Forced into a Secret Marriage with the Villain, We Now Have a Child - Chapter 9

“Teacher Jian?”

One of the students called out to Jian Chun, noticing she had drifted off. She snapped back to reality, a practiced smile appearing on her face. Looking at the group of students, she felt a slight sense of superiority in her new role, which made her demeanor naturally pleasant.

“I’m not a fan of hers,” Jian Chun said softly. Her tone was gentle, as if the previous tension had never existed and she was merely discussing a trivial matter.

The students looked surprised; several girls couldn’t hide their disappointment. Ever since Jian Chun had mentioned Yu Siyi in the class group chat, they had assumed she was a fellow fan. They had felt a sense of kinship and curiosity toward her because of it. Now, she was telling them she wasn’t on their side.

“Teacher Jian, are you really not a fan?” one girl asked, unwilling to give up.

Jian Chun shook her head with elegant politeness. No, she wasn’t a fan. They were simply listed on the same Household Register (Hukou).

Just thinking about it made Jian Chun’s heart bleed. Being married to the woman was somehow more soul-crushing than being a fan.

Seeing the eager faces of these young girls, Jian Chun advised, “Regardless, you should focus on your studies. Fandom should be kept in moderation. The internet is vast, and you’re exposed to so much; it’s easy to lose your sense of judgment at your age…”

The girls’ eyes lit up again, but for a different reason. “Teacher, Yu Siyi is truly incredible! Did you know she graduated from our middle school? Word is, she was even the Top Scorer (Zhuangyuan) of the Gaokao in our city back then!”

The exquisite mask Jian Chun wore began to crack. The Top Scorer? How was Yu Siyi the Top Scorer? And if she was that brilliant, why didn’t she stay home to inherit the family business instead of messing around in the entertainment industry?!

Jian Chun had intended to warn them about being misled by a pretty face, only to find out that the person she viewed through a prejudiced lens was actually a genius.

“I heard Teacher Ke, who teaches Math for the Grade 11 ‘Rocket Class,’ was Yu Siyi’s homeroom teacher,” another student added.

“During the 60th-anniversary celebration last year, I was only in Grade 9, but they invited her back! That was the closest I’ve ever been to my idol!”

“You’re so lucky… I was still in a rural middle school back then.”

“Even the equipment and desks in the lab building were donated by her. She funds several school scholarships, too.”

As the students chattered away, sharing their admiration, Jian Chun—who had been trying to build a rapport with them—found she couldn’t get a word in edgewise.

Once the registrations were finished and the classroom was tidied, Jian Chun went to find her office. Class 10 was on the second floor, meaning her office was likely on the same floor or the third.

The class committee helped her carry the mountain of winter break assignments. “Put the assignments on the respective subject teachers’ desks,” Jian Chun instructed. The students, used to the routine, began distributing the stacks.

Jian Chun noted that teachers for the same class usually sat near each other. In this six-person office, three were teachers for her class. She memorized their spots: English, Math, and Chemistry. Since Grade 10 hadn’t split into specialized tracks (Science/Arts) yet, there were many subjects and many teachers to remember.

Just as she was finishing up, a woman leaned against the doorframe, smiling. She was young, with shoulder-length short hair and a capable, intellectual aura.

Remembering this was a world where same-sex marriage was legal, Jian Chun stayed on guard for a split second. But the woman just crooked a finger at her. “Let’s go. Time for lunch. There’s a meeting this afternoon.”

Jian Chun realized this was Yi Xueyang, the teacher she often chatted with on WeChat. Yi was the homeroom teacher for Class 9; they were roughly the same age and quite close.

“Wow, it’s only been one winter break, and I feel like you’ve put on weight,” Yi Xueyang joked.

“I have not!” Jian Chun deflected. “How’s your class looking?”

“Ugh, same old thing. You know how hard it is to be a homeroom teacher. You used to say you couldn’t relate, but now…” Yi Xueyang glanced at her. Now, they both carried the “heavy yet sweet” burden of being in charge of a class.

On their way downstairs, they ran into an older female teacher. Yi Xueyang greeted her, and Jian Chun followed suit. The older woman looked at Jian Chun. “Congratulations on becoming a homeroom teacher.”

Jian Chun smiled politely. She recognized her: this was Teacher Ke, who had taught her years ago. It felt like only yesterday that she was the one being lectured by Teacher Ke.

Once they reached the ground floor, Yi Xueyang remarked, “Teacher Ke is still in such great shape… By the way, were you and Yu Siyi classmates?”

Jian Chun’s ears perked up. What is wrong with everyone today? Why is her name coming up everywhere?

“How did you know?” Jian Chun asked.

“Teacher Ke mentioned it. She said you were quite the handful back in the day.”

“…” Jian Chun’s facial muscles twitched in a forced smile.

“All the teachers know,” Yi Xueyang said enviously. “There was a huge buzz when she visited last year. You were actually in the same class as her? Talk about luck!”

Luck? More like stepping in dog manure, Jian Chun thought, offering Yi Xueyang a look of silent pity.

Throughout lunch, Jian Chun felt gloomy. Even though Yu Siyi wasn’t there, her “legend” was everywhere. The students loved her, the teachers adored her, and even her colleagues envied her for having been Yu Siyi’s peer.

They went to a fast-food place outside the school since the cafeteria was still being cleaned. They ordered Mapo Tofu, Pickled Fish, and Stir-fried Beans.

Jian Chun looked at the wall covered in old sticky notes—years of history left by students. As she scanned them, the shop owner, a lean middle-aged man, walked out. “Teacher Jian, school’s starting back up, eh?”

“Yes. You recognize me?” Jian Chun asked, then realized it was a silly question. If the old teachers remembered her, the local shopkeepers surely did too.

“Teacher Jian, are you joking with me?” the owner laughed, bringing over two free bowls of Silver Ear soup.

As they ate, another voice interrupted: “Oh, Teacher Jian and Teacher Yi are here too.”

Jian Chun looked up to see a woman sitting at a nearby table. She searched her memory and found the name: He Yin, the English teacher for Class 10.

He Yin looked at Jian Chun with a faux-sweet smile. “Is that a new bag, Teacher Jian? I guess being a homeroom teacher really changes things. It’s not a knock-off, is it?”

“Everyone wants something new for the New Year,” Yi Xueyang tried to diffuse the tension.

Jian Chun narrowed her eyes. This He Yin was clearly looking for trouble.

“Must be nice,” He Yin sighed, rolling her eyes. “With my measly salary, I certainly can’t afford designer brands. I suppose I’m just destined to be poor.”

Jian Chun finished her soup and stood up. As she smoothed out her coat, she said casually, “Oh, this coat? I think it’s a designer brand too.”

She stepped out from behind the table, intentionally showing off her outfit. “And this skirt… oh, and these boots.” She glanced at He Yin, whose face was flushing with rage.

Jian Chun smiled brilliantly. “What a coincidence—they’re all genuine.