At this point, I couldn't take it anymore. With a quick step forward, I reached out and grabbed Director David's wandering hand just as it was about to land on Linda's butt. Deliberately raising my voice, I exclaimed, "Director David, hello, hello…"
Director David hadn't noticed the plainly dressed high school freshman standing nearby. My sudden interference disrupted his little scheme. He froze for a brief moment before a stern expression flashed across his chubby face. Adopting a particularly grave tone, he demanded, "Who are you?"
In my mind, I thought, I'm your daddy. Of course, I didn't dare say that out loud—unless I wanted to get expelled from No. 2 High School. Instead, I meekly replied, "I'm Andrew."
Director David glared at me coldly. "Andrew, which class are you in? Why aren't you reporting to your classroom? What are you doing here?"
Just then, Linda smoothly came to my rescue. "Director David, he's a distant relative from my hometown. He just got admitted to our school and was assigned to my class, so I gave him a ride here."
Hearing this, Director David's attitude toward me softened slightly. He forced a faint smile. "Oh, I see. Well, Xiao Qing, take him to register then. I have other matters to attend to. Don't forget to thank me properly afterward, alright?"
Linda let out a coquettish laugh. "Got it."
Once Director David was out of earshot, the smile on Linda's delicate face vanished, replaced by her usual cold, expressionless demeanor. She was used to giving me that icy look, and today was no exception.
Linda glanced at me. "Come with me to register."
With that, she strode ahead in her high heels, *click-clacking* on the floor. Normally, whenever I followed her, I couldn't help but stare at her alluring figure from behind. But now, as I watched her graceful silhouette, I felt as if I had swallowed a fly—disgusted and unsettled.
My grip on my suitcase tightened. I bit my lip and cursed inwardly, *You fake, pretentious bitch. You act all high and mighty, like some untouchable goddess in front of me, but around other men, you turn into a flirtatious, simpering tease.*
For as long as I could remember, I had always felt unworthy of Linda. After all, her family was well-off, she was beautiful, well-educated, and now held the respectable position of a teacher—she was outstanding in every way. Meanwhile, I was average-looking, came from a poor family, and had always felt inferior around her. No matter how harshly she treated me, I endured it without complaint.
But today, I had witnessed the untouchable goddess I idolized flirting with a middle-aged, balding man old enough to be her father. The sight left me feeling suffocated and deeply upset. Secretly, I vowed to myself: From now on, I won't be a worthless loser anymore. I'm going to make something of myself.
What I didn't know was that Linda, walking ahead with her Chanel handbag, was also feeling unsettled. She had noticed Director David's attempt to grope her and had been about to block him with her bag—but I had beaten her to it.
I followed Linda to the registration office, paid the tuition, and completed the enrollment procedures. Then she led me to the boys' dormitory and assigned me to Room 502.
Perhaps because I had stopped Director David's wandering hands, or because I wouldn't be living with her much longer, Linda actually showed a rare moment of "concern" for me. She asked if I needed anything else for my dorm and told me to let her know if I did.
I said no, and she then excused herself to attend to other matters. She told me to familiarize myself with the school and reminded me to report to Classroom 3, Grade 1 later. With that, she turned and left the dorm.
While Linda had been giving me instructions, another male student had been in the room. The guy had buckteeth, a sallow complexion, and seemed intimidated by Linda—he hadn't dared make a sound the whole time.
Only after Linda left did he suddenly bounce over to me like we were old friends. "Hey, man, I'm Mia, but everyone calls me Bucktooth."
I glanced at him. "I'm Andrew."
Bucktooth was clearly a chatterbox. Without hesitation, he plopped down on my freshly made bed and asked eagerly, "Andrew, are you close with the homeroom teacher?"
I blinked. "Homeroom teacher?"
Bucktooth explained, "Linda—Ms. Zhang."
Remembering Linda's warning not to reveal our relationship, I shook my head. "Not really. She's from my village, so we know each other."
Bucktooth's eyes lit up with understanding. "Oh, so you're her fellow villager! No wonder she personally brought you to the dorm."
Curious, I studied him. "Wait, you seem to know a lot. Are you not a freshman?"
Bucktooth chuckled awkwardly. "Heh, I was supposed to be in Grade 2 this year, but my grades sucked, so my family made me repeat Grade 1."
Ah, so he was a repeater—a seasoned veteran of No. 2 High School. No wonder he knew so much. Bucktooth was outgoing and friendly, and within no time, we were on familiar terms. He even thumped his chest and declared that if I ever had questions about the school, I should just ask him.
Yeah, right. Like I'd ask a repeater for academic help. Still, I figured he might know something about Linda. The image of my usually aloof goddess flirting with that pig-like middle-aged man still gnawed at me. Trying to sound casual, I asked, "Mia, since you repeated a year, why did you pick Ms. Zhang's class? Is she a really good teacher?"
Now that Bucktooth knew Linda and I weren't close, he spoke without restraint. "Pfft, no way. I just think Linda's hot—and kinda slutty. Being in her class means I can sneak glances at her. Way better than having some old geezer in reading glasses as a homeroom teacher."
Even though I'd never so much as held Linda's hand, she was still my wife in name. Hearing a stranger call her "slutty" made my blood boil. But I couldn't exactly scold him, so I just said in a slightly disapproving tone, "Slutty? No way. Ms. Zhang always dresses so properly."
Bucktooth seemed to remember that Linda and I were "from the same village," so he toned it down a little. "I dunno. People around school whisper that she's got something going on with the higher-ups—especially Director David. Maybe it's just because she's pretty, so rumors spread easily."
I fell silent, my mind replaying the scene in the parking lot—Linda's flirtatious tone with David, his hairy hand reaching for her butt. The discomfort in my chest flared up again.
Bucktooth didn't notice my darkening expression. He checked his phone and said, "Oh, it's already ten. Even though there aren't classes on the first morning, we still have to gather in the classroom for seating arrangements, cleaning, and textbook distribution. Andrew, you probably don't know where the classroom is yet, right? Come on, I'll take you."
"Yeah, sure."
I quietly pushed down my bitter emotions and followed Bucktooth out of the dorm. We crossed the noisy playground, passed the lab building and the faculty office building, and finally arrived at an eight-story teaching block.
Since it was the first day of school, the stairways and corridors were packed with students, creating a chaotic atmosphere. Every now and then, groups of older students swaggered past, cigarettes dangling from their mouths. If a freshman didn't move aside fast enough, they'd get a kick.
"Why are the older students so aggressive?" I asked, watching one of them shove a younger kid aside.
The guy stood out from the freshmen—dressed in Adidas sportswear, a silver earring glinting in his left ear, a cigarette between his lips. Whether it was because No. 2 High School had lax discipline or because he wanted to flaunt his rebelliousness, he carried himself like a thug, radiating a don't-mess-with-me aura.
Bucktooth seemed nervous around him and whispered, "That's John. He's from the city, knows a lot of people inside and outside school, and—here's the kicker—Director David is his dad. So he basically does whatever he wants here. He's a repeater too, so he'll be in our class. Don't piss him off—he holds grudges, and if you cross him, he'll make sure you're too scared to come to school."
I nodded, and we continued toward Classroom 163. John and his lackeys walked ahead of us, and snippets of their conversation drifted back.
"Damn, did you guys see Ms. Zhang today?" John said. "First day of school, and she's already wearing that tight dress. Just looking at her figure makes me drool."
A pimply-faced guy beside him snickered. "Yeah, man. When she walked past me, I took a sneaky whiff—she smells so good."