Is Self-Redemption Really That Hard? [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 23

After the sports meet ended, the cheerful November passed by in a flash.

Winter in the capital arrived earlier than in Lu Wuqi and Lan Xu’s hometown of Lin County, so by early December, they were already swapping their usual clothes for warm down jackets. Their usual post-meal walks and chats were temporarily canceled, replaced by joint sessions of work and study at the library.

Naturally, the one typing away on a laptop with an external keyboard was Lu Wuqi. To ensure she could openly confess her relationship with Lan Xu to her mother during the New Year, she had started following up on the work of the autonomous driving project team in Yingwei Technology’s R&D department immediately after the sports meet—and had even managed to snag a deputy team leader position.

Even though Lu Wuqi’s daily working hours had increased from three to four, it didn’t interfere with her routine meals with Lan Xu. Weekends were still for the occasional shopping trip, movie, or play.

Lu Wuqi was very clear on why she worked so hard: it was to make life a little better for both herself and Lan Xu. She wouldn’t let work take priority over their relationship or get caught up in trivial matters.

“Lu Wuqi, the Youth Volunteer Association is organizing a volunteer activity at a nursing home next week. Seventy spots are reserved for internal members and eighty for external participants, so we need a total of 150 volunteers,” Lan Xu said in a low voice, leaning toward Lu Wuqi and tilting her phone screen toward her.

“There are six nursing homes in total, so if I sign up, we might not end up together,” Lu Wuqi said, moving her hand off the keyboard to hold Lan Xu’s. “How about we do the same as last time? Wherever you’re assigned, I’ll go with you.”

“Do you have enough volunteer hours to qualify for the award?” Lan Xu tilted her head. “I think the hours from the sports meet only barely met the graduation requirement.”

“Yes, I helped the club with a little task—they gave me ten hours, which just meets the minimum for the award,” Lu Wuqi replied, scrolling through her phone until she spotted a familiar name.

“Xuxu, will there be a supervising teacher this time?” Lu Wuqi asked.

“Yes, I think so, though I haven’t looked closely yet,” Lan Xu’s eyes also fell on the screen, a trace of surprise flickering across them. “Hey, Professor Yi from the Foreign Languages Department—isn’t that the class advisor mentioned?”

“Professor Yi Rushi—yes, that should be the class advisor’s college friend,” Lu Wuqi read the name aloud, her mind wandering.

If the activity is supervised by a foreign language teacher, does that mean more students from the Foreign Languages Department are participating?

After all, the department’s professors weren’t on the Youth Volunteer Association’s official list. Even if a professor was needed to accompany them, it should’ve been someone from the Social Humanities Department.

Moreover, nursing homes didn’t have much to do with the Foreign Languages Department, so volunteering there wouldn’t really help improve students’ spoken English or diplomatic skills.

Lu Wuqi’s intuition was correct. When the final list of 150 volunteers was released, a full sixty of them were from the Foreign Languages Department.

However, these students weren’t volunteering to enhance their professional skills. During her classes, Yi Rushi had noticed some of them were a bit idealistic—overly admiring foreign systems and environments while lacking appreciation for their own country.

To help them reflect on themselves, Yi Rushi had discussed with the Youth Volunteer Association organizers and arranged to scatter these sixty students across various tasks, assigning them roles that required more communication and responsibility.

Lu Wuqi didn’t sign up in advance; instead, once Lan Xu’s specific nursing home assignment was confirmed, she grabbed a seat on the bus headed there.

She was pleased to see that the supervising professor was Yi Rushi, but noticing Duan Qian sitting a few rows back slightly dampened her smile.

Once the bus started moving, Lan Xu organized her words and tried to strike up a conversation with Yi Rushi, seated to her right. “Excuse me, are you Professor Yi from the Foreign Languages Department?”

“Hmm? Is there something you need?” Yi Rushi turned toward her, her eyes soft and warm.

