"Doug Feng! It's exam time—what are you doing out here? I know your grades aren't great, but skipping the test entirely? That's not the way to fix it!"
Ms. Qing Fang's sharp voice jolted Doug out of his daydream. He turned around, only to see her walking toward him across the school's track field, arms crossed, expression laced with suspicion.
Doug winced. Of all the places to run into her…
"Ms. Fang, I did take the exam. I just finished early and handed it in," he said, trying to sound as innocent as possible. "I swear."
"Finished already?" She checked her watch. "It's only been an hour. This was the Chinese exam, right? You're telling me you wrote the essay and everything in less than sixty minutes?"
Doug scratched the back of his head awkwardly. He knew how it sounded.
"I swear I did it seriously this time. Every question. I didn't just scribble answers, honest!"
Ms. Fang raised an eyebrow. "Even Linda wouldn't finish that fast—and she's practically a straight-A machine. You expect me to believe you turned in a complete essay in under an hour?"
"C'mon, Ms. Fang, cut me some slack! I'm telling the truth. Just wait till the scores come out—you'll see for yourself I didn't BS anything," Doug pleaded with a helpless shrug. What was he supposed to say? "My brain's been upgraded by a magical system?"
She gave him a long look, then let out a soft sigh. "Fine. I'll believe you—this time."
Doug was just about to breathe a sigh of relief when she added, "But since you've got so much free time now, how about joining me for a proper meal? I still owe you one for what happened at the hotel. What do you say? Want to go get Dicos?"
Doug blinked. "Wait, what?"
In Zhicheng, a mid-sized county city in Fujian province, fast food giants like McDonald's and KFC hadn't quite made their way in yet. But Dicos—a knockoff brand that tasted suspiciously similar—was the reigning champion in the hearts of local kids. It was Western, it was fried, and it was fancy enough to make you feel like royalty.
Still, Doug wasn't feeling fried chicken.
"Ms. Fang wants to treat me? Perfect. Maybe I can use this chance to get that lottery ticket back…"
Doug's eyes flicked up to the "+20 Favorability" points floating above her head. That little number gave him hope—but also reminded him of the unfinished business he had waiting in her apartment: a lottery ticket worth nearly ten million.
"Actually, Ms. Fang," he said cautiously, "I'm not really a fan of junk food. How about we go back to your place instead? You could make me instant noodles again? I really liked them last time…"
Thunk!
Her knuckles landed on his forehead like a hammer.
"You little brat! Still trying to take advantage of your teacher?" she snapped, though her face turned a bright shade of pink. "Forget it. Since you don't want fast food, let's go to a proper restaurant outside school."
Doug grinned as he rubbed his head. "Deal."
Normally, students weren't allowed to leave campus before class ended, but with Ms. Fang leading the way, Doug had a free pass. By the time the clock hit ten, they were seated at a cozy little Chinese restaurant just around the block from the school.
Ms. Fang took charge of the menu at first, but then passed it to Doug. "Here, pick a few dishes you like."
Doug glanced at the growing list of orders and did a double-take. "Uh, Ms. Fang, are you sure we can eat all this? There's, like, eight dishes—and a soup."
She waved him off. "It's fine. I told you I wanted to thank you properly, didn't I? You really saved me that day at the Golden Sun Hotel."
Her expression darkened slightly, her voice quieter. "I still can't believe the director of student affairs turned out to be someone like that… dragging me into a trap like that…"
Doug leaned forward, frowning. "You want to report him?"
He was genuinely worried. That sleazebag Qiu Guohua, the school's director who'd gotten Doug in trouble before, had set up Ms. Fang with a fake business dinner that turned out to be something far more dangerous.
"If it happens again, I might not be lucky enough to show up in time."
Ms. Fang shook her head with a bitter smile. "You don't know who that guy you beat up was, do you? Liu Chengyan. He's not just some punk—he's the son of our city's Party Secretary. And also a major shareholder in Golden Sun Hotel."
She sighed again, resting her chin on her hands. "If I tried to take them to court, it'd go nowhere. No witnesses, no proof. And worse—I could lose my job."
Doug's chest tightened. In that moment, she looked nothing like the stern, no-nonsense homeroom teacher he remembered. She looked like a girl barely out of college, crushed under the weight of a corrupt system she couldn't fight.
He hated that.
"Ms. Fang," he said quietly, "if you need a witness, I'm willing to testify. I was there. I saw what happened."
He knew the odds were slim, but he had to say it.
Because deep down, he despised this unfair reality: where the powerful could do whatever they wanted and the weak were forced to stay silent or be crushed.
Ms. Fang smiled, then changed the subject.
"Alright, enough of that. We're teacher and student. Let's talk about something more appropriate—like your grades."
Doug immediately slumped. Here we go again.
She sat up straighter, voice sharpening into teacher-mode. "I've been reviewing your records the past few days. Honestly, your foundations aren't bad—it's your attitude and carelessness that hurt you."
"There's still nearly two months left before the college entrance exam. If you really buckle down, I believe you could get into a first-tier university."
Doug gave her a wry smile. "Back to academics already, huh? Teachers really can't help themselves."
But he didn't mind. Not anymore. With the favorability system on his side, academics were no longer the scary mountain they used to be.
He sat up straight and gave her a thumbs-up. "Don't worry, Ms. Fang. I won't let you down. In fact, I'll blow your expectations out of the water."
Her eyebrows lifted. "Oh? That confident, huh?"
The dishes began to arrive just then. She picked out a few slices of meat and dropped them into Doug's bowl.
"Confidence is good. But don't forget to eat properly. You need brain fuel."
Doug chuckled and returned the favor, putting some vegetables into her bowl. "You too, Ms. Fang. You're always busy—you eat way too much instant noodles."
He remembered her trash bin back home, practically overflowing with cup noodle packaging. The thought made his heart ache a little.
But Ms. Fang just smiled playfully.
"Not lately! My mom's in town from the provincial capital, so I've been eating full meals every day. No more sad noodles."
She beamed at him, her almond-shaped eyes squinting into crescents, cheeks glowing, lips curling in a cherry-like smile.
And for a moment, Doug forgot she was his teacher.
（To be continued）