“Do you know Gu Zhi?”

Gu Chuan’s eyes widened, his voice laced with genuine surprise. “How could that be? She’s…”

“Mm. She was my elementary school teacher. We…” Su Yu paused, expression flickering with complexity. “We actually got along quite well back then.”

“Teacher? Su Yu, is your hometown in…” Gu Chuan frowned, thinking briefly. “No wonder… but this is way too coincidental.”

“What about you and Gu Zhi?”

“We share the Gu surname. She’s… sort of my closely related older cousin.”

“Then why were you frozen for so long?” Su Yu suddenly recalled how Gu Zhi had spoken his name during introductions—Gu Chuan’s shock had been just as sharp. “She’s your cousin. Haven’t you ever met her?”

“Me?”

Gu Chuan shook his head, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. “How could I have? I’ve only heard stories. Gu Zhi is from the main family’s legitimate line—her Gu blood runs far purer than mine.”

Su Yu only half-grasped his words. He’d long sensed Gu Chuan and Luo Xiaoxiao lived far beyond ordinary means, yet he couldn’t fathom why someone of Gu Zhi’s stature would teach in such a mundane place.

“Don’t you think… she looks like that woman we met at the bar?”

“The one you asked for WeChat?”

Gu Chuan’s face locked rigid, as if struck by lightning. He swallowed hard. “She does resemble her… Wait, no. Styles are too different. Makeup’s not the same. I’ve never met Gu Zhi—I wouldn’t know who she really is.”

“Su Yu,” Gu Chuan steadied himself, turning back. “You said you were close with her? Would she even recognize you now?”

“I… probably not. Otherwise, she’d have known me at the bar.”

Su Yu shook his head. Gu Zhi had likely forgotten him—after all, he hadn’t recognized her either.

“Su Yu, take my advice.” Gu Chuan glanced at the poised, elegant woman on stage. Hesitation flickered in his eyes before he clenched his jaw. “If she truly doesn’t know you… stay away. No—absolutely do not get involved.”

“Wh-why? She was kind to me.” Su Yu frowned. “Because she’s a Gu? Because she’s main-line?”

“Yes. The family’s strict. Even as past acquaintances, if she ever contends for power, her rivals’ retaliation could drag you in.”

Gu Chuan nodded, forcing a strained smile onto his pale face. He lowered his lashes to hide the lie’s quickened heartbeat. He shouldn’t have said so much—but Su Yu was ordinary. Entanglement with someone like Gu Zhi would only harm him.

“Alright. I’ll listen.”

Su Yu agreed—not just for Gu Chuan’s reasons. If he’d never met Gu Zhi in his past life, missing her now was fine. He didn’t want his rebirth altering old connections, however faint the chance—like a speck of dust.

“Mm. Let’s pretend we never knew her.”

Relief washed through Gu Chuan. He turned back to the stage. The drowsiness in his mind vanished instantly.

…

“Class dismissed,” Gu Zhi said as the bell rang. She placed the chalk in its box, gently brushing dust from her fingers, a warm smile on her face.

“My schedule is light, so classroom time is limited. But if you need help, visit me at the school counseling office. I’ll assist whenever I can.”

“Others may leave. Class monitors, please stay to verify rosters for attendance.”

Lu Siyuan—their newly elected monitor—stood to exit. Su Yu and the others rose to let him pass from the inner seat.

“Aren’t you leaving?” An Zhi blinked at Su Yu and Gu Chuan, still rooted in place.

“We are. Just… slept too long. Legs went numb.”

Gu Chuan grinned, pulling Su Yu toward the podium. “Even if she saw you at the bar, she wouldn’t remember. Didn’t recognize you then—definitely not now.”

As they lingered near the podium, other monitors finished and left.

“Teacher, may I have your contact?” A boy stepped forward confidently.

Gu Zhi glanced up from her notes. Her gaze held his face a beat too long. The boy flinched—her gentle eyes felt like they pierced straight to his hidden motives.

She smiled softly, eyes crinkling. “Of course. I’m happy to help if needed.”

Lu Siyuan still checked the roster. Su Yu and Gu Chuan walked past heads lowered. Su Yu’s expression stayed calm—calmer than Gu Chuan’s. In his past life, he’d long lost touch with Gu Zhi. Not greeting his former teacher now brought only faint regret.

No one stopped him. Gu Zhi hadn’t recognized him. Six years erased much—even a once-close bond.

He paused to let the boy who’d asked for contacts hurry past, phone clutched tight, nearly bumping into him.

“Your name is Gu Chuan, right?”

Su Yu saw Gu Chuan’s shoulders twitch ahead—a visceral shiver. An invisible pressure clamped their spines, freezing them mid-step.

He halted with Gu Chuan, watching him slowly turn.

“Cousin… so you knew me all along.”

A smile snapped onto Gu Chuan’s face the instant he turned.

“At the family banquet days ago, I met your father. He said you’ve been unruly. Since I’m teaching at Qingchuan University, he asked me to look after you.”

Gu Zhi’s smile was flawless, every gesture radiating spring-breeze warmth.

“But I believe you’re clever. You understand what’s expected… don’t you?”

Gu Chuan bowed his neck—like a gilded-court noble kowtowing to royalty: elegant robes, hollow humility before true blood.

“As you say, Cousin. Gu Chuan understands.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed unnaturally. Pallor deepened to sickly white. Others heard courtesy; he heard the warning—a shadowed dagger glinting, lethal at first blood.

“Anything else, Cousin? If not…”

“Mm. Just a greeting. That’s all.”

Gu Zhi glanced at the roster Lu Siyuan handed her. Her fingertip traced a name. A faint smile curved her lips.

“Xiao Yu… leaving without even saying hello? Or…”

The voice behind him flowed like breeze through young leaves. Su Yu’s thawing body plunged straight into glacial depths.

“Has it been so long… you’ve forgotten me?”