the bags in her hand. “This is our new class uniform for the sports meet. The class life rep asked me to bring them over for you and Mr. Chu.”

Inside the bag were two brand-new hooded sweatshirts, custom-printed as usual.

This year, Chu Cheng’s name had finally been added to the class emblem.

On the front and back of the hoodies were cartoon versions of him and Yu Siting. The small illustrations captured their features and expressions perfectly—vivid and full of personality.

Xue Le explained that Zhang Xi had drawn them herself. She was off-campus at an art training camp and couldn’t return in time, but she didn’t want to miss out on her class’s group activity.

Chu Cheng held the sweatshirt up to examine it closely. “I really like this,” he said sincerely.

After the student left, the two “old dads” shared a smile over the envelope left on the desk.

If they didn’t talk about it, they might almost forget they were practically paying to come to work every day—but honestly, nothing brought them more joy than seeing the kids succeed.

Chu Cheng held the hoodie up against himself—the size was just right. He looked over and tested the waters: “It’s pretty cute. You gonna wear it?”

Yu Siting: “…”

Before he could answer, Chu Cheng had already yanked it over his head and started snapping photos.

“I said I’m not wearing it.”

“C’mon, the kids drew it themselves. Don’t be so heartless.”

“You’re pulling out my hair—stop messing around. Go eat.”

“Come on, Big Bro~ Just once won’t hurt. A little OOC is fine once in a while!”

—

The first day of the sports meet arrived.

Early in the morning, Class 7’s homeroom and vice homeroom teachers appeared near the grandstands.

Even though Yu Siting had been forcibly photographed the night before—dozens of pictures taken under threat and not even allowed to blink—he still showed up looking sharp in his neatly pressed shirt when facing the students.

“See? I told you Mr. Chu would wear the class hoodie but Big Bro wouldn’t! Pay up, pay up!” A student bounced up from the bleachers, gloating.

Chu Cheng handed out the breakfast Yu Siting had bought, sipping warm soy milk and laughing indulgently. “Are you guys crazy? You’re gambling over what Big Bro wears right in front of him?”

Han Rui tilted her head back and clarified, “It’s Monopoly money, okay? They’ve been playing it all morning.”

Another girl, clearly fed up, joked while reporting to the vice homeroom teacher: “Mr. Chu, you’ve gotta do something. These people will bet on anything! Just now they were even guessing if Ms. Shen’s baby is a boy or a girl.”

“…Huh?” Chu Cheng almost spat out his soy milk, chuckling. “Isn’t that a bit… early for a bet? Her baby’s only a few months along!”

“Well, her belly’s pointy. That means it’s a boy for sure!”

“Bullcrap! Even she doesn’t know yet!”

“Her due date’s supposed to be next summer, right? That makes it a generational battle. I’m betting on a girl!”

Listening to his students argue with such certainty, Mr. Chu was left wide-eyed and speechless.

Seriously?

These kids really knew their stuff—they could actually tell if a belly was pointy or round?

The class was rowdy and full of energy as usual, but something felt off—some familiar troublemakers were suspiciously absent.

Chu Cheng scanned the area. “Where’s Bai Xiaolong and the gang? Lu Yan’s not here either.”

Li Sheng, still focused on his Monopoly game, replied casually, “They’ve got an event coming up. Probably over there warming up.”

Following the direction he pointed, Chu Cheng finally spotted Lu Yan, Ying He, Jiang Zhibo, Bai Xiaolong, and Mu Yiyang—together—with students from the neighboring class. For a second, he thought he was hallucinating.

They were practicing one of the more entertaining events of the sports meet: “Unfallen Forest.”

The rules were simple: a group stands in a circle, each person holding a stick vertically on the ground. On cue, everyone shifts positions while keeping the sticks upright—testing concentration, speed, and coordination.

After multiple failed attempts, Jiang Zhibo scratched his head and suggested, “Nope. We need to sort ourselves by height or something. My legs are too long—you guys can’t keep up when I move.”

Mu Yiyang looked like his forehead was about to sprout eight wrinkles. “Have some shame, man.”

“Then how tall are you, exactly?”

“I really don’t know—haven’t measured in ages. But just by looking, you and I are about the same, right?”

