I have to admit, our education system places a significant emphasis on imaginative writing.

Since elementary school, I’ve been endlessly handing in a penny I picked up to the police or diligently washing my mom’s feet. By middle school, I acquired enough knowledge to start helping elderly ladies cross the street constantly.

Then in high school, we were instructed to act all wise and mature, crafting essays brimming with deep philosophical diagrams, sentences, and materials—truthfully writing things we didn’t understand at all.

For example, the current boom of fantasy literature and web novels didn’t emerge out of nowhere; it has a lot to do with the education we’ve had growing up.

This has also led to the flourishing of domestic web novels — full of imaginative settings. You know, stuff like traveling to another world to build a harem, jumping to the future to build a harem, landing on an alien planet to build a harem... all of it written so well, and I absolutely love it.

And then there’s the creative type where adorable boys fantasize about turning into girls, vividly describing their lives as girls after the transformation—it’s quite original!

Really, I’ve had such fantasies myself, though mine are a bit different—I imagine all those boys who want to become girls do actually transform. Perhaps this could help resolve our country's gender imbalance.

After all, finding a suitable wife to carry on one’s lineage is a grueling endeavor. If the pressure of the population imbalance eased, I would have better chances of finding an exceptional woman to produce even more exceptional offspring.

When speaking to Mr. Li Zhe, I couldn’t help but want to tell him the truth. But truth be told, the truth itself is often too simple to believe — too bare and straightforward for anyone to take seriously.

Luckily, I’ve read plenty of novels and absorbed enough news to fabricate a story that’s both reasonable and spares me of effort or responsibility. It wasn’t too much of a challenge.

Clearing my throat, I spoke up in a clear and fluent tone:

“Teacher, actually... here’s how it really happened.”

“I’ve known Jiang Muqing since we were kids. We’re childhood friends—no, we’re childhood sweethearts to be precise. Recently, though, her father’s business went under, and he borrowed some money from my dad. But now the deadline’s passed, and they just keep delaying repayment.

Due to this, the relationship between our families soured. My dad, after losing his patience, grabbed—well, not a stick or anything—but the IOU, and headed to their house to demand repayment. Unfortunately, her family just kept evading, acting as if they really couldn’t pay.

With things escalating, my dad decided the only option left was to take the matter to court. What’s unfortunate is, if the case went through, their mortgage and cars would all be repossessed by the bank, and the furniture would be moved out completely.

Jiang Muqing pleaded with me to talk to my father—her family was really out of options. She begged me to ask him for leniency, for just a few more days. She was desperate.

Because we had such a pure and innocent bond as children, I felt compelled to stand up for her. But my father, furious, told me, ‘If you plead for her again, boy, I’ll break your legs.’

Faced with that threat, I had no choice but to let go of our childhood connection, teary-eyed, and reject her last plea.

On the day of the report assembly, coincidentally the very day Jiang Muqing’s family lost their home and car, she was quite emotional. Seeing me, she boiled over in anger, seeing me as an enemy.

Of course, we couldn’t possibly kick up a fight in front of the teachers and students in the grand hall during the assembly. Instead, we went outside to settle things.

Since she’s a girl, I resorted only to words instead of fists—laying out facts with reason. But her rage was unchecked: she struck at me with punches and kicks, even trying to claw my face like an animal.

Still, being a righteous and civil person, I managed to win with the tool of justice—the law—convincing her of my stance. In the end, guilt overcame her, and she ran off crying.”

I paused to moisten my throat, taking a gulp of hearty buckwheat tea. The shallow bowl was drained instantly.

Mr. Li seemed rapt with intrigue, only snapping out of his immersion upon realizing I’d stopped speaking. Without hesitation, he picked up the pot and refilled my cup.

I glanced at Mr. Li. Though his expression showed attentiveness, there remained a vague look of skepticism on his face, as if not entirely convinced.

This wouldn’t do—I needed to play my trump card.

“Teacher, look at this!” I turned my cheek, showing him the bruise on my face. “She did this! Almost ripped off a piece of my skin!”

