Daydreaming about Me

Chapter 5

Was it because she had expended so much mental energy witnessing that intense and exciting fight? Lin Yujing slept exceptionally well that night, the best sleep she’d had in the three days since arriving.

A dreamless night. When she opened her eyes the next morning, she even felt a bit disoriented, momentarily thinking she was still in her old home.

She blinked and slowly came to her senses as she saw the thick, lace-edged smoky-pink curtains and the creamy white shag carpet.

To be fair, Guan Xiangmei had done an excellent job on the surface. Before Lin Yujing arrived, her room was already prepared, complete with plush toys and several sets of seemingly expensive pajamas. It all seemed very thoughtful.

If Guan Xiangmei had hidden the wariness and aloofness in her eyes better on their first meeting, Lin Yujing might have affectionately called her “Mom” by now.

After rolling around in her blanket for a bit, Lin Yujing got out of bed, took a shower, changed her clothes, and went downstairs to have a suffocating breakfast with Fu Mingxiu.

They didn’t say a word to each other the whole time. When Lin Yujing greeted him with a “good morning,” he didn’t even lift his head, keeping a dark face and not looking at her once.

Lin Yujing: “…”

Why did her brother seem even more upset today than he was yesterday?

Men’s emotions are truly like needles in the bottom of the sea—you never know why they’re suddenly unhappy.

She didn’t bother to figure it out. After breakfast, she went back to her room. As soon as she closed the door, Meng Weiguo called.

Lin Yujing sat cross-legged on the bed, looked out the window, and answered, “Dad.” “It’s me,” Guan Xiangmei’s voice replied with a smile.

Lin Yujing paused, then obediently greeted her.

Guan Xiangmei responded gently, “School starts tomorrow, right?”

“Mm.” Lin Yujing’s gaze fell on the black thing on the desk by the window. She squinted, staring at it for a while.

“I arranged your school already. Mingxiu’s school starts next week, so he’ll take you tomorrow.”

“Mm.”

Oh, it was the rice ball from yesterday. She forgot to eat it.

“Don’t be nervous or scared about starting school.”

“Mm.”

Is this starting school or going to war?

“If anything comes up, just tell Mingxiu. Don’t be shy. His school is close, so he can look after you.”

“…”

Lin Yujing raised her eyebrows, not holding any hope for Fu Mingxiu looking after her.

“Okay, thank you, Auntie,” Lin Yujing said.

Guan Xiangmei gave her a few more instructions before hanging up. Lin Yujing put down her phone, sat on the bed in a daze for a while, and sighed.

For a stepmother, whether genuine or acting, Guan Xiangmei had done well. So far, everything seemed right, without any faults.

Even Lin Zhi never cared so much about her when she started school.

Lin Yujing threw her phone on the bed, got off, walked to the desk, picked up the rice ball, and checked its shelf life—0-5 degrees for three days.

She opened it, took a bite, and the sour taste of spoiled white rice filled her mouth. “…”

It was revolting.

Lin Yujing rushed to the bathroom and spat out the rice ball, rinsing her mouth several times until the taste faded. Looking at the bitten rice ball on the desk, she suddenly felt a bit guilty toward Shen Juan.

Despite Guan Xiangmei saying that Fu Mingxiu would take her to school, Lin Yujing didn’t believe he actually would. Sure enough, when she went downstairs early the next morning, no one was there.

Aunt Zhang was in the dining room. Lin Yujing drank a glass of milk, ate a fried egg, picked up a slice of toast, and headed out. Outside the gate, she saw Old Li standing by the car, looking down at his phone.

Lin Yujing walked over and leaned slightly.

Old Li quickly raised his head, barely having time to retract his smile. He wiped his phone screen on his clothes unconsciously and said hastily, “Good morning, Miss Lin.”

Lin Yujing glanced at his phone screen and saw a bright smile on a young boy’s face. She paused.

She got into the car with the toast in her mouth and mumbled, “Good morning, Uncle Li.”

Lin Yujing’s new school and her new home were in different districts, a normal drive taking about half an hour.

Early September, many schools were starting, and it was rush hour. The traffic was heavy, and it took more than an hour to reach the school gate, stuck in a long line of cars.

She got out and walked the rest of the way, seeing many students in uniforms riding bicycles past the long line of luxury cars, which looked quite foolish.

At the school gate, she first admired the grand entrance of No. 8 High School.

Before Guan Xiangmei’s call yesterday, Lin Yujing hadn’t even asked where she’d be spending the remaining two years of high school. This school looked pretty good.

At least it looked decent from the outside.

Inside the gate was a small square, facing a long row of trees. To the left were several large outdoor basketball courts, and to the right were various buildings, whose functions were unknown.

Lin Yujing walked to the direction sign by the square, then headed straight, spotting what seemed to be the main teaching building.

A four-story concave-shaped building, she stood at the entrance, confused about whether this was for sophomores or where the teacher’s offices were. Just then, she saw a teacher coming out and quickly took a couple of steps forward. “Hello, teacher.”

The teacher, who looked kindly and had a Mediterranean hairstyle, smiled and responded, hurrying out.