The two of them kept bickering. Lu Yan pulled out his phone and opened the built-in measuring tool. After snapping a quick photo of Mu Yiyang, he said flatly, “You’re 159 cm.”

Jiang Zhibo leaned in to check the result and immediately burst out laughing.

Mu Yiyang roared, “To hell with both of you!”

Lu Yan was cracking up. “Hey, that’s what the phone said, I didn’t make it up! And besides, I don’t even have an uncle—just one on my mom’s side. Can we count that?”

The group kept goofing around. Jiang Zhibo swung the stick he was holding and accidentally smacked a teammate on the shoulder with a loud smack.

“Scram!” Ying He shouted with surprising gusto, but didn’t actually seem mad. He just kept his head down, studying the game mechanics.

The rest of the group was still laughing and playing.

Chu Cheng stood by, watching them for a long moment, when something Yu Siting had once said drifted into his mind.

“Boys at this age have weird friendships—they complain about each other constantly, but still cling together.”

Just then, he noticed Bai Xiaolong sitting by himself off to the side, completely focused on the tablet on his knees.

Curious, Chu Cheng walked over. The boy quickly locked the screen, hiding whatever he was looking at.

“You relapse into your internet addiction again?” Chu Cheng asked, towering over him.

Bai Xiaolong waved him off. “Nope, nothing like that. But this is… kind of a secret for now.”

Secretive, huh?

Chu Cheng wanted to press further, but from behind, Ji Yanan’s voice rang out—calling everyone to come take a class photo.

“Coming!” Bai Xiaolong jumped up, clutching his tablet, and used the moment to change the subject.

---

It rained a little almost every year during the sports meet.

But tonight’s downpour was heavier than usual. The school had no choice but to postpone the evening’s talent show and send everyone back inside to take shelter in the academic building.

Even though the weather didn’t cooperate, the cheerful energy didn’t fade one bit. Restless in their classrooms, each class started their own mini celebrations.

Class 7’s top students, each with wildly different personalities, turned out to be full of hidden talents. Besides the usual high-energy attention-seekers, every kid had something up their sleeve.

The messy-haired physics genius sang a sweet ballad from an idol drama.

Quiet and reserved Xue Le pulled off a full sequence of flowing acrobatic flips.

Even the usually aloof Ying He broke out a street dance routine that had the girls screaming in support.

The performances were dazzling and nonstop. Chu Cheng clapped so much that his hands went numb, turning into a one-man cheer machine with feelings.

Every student took a turn on stage. Who knew how many acts had gone by?

Toward the end of the celebration, Chu Cheng noticed Bai Xiaolong—who had been helping coordinate everything from the edge of the platform—and asked, “What’s your talent, then?”

The knowing crowd behind him chimed in before he could answer.

“Oh, his talent’s something else.”

“Our class rep came prepared.”

“Time for the tech guy to shine!”

As the classroom buzzed with excitement, someone suddenly switched off the lights. The multimedia screen flickered to life, playing a homemade video.

A full ten minutes of footage—entirely about Class 7’s shared journey.

Every student had contributed photos collected since the second year’s subject stream division: tears, laughter, warmth, and fiery determination.

The video ended with a freeze-frame of the group photo taken that very morning. Even Zhang Xi, who’d been absent, had been photoshopped seamlessly into the shot.

While Chu Cheng was marveling at the sheer spirit of “class soul,” he couldn’t help but be slightly amazed—how could a teenage boy be so meticulous and thoughtful?

Sure enough, the final credits rolled: under the “Tech Team” section, only one name was listed—Bai Xiaolong. Beneath it, two tiny footnotes appeared:

[Edited by: Xu Wanwan]
[Material from: Lu Yan]

Chu Cheng hadn’t even processed what “risked” might mean when the screen suddenly went black.

Things were far from over—the video’s progress bar was still rolling.

A new segment played: a trending online meme comparing teachers before and after taking up the profession, where everyone visibly looked ten years older in just one.

The exaggerated contrast and meme format sent the entire class into uncontrollable laughter.

Then the screen flashed bold white text across black:

But our Class 7 teachers—
Only got hotter with time.

Cue battle music. A deluge of ultra-flattering, carefully curated glamour shots of Chu Cheng and Yu Siting burst onto the screen, perfectly synced to the beat, delivering a wave of visual whiplash.

