Transmigrated Into the Stand-In of the Tragic Novel’s Heroine - Chapter 39

“How are the people doing?” Xie Qingtang asked as soon as they arrived home.

Chang Yishao sighed, saying, “The aggressive one is okay, but the other young girl was frightened.” She paused, then added, “Neither of the girls is in my class. One was picked up by her parents, and the other… is crying in the office.”

Xie Qingtang was stunned and asked, “Two young girls?”

Chang Yishao crossed her arms, nodding seriously. “Yes,” she said. Strictly speaking, it didn’t concern her much, but seeing the girl crying her eyes out made her feel a surge of pity. She was just startled; it wasn’t her fault to begin with, but her homeroom teacher didn’t know how to relieve her stress and kept scolding her instead.

Xie Qingtang let out an “Oh” and didn’t press further. It was good that the two students were physically fine. Besides expressing concern at this moment, she couldn’t do much. Chang Yishao, however, could comfort the little girl.

She thought the matter was over, but the parent of the student who self-harmed came to the school and blamed everything on the other young girl who had been confessed to, incessantly cursing her, calling her disgusting and shameless, saying she was seducing people at such a young age. The homeroom teacher of that young girl remained silent, standing coldly next to the woman, perhaps genuinely agreeing with those words.

Chang Yishao, however, couldn’t stand it. It was class time, and not many teachers were left in the office. She stood up, pulled the girl, who was sobbing softly, behind her, looked at the woman coldly, and said in a deep voice, “This is an office, not a marketplace.”

The woman grew even more furious when Chang Yishao defended the student, pointing a finger at Chang Yishao and raising her voice in curses. Chang Yishao frowned and said, “The student did nothing wrong; she merely rejected your child. Accepting is despicable, refusing is leading on—are you so eager to convict her to find peace of mind? Is it perhaps because you failed to teach your own child well?”

A low cough came from behind her. Zhang Shang stood up with his cup and started to say, “Teacher Chang, you are not—”

“Shut up!” Chang Yishao spun around and snapped.

The matter ended with the appearance of the dean and the principal, but the woman’s cursing didn’t stop. She even used her status to threaten them, saying she would ensure the girl was expelled and that the school would fire a teacher like Chang Yishao, who dared to defy a parent. The principal was sweating nervously, looked worriedly at Chang Yishao, and then persuaded the woman to leave.

Weren’t her words utter nonsense?

Chang Yishao looked down at the student who was quietly weeping. She wasn’t good at comforting people, but she pulled out a tissue and handed it to her, saying gently, “You did nothing wrong. You have the freedom to choose. Take a good rest and don’t let this affect you.”

It wasn’t until the student left the office with red-rimmed eyes that her homeroom teacher sighed theatrically, saying, “It will leave a bad impression if it gets out.” He paused and added, “That parent just now donated a lot of money to the school, so we have to save her some face.”

The moment Chang Yishao heard this, the disgust and revulsion in her heart intensified beyond measure. She looked at the man coldly and said, “She is your student.”

The homeroom teacher’s expression stiffened, and after a long while, he stammered, “I’m not like you; I can’t resist everything.”

Zhang Shang said in a sarcastic tone, “Teacher Chang, Teacher Li is right, it will leave a bad impression. Your… girlfriend had better appear less at school, or it wouldn’t be good to start such a trend on campus, would it?”

Chang Yishao sneered, shedding her usual gentleness in the office. She looked at Zhang Shang and said scornfully, “Mind your own business.” Zhang Shang’s face instantly darkened. Having lost face to Chang Yishao repeatedly, he secretly harbored resentment, and that bit of “liking” turned into hatred and anger once he realized it was impossible.

Rumors always spread the fastest, and soon they filled every corner of the campus. However, a few days later, the rumors gradually changed, turning onto Chang Yishao—why did such a thing happen? Wasn’t it because of Chang Yishao, this “role model”? Schools generally didn’t interfere with a teacher’s personal orientation, but when certain incidents happened and were linked together, things that weren’t an issue before suddenly became a grave mistake.

The younger generation of teachers had already become open-minded, while some were like old fuddy-duddies living a hundred years in the past.

Chang Yishao suddenly felt the impulse to pull herself out of this situation.

Xie Qingtang had already put the school affairs out of her mind. Old Mr. Qi had sent her a wealth of information about folk craft museums through Qi Yu, stirring her heart’s desire to go “roaming.”

“Are you going? What about Chang Yishao?” Qi Yu expressed her concern after sending the bundled information.

Xie Qingtang thought for a while; she really didn’t know what to do about Chang Yishao. Should she just breach the contract? After pondering, she replied to Qi Yu, “Long distance.”

She thought she was a genius, quickly tossed her phone aside, jumped up, and rummaged through her drawers for the contract—indeed, the requirement was for her to move in, which she had done. There was no clause restricting her travel. Resignation required one month’s notice, but what about a business trip?

Having figured this out, Xie Qingtang felt much lighter. However, that bit of lightness vanished like smoke when Chang Yishao didn’t return on time.

Chang Yishao was like a punctual robot; her every move was regulated.

