A Straight Wife Fallen from the Sky - Chapter 16

Mu Jiahui sat in the chair behind the desk, the stack of haphazardly filled-out test papers lying before her.

Sang Zhancheng sat in front of the desk with her head hung low. Her tail flickered from time to time, revealing her internal tension.

Mu Jiahui organized the papers. The rhythmic clack-clack of the paper hitting the desk struck Sang Zhancheng’s heart one beat after another, shattering her already fragile defenses.

“You couldn’t write the answers, so you just wrote whatever to get it over with, is that right?”

Sang Zhancheng nodded once.

“You didn’t want to write, you’d rather draw, is that right?”

Sang Zhancheng nodded twice.

“You used dice to roll for the answers—rolling for the multiple-choice questions was one thing, but you rolled for the fill-in-the-blanks too?”

Sang Zhancheng buried her head as low as it could go. A succubus’s body was flexible enough that by lowering her head like this, she nearly tucked it into her own abdomen.

“That… that one was 13…” Sang Zhancheng still tried to quibble.

In the past, when she did fill-in-the-blank questions, she would actually roll an option based on the nearest multiple-choice question and then fill in the number of that answer into the blank.

Unfortunately, she hadn’t done this for over a month and had grown rusty; today, she had accidentally filled in the letter she rolled instead.

Mu Jiahui nearly slammed the test paper onto the desk.

Back when she used to lecture employees who repeatedly slacked off, they wouldn’t dare breathe a word, let alone talk back. This young girl truly was a “newborn calf unafraid of the tiger,” actually daring to argue.

Mindful that this was Sang Zhancheng’s first offense, Mu Jiahui restrained some of her anger.

“Even if what you wrote really was ’13,’ and even if the answer to the question was ’13,’ if you write it like this in an actual exam room, it’s impossible for a teacher to give you points.”

However, Mu Jiahui’s tone remained stern, causing Sang Zhancheng to shudder.

“I… I know now. It won’t happen next time…” Next time I’ll definitely be careful not to fill in a letter.

“And you aren’t allowed to just write random numbers either. You aren’t actually in an exam room right now, trying to scramble for points. I’m just trying to gauge your level. If you can do it, you can do it; if you can’t, you can’t. What use is there in filling it up just to fool me?”

Sang Zhancheng raised her head, her eyes filled with obvious confusion mixed with a hint of wishful thinking. “Then in the future, if I don’t know the answer, can I just leave it blank?”

As soon as Mu Jiahui heard this, she knew exactly what the girl was plotting.

She flicked Sang Zhancheng’s forehead. “Even if you don’t know how to do it, you must write down the process for me. You are not allowed to just skip it.”

“Fine…” The plan to use “not knowing how” as an excuse to leave an entire paper blank was strangled in its cradle. Sang Zhancheng clutched her forehead, looking quite aggrieved.

“Write it again. There will be a reward when you finish.” Mu Jiahui thrust the nearly pristine test paper back into Sang Zhancheng’s hands.

Sang Zhancheng’s ears perked up at the word “reward,” and her eyes lit up.

“What’s the reward?” Is it a kiss? She remembered that finishing one test paper earned her three kisses.

Thinking of this, Sang Zhancheng exploded with incredible motivation. She grabbed her pencil and began flying through the questions.

“I’ll tell you when you’re finished.” Mu Jiahui casually pulled out a piece of paper and began studying the textbooks of this world.

This world possessed something called magic. Even if the laws of the world were consistent with Mu Jiahui’s original world, the progress of science could not possibly be identical.

However, what high schoolers had to learn was material researched by scientists hundreds of years ago, which didn’t have much to do with the current cutting-edge achievements.

Language arts, mathematics, physics, and chemistry were virtually identical to Mu Jiahui’s original world.

The Language Arts exam only lacked Classical Chinese, so the exam duration was reduced to two hours.

The final question in Mathematics was calculus or functions. The difficult topics in Physics involved momentum, impulse, and magnetic fields. Chemistry was missing one or two sections but had added several formulas that could be triggered by magic.

Biology had a slightly larger gap. After all, Sang Zhancheng’s world had more species, some of which had physiological characteristics far removed from humans. Mu Jiahui would need to study for a few more days before she could tutor Sang Zhancheng in it.