“Do you know Teacher Ye Yiyuan? She should have been your college classmate,” Lan Xu asked quietly.

“Ye Yiyuan? You know Yiyuan?” Yi Rushi’s eyes first widened in surprise, then quickly brightened with delight. Her tone grew a little hurried.

“Teacher Ye was our high school homeroom teacher,” Lan Xu explained. “After we got admitted to Capital University, she mentioned you to us.”

“Really? She mentioned me?” Yi Rushi’s smile deepened, her voice returning to its original calm tone. “Then she probably told you we both graduated from Capital University, so I guess I’m your senior?”

“Yes, she said that,” Lan Xu nodded.

“Professor Yi, our homeroom teacher also said that if we were short on volunteer hours, we could come help you out,” Lu Wuqi leaned over to add. “Would it be alright if we exchanged contact information?”

“Sure. I haven’t seen your homeroom teacher in a long time. How has she been lately?” Yi Rushi pulled out her phone, quickly adding Lu Wuqi and Lan Xu, even adjusting the group settings so they weren’t hidden from her Moments.

“She’s currently teaching first-year students as an English teacher and homeroom advisor,” Lan Xu said.

Yi Rushi nodded softly. Seeing the new greeting message pop up, her gaze involuntarily fell on the only conversation she had pinned to the top.

The timestamp showed it had been nearly eleven months since their last exchange—back on New Year’s Day.

“You’re Lan Xu, and you’re Lu Wuqi?” Yi Rushi retracted her gaze, trying to match the names with the two girls in front of her. “I don’t recall seeing your name, Lu Wuqi, on the list.”

“I’m just here accompanying Xuxu,” Lu Wuqi said. “I didn’t sign up, so my name isn’t on the list.”

“I see. Are you short on hours? If you’d like to help, I can add your name later,” Yi Rushi said. Since Lu Wuqi was Ye Yiyuan’s student, she naturally wanted to be considerate.

“Thank you, Professor Yi, but I’ve already met my required hours. If you ever need more hands, feel free to call me,” Lu Wuqi replied with a smile.

The bus ride to the targeted nursing home would take about forty minutes. Yi Rushi seemed distinctly interested in their homeroom teacher, Ye Yiyuan. Out of every three sentences, at least one would inevitably mention her, along with some questions about her.

Lan Xu didn’t overthink it and simply shared some of her high school experiences, enthusiastically praising her homeroom teacher’s versatile teaching methods. She noted that after every exam, their class always had the highest average English score.

Lu Wuqi, sensing an opportunity to make the conversation more engaging, added a few anecdotes about their homeroom teacher—little gossip she remembered. For example, the teacher had once been late because she misread the schedule, and later, to make up for lost time, had taken up one of the longer breaks.

“She’s a really wonderful teacher,” Lu Wuqi said. “That night during self-study, she even bought two huge boxes of bread, saying it was to make up for the lost break time.”

Yi Rushi’s face softened, attentively listening to their stories. She tried to piece together the image Lan Xu painted: a diligent, competent main subject teacher. And from Lu Wuqi’s description, she was principled yet approachable—a homeroom teacher who could truly connect with her students.

“Professor Yi, has it been a long time since you last saw your our homeroom teacher?” Lu Wuqi asked proactively as the bus approached the destination.

“Yes. I’ve stayed in the capital since graduation, while your homeroom teacher returned to Lin County,” Yi Rushi said softly. “I’ve been to Lin County before, but only during winter or summer breaks and holidays. By then, your teacher was never at school.”

Without knowing where Ye Yiyuan lived, Yi Rushi couldn’t find her even if she wanted to. After several failed attempts, she had no choice but to temporarily give up.

“That’s really unfortunate. But this winter break should be easier—first-year students don’t have make-up classes,” Lan Xu said. “Professor Yi, you could arrange a visit in advance. Our teacher doesn’t really go out; she prefers staying home alone.”

“What about New Year’s? Does your teacher usually go out then?” Yi Rushi asked, hope flickering in her eyes.