Liu Fujiang was the homeroom teacher of Class 10 in the sophomore year. Since taking on this class, he had repeatedly wondered what he did to offend the school administration.

No. 8 High School emphasized science over arts, with ten science classes and six arts classes. The top class was an experimental class, full of award-winning prodigies. The tenth class was also full of notable students.

At over fifty years old, Liu Fujiang taught biology and had never been a homeroom teacher. He couldn’t understand why his first time in this role was with a class of such notable figures.

But he was determined to do his best. Liu Fujiang believed that there were no bad students, only bad teachers. So before the school year began, he spent a week studying “Criminal Psychology,” “Prison Psychology,” and “Being a Competent Prison Guard— Skills for Managing Inmates.”

When he heard a new transfer student was coming, Liu Fujiang was filled with enthusiasm and optimism for the future of education, ready to meet the new student at the school gate.

But just as he left the teaching building, he ran into her.

In the sophomore biology office, Liu Fujiang smiled at her. “Your name is Lin Yujing?” Lin Yujing nodded.

The girl hadn’t received her uniform yet. She wore a white T-shirt and a black skirt, with a neat ponytail. She was a pretty girl and didn’t look like a troublemaker.

Liu Fujiang silently covered the book “Skills for Managing Inmates” with some test papers on his desk.

“Did you come from the capital?”

“Yes,” Lin Yujing nodded.

“From the affiliated school?” Liu Fujiang asked again.

Lin Yujing nodded once more.

Liu Fujiang chuckled, “How’s the affiliated school? It’s not as big as ours, right?” His expression was quite proud, “Our school is huge!”

“…”

Lin Yujing: ?

Lin Yujing nodded repeatedly like a pecking chick, agreeing, “It’s really big!”

Liu Fujiang seemed very pleased with her. He started talking about the campus environment and then moved on to the quality of education: “Our school might not be the top one in A City, but it’s a well-ranked key school. The quality of our teachers and basic education is guaranteed. Last year, do you know what our school’s graduation rate was?”

“…”

Lin Yujing was very curious, “How much?”

Liu Fujiang slapped the desk, “Ninety-eight percent!” Lin Yujing: “Wow.”

Her reaction greatly satisfied Liu Fujiang, “Do you know what our rate of students entering top universities was last year?”

“I don’t know.”

Liu Fujiang: “Ninety percent!!”

Lin Yujing: “Wow!!!”

The biology teacher at the next desk: “…”

Liu Fujiang was very pleased with the new student and said a few more words. Just as the preparatory bell rang, he led her to Class 10.

The class bell hadn’t rung yet. Students were trickling into the classroom. The hallway of the teaching building was brightly lit. Several boys and girls were noisily running past. Liu Fujiang, in a good mood, raised his voice and yelled, “No running in the hallway!”

Lin Yujing was startled by his sudden shout. Liu Fujiang noticed and turned his head, “Did I scare you?”

Lin Yujing quickly shook her head, “No, no.”

Liu Fujiang smiled, “Alright, get ready.”

“…”

Lin Yujing wondered why she needed to mentally prepare just to attend class.

The Class 10 classroom was at the end of the hallway on the fourth floor. She held an empty backpack and followed Liu Fujiang inside.

Lin Yujing lowered her eyes, standing next to the podium, starting to understand why Liu Fujiang had just told her to prepare herself.

The class bell rang, and the class was a chaotic mess. Girls sat on desks laughing loudly, while a boy banged a mop handle against the backboard: “Who the hell touched my chrysanthemum tea?!”

Liu Fujiang cleared his throat and gently said, “Everyone, please quiet down. Class is starting.”

No one paid attention.

Liu Fujiang didn’t get angry, “I’m Liu Fujiang, and from today onwards, I’ll be your homeroom teacher. We’re going to spend the most precious two years of your lives—”

The boy with the mop handle made a new discovery and reached a boiling point of rage: “Who the hell put soup stock in my chrysanthemum tea!!!”

Liu Fujiang persisted, “—two years. This is my first time as a homeroom teacher, and I firmly believe there are no bad students, only teachers who don’t know how to teach…”

“…”

Lin Yujing couldn’t help but feel that Liu Fujiang’s claim of a ninety-eight percent graduation rate was a bit dubious.

She sighed, standing by the podium with her empty backpack, leaning slightly against it, head down, listening to Liu Fujiang share his many years of mysterious teaching experiences.

At a certain moment, the classroom suddenly fell silent.

Liu Fujiang’s voice became especially clear: “I was young then and had a bad temper. I asked the student why he was late, and guess what he told me? He said, ‘Teacher, I stayed up all night finishing my homework and couldn’t get up in the morning.’ How could I get angry at such a good kid?”

No one spoke; the classroom was dead silent.

Lin Yujing looked up and followed everyone’s gaze to the door.

Shen Juan stood there, wearing his school uniform—white jacket, black pants. His hair was slightly messy as if he hadn’t had time to style it. He lowered his eyelids and, in a hoarse voice with a heavy nasal tone, said, “Good morning, teacher. I stayed up all night finishing my homework, so I’m late.”