"What to do When the Pretty Woman I Kissed is My Best Friend's Professor" - Chapter 9

Professor Shen looked to be only twenty-four or twenty-five years old. She walked briskly up to the podium, holding a silver-white laptop in her left hand. She wore a black woolen coat, the buttons unfastened, with four golden buttons swaying as she moved. Underneath was a turtleneck sweater of the same color, which made her complexion appear pale, but her expression was cool and austere.

Though her face was pale, Professor Shen’s lips were red.

Yan He instinctively sat up straight. She suddenly felt that her “elder sister’s” chin was sharper and more slender than when they had met the other day. Despite the distance from the beginning to the end of the tiered lecture hall, Yan He still noticed her slightly narrowed eyes and restrained arrogance.

She was different from the gentle “elder sister” she had met that day.

In the short distance Shen Jinrong walked from the doorway to the podium, Yan He saw the black Martin boots she was wearing. For some reason, Yan He was reminded of her that morning, of her tired, reddish eyes, and of her pale, slender ankles.

A soft “elder sister,” completely different from the fully dressed one today, an “elder sister” who had gently stroked her head and taught her how to kiss.

A surge of overwhelming joy swept over her like a monstrous wave, trapping her within the dozens of meters-high swell. Yan He felt like a drowning person, struggling desperately in the massive current. The air was completely sucked from her lungs, and a sharp pain shot through her chest from the extreme suffocation.

The excessive rapture made her heart pound wildly, even feeling a bit overwhelming. Yan He could feel that in an instant—the moment she saw Shen Jinrong—all the blood in her body was drained by her heart, her mind went blank, and all she could hear was the urgent beat of “thump—thump—thump—.”

It was as if she were still in a hazy dream, yet also as if her beautiful dream had come true.

Her hand subconsciously moved to her forehead, and the coldness of her own hand made her shiver—the gesture was more like an attempt to draw a fraction of warmth from the spot where the “elder sister” had kissed her.

Following her usual routine, Shen Jinrong scanned the classroom. Just as she was about to look away and begin calling the roll, she caught sight of Yan He sitting in the back. Shen Jinrong’s attractive brow twitched slightly, then furrowed. As if to confirm something, she took her glasses out of her pocket, put them on, and carefully scrutinized Yan He again.

At this moment, Shen Jinrong’s gaze was completely different from when Yan He first met her. If the “elder sister” she met in Vienna was a lazy, aloof cat, then Professor Shen standing on the podium now was more like a poised leopard, every slender, graceful line of her body demonstrating an unparalleled explosive power.

Yan He: “…”

She maintained a calm expression, pretending to be unconcerned, and took out her phone from her pocket to message Li Xiuxi: “I think you’re finished.”

“…Damn.”

“I’m finished too, Li Xiuxi.”

“Professor Shen Jinrong, is that beautiful ‘elder sister’ from Vienna.”

After sending these few messages, Yan He looked up and gave Shen Jinrong a somewhat distorted, yet ingratiating, smile.

The students in the front rows whispered among themselves: “Holy cow! This Professor Shen looks so fierce!”

“Is this what they call a beautiful woman relying on her looks to be intimidating?!”

“But she keeps looking at Yan He… I hope she hasn’t figured out Yan He isn’t from our department?”

Shen Jinrong narrowed her eyes, said nothing, and lowered her head to open the class roster and begin roll call. Because Li Xiuxi was abroad for an exchange program, her name was the last one on the department’s list. Shen Jinrong checked off the second-to-last person, looked at the remaining final name, and smiled slightly.

Li Xiuxi?

Shen Jinrong was momentarily distracted. She thought of the girl who had worn a sweater and stood barefoot, hugging her from behind on the morning she left Vienna, the girl’s clean, clear, yet reddish eyes, and her soft, low-voiced murmurs.

[“My name is Yan He.”

“Yan from Haiyan Heqing (peace in the country), and He from Hebi (why bother).”]

Was it still Yan He?

The smile on Shen Jinrong’s lips slightly subsided.

Seeing Shen Jinrong pause for a long time over the last name, the students of the entire School of Business held their breath—she must have discovered that Li Xiuxi hadn’t come and had found someone to substitute for her! Was the new Professor Shen going to use this incident to establish her authority at the end of the semester?

Many began frantically messaging Li Xiuxi: “We’re doomed, sis! Professor Shen found out!”