Mu Jiahui had been a science student, but she wasn’t completely ignorant of politics, history, or geography.

Politics was based on human nature and objective laws; the areas where there were differences wouldn’t be too difficult to understand.

While flipping through the Geography book, Mu Jiahui was surprised to find that the terrain and geology of the two worlds weren’t much different.

Only History was completely foreign, requiring Mu Jiahui to do a lot of research.

By the time she finished taking these notes, only forty minutes had passed.

Sang Zhancheng handed in her paper almost exactly at the point where her “magic power” was about to run out.

She walked casually to Mu Jiahui’s side with the paper and saw that Mu Jiahui was still focused on her notes. Her expression was incredibly serious and earnest, so much so that she didn’t even notice her approach.

The woman’s fingers were well-defined, and the characters she wrote were vigorous and powerful.

Her long, curled eyelashes drooped, slightly veiling the deep color of her eyes, and her glasses reflected the light, making it hard to see her gaze clearly.

This sense of mystery added a layer of charm to her.

Sang Zhancheng swallowed.

People who were serious were truly the most beautiful.

As long as Mu Jiahui didn’t speak, Sang Zhancheng wouldn’t treat her like some “Old Nun Miejue” and would instead develop certain hidden desires.

Sang Zhancheng squatted down and ducked in front of Mu Jiahui, interrupting her focused research on the textbooks.

“You’re finished already?” Mu Jiahui stared at the girl who had suddenly popped up, feeling more than a little surprised.

She adjusted her glasses and found the smile on the girl’s face growing increasingly radiant.

“Yes, yes, yes, I’m finished.” Sang Zhancheng was screaming internally, praising her own eye for partners for the umpteenth time.

How did she manage to choose so well? Choosing someone whose looks perfectly matched her preferences?

She really was an impressive succubus.

Could it be she did very well? Otherwise, why is she smiling?

Fortunately, Mu Jiahui could not hear Sang Zhancheng’s inner monologue. She simply furrowed her brows and took the test paper from Sang Zhancheng’s hand.

Sang Zhancheng had handed it to her face-down.

Mu Jiahui took a cursory glance and found that every question did indeed have something written on it; there were no blanks.

“See? Finished. Where’s the reward?” Sang Zhancheng nearly sat on Mu Jiahui’s lap.

She wanted to, but the paper and pen on Mu Jiahui’s lap were a serious hindrance to her performance.

She made a mental note against the paper and pen; if there were a next time, she would curse them to fall to the floor.

Sang Zhancheng had to settle for the next best thing: sitting to Mu Jiahui’s right, staying very close to her so that they would inadvertently have physical contact.

Mu Jiahui didn’t answer.

Anyone who could finish a standard two-hour college entrance exam in forty minutes was either a genius or a total amateur. Based on Sang Zhancheng’s level, it was likely the latter.

Two minutes passed. Mu Jiahui was still looking at the test paper, her brow furrowing tighter and tighter.

Meanwhile, Sang Zhancheng was completely unaware of the low pressure radiating from the person beside her. She was immersed in the joy of the impending kiss and intimacy. Pink bubbles seemed to float around her, and her whole being radiated the aura of springtime.

Her tail had turned a most excited red, flecked with a bit of tender pink, flickering on and off.

If an ordinary human saw this, they would fall under the succubus’s charm.

Mu Jiahui was not an ordinary human. She didn’t see Sang Zhancheng’s tail either; she only saw the words “Don’t know,” “Can’t do it,” and “Don’t understand the question” written all over the paper, along with the most frequent entry: “Solution:”.

It was filled out, but not a single question had been answered seriously. She had even written the two large characters for “Don’t know” on the very first, easiest multiple-choice question.

Mu Jiahui suddenly became concerned for her own health.

Is it possible that while teaching her, I’ll end up dying of pure anger?

The most infuriating part was yet to come.

The culprit not only lacked any self-awareness about her abysmal performance and blatant slacking, but she actually felt she had done quite well, constantly rubbing against Mu Jiahui.

Just as Mu Jiahui felt the veins on her forehead were about to burst, Sang Zhancheng blew a puff of air into her ear.

“Finished looking? I finished writing, you know. Can we kiss now?”