But tonight, after the curtain of night had fallen, she still hadn’t returned.

Xie Qingtang called her, but the phone was off.

Could she be with He Yanjin? Xie Qingtang paced back and forth in the living room, her heart filled with doubt. A moment later, she dismissed the idea. Unless everything in the past was a disguise, it wouldn’t come to this. But if she wasn’t meeting He Yanjin, where could she be? Why didn’t she send a message? Xie Qingtang knew her best option was to order takeout to fill her rumbling stomach—

But the anger in her heart was stuck and couldn’t be appeased, making her restless and unable to eat or sleep. Her thoughts jumped between Chang Yishao’s whereabouts, and suddenly she remembered the “roaming” she was looking forward to, where no one would ask about her hunger or care about the cold or warmth.

Xie Qingtang grew tired of walking. She sat on the sofa, her expression becoming increasingly stern. The moment the thought of “being overly cautious” surfaced, she realized that some things could easily derail. The word “habit” was too taxing, and the only way to deal with it was to cut the Gordian knot quickly.

That trip to Yuchéng was a must for her.

Chang Yishao returned home close to nine o’clock.

She immediately spotted Xie Qingtang sitting on the sofa with a grim face, and her brows furrowed slightly. She was pressing her temples, leaving a few red marks. “Did you have dinner?” she asked, her voice slightly hoarse.

Xie Qingtang pursed her lips and didn’t answer. It wasn’t until Chang Yishao walked up to her that she stood up and leaned in to sniff, asking, “Did you go out drinking?” She glanced up at Chang Yishao, clearly seeing the deep fatigue hidden in her eyes, and the words that were on the tip of her tongue were swallowed back. Xie Qingtang added, “I ate.”

Chang Yishao “hmm-ed,” opened her mouth, and explained, “My phone ran out of battery.”

Xie Qingtang raised an eyebrow. Was this her explanation for having no message and making her wait in vain? “There are plenty of power banks on the road, in the mall,” Xie Qingtang smiled faintly.

Chang Yishao was startled, pursed her lips, and fell silent. She hadn’t thought of that.

Xie Qingtang sat back down. Chang Yishao stood in front of her, the shadow falling and concealing the bright light. Xie Qingtang reached out to her, but a moment later, she casually drew her hand back. “Aren’t you tired standing?” she asked calmly, holding back her temper.

The probability of drinking alone was low. If Chang Yishao didn’t speak first, should she inquire? No. Xie Qingtang answered herself in her mind. She deeply understood her relationship with Chang Yishao; calling it as thin as a layer of paper was a compliment.

Chang Yishao crossed her arms, looking down at Xie Qingtang, also noticing the gesture of her hand being retracted midway. After a while, she sat down next to Xie Qingtang, took a square brocade box out of her bag, pushed it toward Xie Qingtang, and said with pursed lips, “For you.”

Xie Qingtang’s eyelids twitched. The brocade box wasn’t small and didn’t look like jewelry. She secretly let out a sigh of relief, feigning casualness as she asked, “What is this?” Her hand traced the edge until she found the clasp, and with a light flick, a soft pa-da echoed in the quiet living room. She immediately gasped.

A bamboo-silk woven fan, as thin as a cicada’s wing, with a beauty bending to pluck flowers depicted on its surface. Under the lamplight, the thin fan shimmered with flowing light, like wisps of fine smoke rising. The figure was vivid and soulful, appearing and disappearing with the movement of the fan, as light and shadow flowed.

Xie Qingtang stared at the fan fixedly, holding her breath. She curved her finger and tapped lightly on the fan handle, hearing the pleasant sound that resonated from within. Placing the fan back into the brocade box, she turned to Chang Yishao, her expression somewhat complex. “You—”

Chang Yishao interrupted her, saying lightly, “The bamboo-woven fan I said I would give you before; I didn’t lie to you.”

One “fan” for one “fan”? Xie Qingtang let out a breath. Her restless heart skipped a beat the moment she met Chang Yishao’s eyes, and it took a while to recover. She hadn’t gone to see He Yanjin; she was fulfilling her own promise.

Xie Qingtang whispered, “Did you drink a lot?”

“Not much,” Chang Yishao shook her head. A bamboo-silk fan was priceless, and a few drinks were worth it.

“You—”

“Lend me your shoulder.”

Their voices rang out simultaneously. Feeling the sudden weight on her shoulder, Xie Qingtang sat stiffly, her hands pressed against her knees, feeling a little unsettled. She blinked, but ultimately did not push away Chang Yishao, who looked exhausted.

Silence returned to the living room.

Xie Qingtang’s shoulder was a bit hard, not as soft and comfortable as a pillow, but she maintained the posture, listening to the “thump-thump-thump” of her own heartbeat.

This day was not pleasant. The school matters were worrying and frustrating, and the concern and inquiries about her emotional life at the dinner table felt like a mountain. However, the moment she received the fan, she felt it was all worthwhile.

In some ways, Xie Qingtang was very much like her past self, falling in love at first sight with these exquisite crafts, which accumulated countless years of history and painstaking effort. However, she was looking for peace and tranquility in them, a reliance. What was Xie Qingtang looking for?

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