“Holy crap, holy crap! Sis! Hurry up and get here!”

“Sis, where are you?! You can still make it if you come now!”

Meeting Shen Jinrong’s eyes head-on, Yan He swallowed hard.

Shen Jinrong slightly frowned. Her silver-rimmed glasses made her entire demeanor cold and stern. She tapped her knuckles on the table, nodded slightly, and asked in a clear voice to the only student sitting in the second-to-last row of the lecture hall: “This… student sitting in the back, what is your name?”

Contrary to Yan He’s imagined anger, the professor’s voice when asking the question was as calm as ever, her tone identical to when she was calling the roll. Yan He suddenly calmed down. She realized that the tension and worry just now were only her own, and not Professor Shen Jinrong’s.

What made Yan He more upset than the fact that she didn’t remember her was that she asked the question in a completely unfamiliar, tolerant tone reserved for a student.

Because of the distance, Yan He couldn’t clearly make out the emotion in her eyes, nor could she guess her current thoughts. Yan He clenched her fist, belatedly feeling the clamminess in her palm. She pursed her lips, suddenly wondering if agreeing to help Li Xiuxi with this class had been the right decision.

—Yes, she had always known this wasn’t right, but—but why did she only feel that it was wrong now?

Shen Jinrong looked at her steadily, and the students in the front rows also turned to look at her. In this instant, she seemed to have become the center of the world.

But Yan He didn’t want to be the center like this at all.

Everyone was looking at her, waiting for her answer. They didn’t speak, but their eager eyes felt like a silent urge.

“…Yan He, Professor.”

Shen Jinrong slightly raised an eyebrow, as if a little surprised by her answer. She pushed her glasses up with the index finger of her right hand. Yan He saw a reflection on her middle finger: a round, faintly silver-glowing ring.

For an inexplicable reason, Yan He’s heart twinged slightly, like the painful warning signal the body sends after staying up late for several consecutive days. Her body’s instinct was using this to tell her—leave, she is not someone you should desire.

Leave, if you don’t want to feed on pain.

“Yan He student.” A smile appeared in Shen Jinrong’s eyes, as if she were very satisfied with Yan He’s answer. She then spoke in a clear voice, her voice still clearly and gently reaching Yan He’s ear across most of the classroom: “Why aren’t you sitting in the front? It’s not very convenient for us to talk like this.”

“Apologies, Professor, I’m not a student of the School of Business,” Yan He opened her mouth and apologized.

She could only apologize; she had nothing else to say.

“Come sit in the first row,” Shen Jinrong clearly understood Yan He’s answer. She waved at Yan He and, with a smile hidden behind her glasses, she said warmly and jokingly: “So, my charm is this great?”

Everyone gave a good-natured laugh.

Yan He reluctantly packed her things, walked with her backpack to the first row designated by Shen Jinrong. No one was sitting in the first row of the lecture hall, and Yan He sat there alone at the end near the aisle, feeling restrained and looking a little pitiful.

“I don’t object to students who are not from this department attending my class, especially those who want to pursue a dual degree.” Shen Jinrong nodded at Yan He, and while setting up her computer and projector, she half-jokingly said to Yan He: “Yan He student, if you want to pursue a dual degree, it shouldn’t be too late now.”

Yan He opened her notebook and watched Shen Jinrong, who was now lecturing in a witty manner, completely different from the cold austerity she had when she first walked in. She thought to herself, she had already seen three different sides of Shen Jinrong—the gentle, the cold, and the humorous.

What else? What else would there be?

[“Little one, if we can meet for a third time…”]

Her voice while lecturing was different from the voice she used when saying goodbye that morning; the former was serious, while the latter carried a hint of gentle intimacy. The business school course was like reading a divine book to Yan He; she couldn’t understand it and could only mechanically copy the main points from the PPT into her notebook.

The crisp, clear sound of Shen Jinrong’s lecture gradually overlapped with the voice from their parting morning. Yan He realized she could no longer concentrate, just as she had been completely unable to follow the opera when Shen Jinrong was sitting beside her.

—It wasn’t that she couldn’t concentrate at all, but that her attention was entirely focused on Shen Jinrong.

A boiling, scalding emotion erupted from a volcano, and after a brief suppression, it surged even more violently, carrying a burning, piercing pain even in her breath.

This is the third time we’ve met, Elder Sister.