“You’re right...” Mr. Li leaned closer for a look, confirming the injury.

Yet why did he still seem disbelieving? My story was both plausible and backed by physical evidence. Why wouldn’t he buy it?

I had to resort to more dramatics—the art of fabrication beckoned.

“Teacher, she hit me on my body too. Do you want to see? I can strip right now and show you.” My face was the picture of wronged innocence as I pretended to reach for my collar.

Not that I actually had any injuries, but I was confident Mr. Li wouldn’t let me start undressing here in his office.

“Alright, alright. I believe you,” he waved me off with a faint look of resignation.

Finally, he seemed convinced.

“But why... why is it that when you talk about this, it sounds so exaggerated? I was starting to feel like you were performing a comedy routine! Still, it was quite entertaining,” Mr. Li chuckled awkwardly.

A comedy routine?! Never in my life have I even considered dabbling in comedy! This is live-action storytelling, but my soul was flailing in despair! Outwardly, though, I maintained my mask of pitiful innocence.

“So then, why were you looking for Jiang Muqing today? Haven’t you already become enemies?”

Ah, Mr. Li, the practiced teacher, with razor-sharp observation. Truly impressive, but even sharp questions are no match for a prepared mind.

“Well, you see, though our families are at odds, my dad still couldn’t bear seeing their dire circumstances. He decided to help her family retrieve their home from the bank, so they would at least have somewhere to live. Surely you agree, Teacher, it’s not like our family is completely heartless.”

I softened my tone, letting genuine sympathy preface my next words.

“My dad asked me to inform Jiang Muqing because her father refuses to talk to ours directly anymore.“

Mr. Li seemed moved by the gesture, nodding thoughtfully.

“That makes sense. Your family isn’t heartless, indeed. Pressing too hard would only push them too far—a girl like that… she really is pitiable,” he added, finally giving his approval.

“By the way, Teacher, Jiang Muqing doesn’t seem to be in class these days. Has she been absent?” Steering the conversation carefully, I got to the crux of my visit.

“No... actually...” Mr. Li’s face darkened, shadowed by concern.

“Since the day of the assembly, she hasn’t attended class at all. Apparently, she’s unwell at home and seems pretty dispirited. She skipped Saturday’s remedial lessons and Sunday’s special training sessions as well. If this keeps up, I fear she’ll fall behind academically,” Mr. Li said with a worried sigh.

This was concerning—could it be that she’s already passed away, but the school remains unaware?

“Has she called in recently?” I ventured.

“Actually, she called in earlier this morning to say she wouldn’t be attending today,” Mr. Li recalled.

That confirmation made my heart leap with relief—if Jiang Muqing had called today, it meant the Saturday drowning victim in the artificial lake at People’s Park wasn’t her. Thank heavens!

“Is there a problem?” Mr. Li eyed me quizzically.

“Not at all! Teacher, if possible, could you give me her address? I’d like to visit her today and explain things properly—clear this up, once and for all.” Nothing else could truly set my mind at ease without seeing her.

"But your families are on such bad terms. How come you don’t know her address already?” Mr. Li’s gaze sharpened, sensing a potential inconsistency.

Persistent, wasn’t he? A lesser student might have buckled under such scrutiny.

“Well, sir, her house was repossessed—obviously her family wouldn’t be sleeping on the streets. They’d need to find another place to stay, wouldn’t they? And given the situation, there’s no way they would let us know their new address willingly!”

“I see, that makes sense. Alright then, I’ll give you the details later. When you visit her, be sure to send my regards as well—ensure she knows I care. And try to comfort her; it’s clear that her family’s financial troubles have really taken a toll,” Mr. Li finally conceded, his words full of gentle reminders.

“Oh, and don’t forget to take these exam papers and workbooks for her. They’re the assignments she’s missed while she’s been out. Please bring them to her after school, alright?” He concluded with a handy set of academic materials ready.

“Of course, Teacher. Thank you!” I replied enthusiastically.