Perhaps Ye Yiyuan inviting a student over voluntarily meant she had forgiven Yi Rushi’s past mistakes?

“I don’t think so,” Lan Xu replied. “She enjoys staying home alone, reading or practicing calligraphy.”

When they had previously planned to visit, they never gave the teacher prior notice, because any student familiar with her knew: if she wasn’t at school, she would definitely be home.

Before Yi Rushi could continue asking, the bus slowed and came to a stop.

As the lead professor for the trip, Yi Rushi put away her phone and quickly shifted into coordinator mode.

After disembarking, she first communicated with the nursing home manager, then helped distribute the blue vests. With the manager’s guidance, the students familiarized themselves with the facility, and Yi Rushi began announcing the groupings and assignments for the one hundred fifty volunteers.

Lan Xu seemed to have her homeroom teacher’s lingering protection. She was assigned a very easy task: adjusting radios and TVs for the visually impaired elders and occasionally reading to them.

Lu Wuqi, with no specific task, helped Lan Xu. Her eyes occasionally flicked to Duan Qian, who was teaching the elders how to use smartphones and apps, though it was unclear what he was thinking.

The volunteer activities started at 9:30 a.m. With Yi Rushi assisting, everything went smoothly, and soon it was 11:30 a.m.

The elders had different tastes, and when it was time for lunch, they politely queued up for their meals.

Volunteers not only helped serve the food but also communicated with elders who had mobility issues, ensuring they received meals they liked.

After the elders were served, the remaining food in the cafeteria became the meal for the one hundred fifty-plus university volunteers and teachers.

“Lu, Lan, long time no see,” Duan Qian said, walking over after getting his food. “Can I share a table with you?”

“Sure,” Lan Xu replied, moving her tray and seat slightly to make room.

Duan Qian didn’t seem to notice Lan Xu’s subtle reluctance. He interpreted her gesture as an invitation and smiled, trying to make small talk.

“Is this seat free?” Yi Rushi appeared nearby with her tray, leaving Duan Qian no chance to speak.

“Professor Yi, yes, it’s free. Please, sit anywhere,” Lan Xu said warmly.

“Hello, Professor,” Duan Qian mumbled, swallowing nervously and avoiding eye contact.

He had just been severely scolded by Yi Rushi last week. Seeing her now was like a mouse seeing a cat—he was radiating the urge to flee.

“You’re Duan Qian?” Yi Rushi asked.

A university professor might not remember all students’ names, but remembering the face and name of a student she had just called out for criticism was easy.

“Yes, I’m Duan Qian,” he replied, trying to straighten his slightly slouched back.

“How was your morning task? Any impressions?” Yi Rushi asked, her gaze sharp and expression serious. “Do you remember how you previously criticized our national welfare policies?”

“Professor, my earlier views were too one-sided. I shouldn’t have spoken without verifying the facts,” Duan Qian said. He hadn’t even taken a bite of food, and sweat already beaded on his forehead.

“Good. If you can reflect on that, then this trip hasn’t been in vain,” Yi Rushi said, her tone softening slightly. “Most of the elders here are over seventy. Their life experiences are rich—you should take the time to talk with them. They can share what it’s like to witness our country’s strength.”

“Yes, I will,” Duan Qian said, swallowing nervously. “Professor, I’ll go get some more dishes. You enjoy your meal.”

Less than three minutes later, he couldn’t hold it any longer and ran off with his tray.

Face-to-face dining with a professor he feared so much was truly terrifying; he didn’t even dare breathe loudly.

Lan Xu, cheeks puffed from a mouthful of rice, curiously watched Duan Qian’s retreating figure.

Why was he so afraid of gentle, approachable Professor Yi? Had he done something wrong and felt guilty?

Hmm, judging by this, Duan Qian’s character seemed highly questionable. She decided she must keep her distance.

If he tried to share a table with her next time, she would refuse outright. No exceptions.