"Hey Yuchen, why do you look so down again? At your age, I’m seriously worried about your future love life."

How could I be energetic after that reincarnated Champion dragged me out to deliver food in the dead of night yesterday?

"Get lost! Who asked for your concern? Don’t waste my morning with jokes. Did you finish the investigation I asked for?"

The old pervert pulled the landscape painting I’d given him from his backpack.

"Sigh… no luck. I scoured every antique market nearby. This thing came through some shady channel. Seriously, you’re a walking jinx—are you born with weak fate? Even a ‘Painting Spirit,’ a monster unseen for decades, hunts you down. Just head to Kunlun Mountain and become a Taoist Priest. Life’s harsh, but it’ll keep you alive."

Become a Taoist Priest? Are you kidding? I’d rather die. Those frauds chant ‘heaven’s secrets must not be revealed’ nonstop. They’d get beaten on the streets.

"Anyway, I can’t help much more. Here’s your painting back. But you—what happened when you bolted from the comic con yesterday? How’s that girl?"

I made a face at Shen Yufeng and flopped onto the desk to sleep. Seriously? I got smacked by a steel pole onstage, and you’re fretting over that girl who treated me like a servant? Our bro-mance is over.

"Quiet down, everyone! Big announcement!"

A bespectacled, neat-looking boy on the podium yelled like Lincoln declaring independence. Too bad no one cared—our class monitor pulled this daily, even for swapping class schedules.

"We’re getting a new teacher!"

A new teacher? Big deal. As long as I can nap in class without holding water buckets (yes, you, English Teacher).

The class erupted. Students mobbed the podium with questions—never this eager during actual lessons.

"Male or female?"

"Female! And crazy pretty!"

"Age?"

"Classified, but my intel says twenty-three, single."

"Actually, twenty-two. Do better research next time."

That voice… familiar. I peeked at the podium and nearly choked. Wasn’t that Ye Zixin, my aunt Mengmeng’s best friend? Could she be our new teacher?

"Hi everyone! I’m Ye Zixin, your English teacher and deputy homeroom for Class 4. Let’s get along!" She struck a cute, anime-style pose.

"Whoa!! Class 4 is blessed! Both teachers are goddesses! My life’s complete!"

"Meeting you makes high school perfect!"

…

You’re happy, but why cry? Is one gorgeous deputy teacher really that shocking?

"Holy crap—even clueless onlookers crying is fine, but why you?" Shen Yufeng patted my shoulder, exasperated.

"Bro, you don’t know last night. That woman’s a demon. I’ve never seen anyone devour so much at an eight-yuan mala tang stall I almost couldn’t walk out."

Eight-yuan mala tang? That cheap stall near campus? Portions are huge—I max out at three bowls.

"How many did she eat?"

"Twelve. If Cute Teacher hadn’t stopped her, I’d have borrowed cash from her."

I broke into a cold sweat. Is her stomach iron? Twelve bowls, then class like nothing happened—superhuman.

"But Ye Zixin teaching here? Weird, right?"

Totally. Aunt Mengmeng said she’s a Hong Kong tycoon’s daughter. Why slum it at Nalanmude Middle School? What’s her real goal?

Just then, Cute Teacher rushed in, gasping under a stack of files. "Huff… Zixin, you’re too fast! Everyone, meet your new English teacher. Be nice."

"Got it!"

"Mengmeng, that’s way too many files. Ask for help sooner."

"Just papers. No trouble."

Teacher Ye Zixin ruffled Cute Teacher’s hair, smiling. "Always so stubborn. Leaning on me won’t kill you."

Cute Teacher blushed, trying to swat her hand away, but Ye Zixin held firm like a domineering CEO.

"Stop it! Students are watching. And you’ll stunt my growth!"

Cute Teacher had a tall, mature figure—easily 170cm, 175cm in heels. But beside Ye Zixin, she seemed a head shorter. Her friend’s height? Ridiculously tall.

"Ohh~~ yuri! Real-life yuri exists!"

"I believe in love again."

I rubbed my throbbing head. The stage drama and cheering crowd… campus life isn’t bad. But do we hire teachers this casually? Despair crept in.

After classes, I dragged myself home for Xia Bing’s dinner. But at my doorstep, a sleek red sports car idled outside.

That car… way too familiar. No way.