The captions kept coming—each phrase paired with enough photographic evidence to back it up with ridiculous conviction:

---

They are…
Unmatched in elegance.

Chu Cheng playing piano during last year’s talent show.jpg
Slaying the award ceremony in a god-tier school outfit.jpg
Copying notes with a long-legged lunge during the school field trip.jpg

They are…
Cool as hell.

Yu Siting gripping the off-road steering wheel one-handed.jpg
Wearing a full suit at a parent meeting like a CEO.jpg
Calculating math finals with death-ray intensity in his eyes.jpg

They are…
Unstoppable legends.

Nine straight exams—Yu Siting ranked #1 in math.jpg
Chu Cheng hitting 101 stars in the mobile game season.jpg
Both ranking top in the “Most Popular Teachers” section of the school app.jpg

They are…
The ones who burn the midnight oil.

Three empty coffee cups stacked on Chu Cheng’s desk during morning study.jpg
Yu Siting losing his voice while teaching, writing silently with a mug of barley tea in hand.jpg
Both passed out on the office couch after staying up late analyzing student scores.jpg

---

At the back of the classroom, Chu Cheng and Yu Siting stood shoulder to shoulder, quietly watching those flashing memories—a whole year’s journey distilled into frames.

To say they weren’t moved would be a lie.

This job? You wouldn’t understand it unless you’d lived it. Just when you’re about to snap from exhaustion or frustration, something like this pulls you back—softly, powerfully.

If passion still lived in them, it wasn’t from anywhere external. It came from within—from the unshakable love and commitment buried in the heart.

Chu Cheng took a breath, clapped his hands once, and broke the moment with a smirk:

“Alright then—who hasn’t done their talent show act yet?”

As the video ended, a question from Bai Xiaolong drew everyone’s attention straight to the back row.

Chu Cheng: …

Right at that moment, the intercom above them crackled to life:
“The rain outside has stopped. All classes and teachers, please return to the field to continue the performance.”

Yu Siting promptly interrupted,
“Alright, that’s enough fun. Put on your jackets, grab your stools, and head out to watch the show.”

The classroom went silent for two seconds.

Then someone—no one knew who—suddenly yelled,
“Come on, are a few more minutes really going to kill you?”

“Nope!” the class responded in unison.

“I love everything about our class. What could be better than what we just saw?”

“We’ve put our all into this, just for a single smile from you two. You’ve been enjoying our talents for half the afternoon—what, you thought you could just freeload?”

The students surged forward, surrounding the class teacher and assistant teacher in a tight circle.

Yu Siting tilted his head and gave a sidelong glance:
See that? This is your doing. Spoiled them rotten.

Chu Cheng silently retorted with a look:
Your students were already bold and talented to begin with—how is that my fault?

The students started chanting again,
“You two have to put on at least one performance! We won’t accept anything less!”

“At least let me discuss it with my big brother, alright?”
Chu Cheng played along smoothly, pulling Yu over to the side and whispering with mock sincerity,
“You wanna perform for them?”

“No.”
Yu Siting’s answer came without hesitation.

The last time at a teachers’ gathering, they had to crowdfund a thousand yuan just to get him to sing one song. And that had been a special serenade for Chu Cheng. Like hell he was going to do it for free for this rowdy bunch.

“Then… why are you still standing here?”
The next second, Chu Cheng swiftly grabbed Yu’s sleeve and bolted out the back of the classroom with him in tow.

“Hey! You tricked us!”

“That was a textbook bait-and-switch!”

“I spent nights editing that video, and you two just walk out like that?”

“They can run, but they can’t hide.”

“…”

The kids chased after them, laughing and shouting.

As for the two teachers who had slipped out, they didn’t give a damn what their students were yelling behind them. They had already blended into the crowd of other classes on the floor.

Through the corridor windows, the lights outside sparkled brilliantly. The performance stage was being prepared in full swing. It was that same familiar scene, the familiar opening act by the PE department.

Chu Cheng and Yu Siting paused in their steps, exchanging a look and a smile—completely in sync.

All 365 days of the year formed a loop; the things we must go through repeated again and again.

Each time we step back to the starting line, the days themselves may not change—but they always carry new hope.

All they had to do, was look forward.

—End of Main Story—