HCKSAB ~ 04

Chapter – 04

After stepping down as homeroom teacher, Shao Sui had a lot more free time during the day.

After prepping his lessons, Shao Sui put on a pair of black-rimmed glasses—a very ugly style, the frame given by the director of academic affairs, with lenses he’d had fitted himself.

But Shao Sui’s bone structure was too outstanding; even if his facial features weren’t top-tier, set in that frame they still had plenty of appeal. The black-rimmed glasses didn’t make him uglier, just gave him a different style.

He sat at his workstation with a cool, restrained air, typing away at the keyboard nonstop. The wind crossed over the windowsill and stirred his hair, but he didn’t bother with it, appearing exceptionally focused.

Anyone who didn’t know better would have thought Shao Sui was handling some extremely serious official business. Only Shu Yi, passing by and glancing over, noticed that what was displayed on his computer screen was an Excel spreadsheet.

It was filled with all kinds of cute names, such as Jelly, Dot, Sweetie, Cake, Pipi…

A hundred of them at least.

As a married person, Shu Yi’s first reaction was to open the small group chat and share with a few teachers of similar age: “Now I know why Teacher Shao isn’t interested in Teacher Cheng!”

Teacher Zhang: Why? Isn’t Teacher Cheng good enough?

Teacher Fan: Why?

Teacher Wen: Do tell.

Shu Yi: Teacher Shao might already be married! And his wife is probably pregnant recently—I just saw him picking out a baby nickname! Looks like it’s for a girl!

Teacher Zhang: !?

Teacher Fan: Whoa. Isn’t finding out the gender illegal?

Teacher Wen: He hid it that well?

Instantly, multiple gazes turned toward Shao Sui in unison, then snapped back just as quickly.

Shao Sui looked up and pushed his glasses. “Did something else happen that I don’t know about?”

The reason Shao Sui asked that was because the last time a student’s parent had caused a scene at the school, something had come up at home and he’d taken leave, not at school, and his phone had been turned off.

By the time he returned to school, the entire faculty already knew that a student in Class 2 had filled their diary with fantasies about him—everyone except him.

“No, no.” Everyone said in unison. “Nothing.”

The group chat started pinging again.

Teacher Fan: Teacher Shao doesn’t seem married. I’ve never seen him wear a wedding ring.

Teacher Zhang: Unmarried father?

Teacher Cao: That’s enough, you guys! Can’t it be that he’s picking a name for a relative’s kid? All you do is gossip every day—can you just focus on work?

Teacher Shu: If he’s single, there’s no reason he wouldn’t be interested in someone as outstanding as Teacher Cheng. Men, after all, aren’t they interested in any woman?

Teacher Cheng: Everyone seems to have forgotten that I’m in this group too.

Teacher Shu: Haha, aren’t you in class?

Teacher Cheng: Playing with your phone during class?

Shu Yi couldn’t help it and asked from her workstation, “Which Teacher Cao is this? Does our school have a teacher surnamed Cao?”

Shao Sui continued typing names into the Excel sheet without looking up. “The director of academic affairs is surnamed Cao.”

“…” Silence.

A few teachers let out shrieks. “When did he infiltrate our little group!?”

The next second, Shao Sui received a WeChat message from the academic director: You have a kid???

See? That’s how rumors are born.

Shao Sui thought for two seconds, deduced the course of events, and replied: Yeah.

Director Cao clearly kept up with the younger generation’s pace, sending seven or eight facepalm emojis in a row: I only told you this morning not to get into a relationship for half a year, and in just a few hours you’ve already produced a kid for me?

Director Cao: [wiping tears], fine, have it if you must—I can’t exactly tell your wife to put it back—but can you keep it low-key and not show off the kid in the office? What are we supposed to do if that student finds out?

Shao Sui replied: Can’t really put it back, and I don’t even know which mother it is.

In the other office, Director Cao shot up from his chair. “Outrageous!”

He had only ever heard of women not knowing who the father was, but this was the first time he’d seen a man claim not to know who the mother was.

Shao Sui walked over to the water dispenser and poured himself a cup of water. “If you guys want to gossip, you can just ask me directly.”

Everyone laughed it off for a bit, but ultimately couldn’t resist their curiosity: “We saw Teacher Shao picking names earlier—do you have a kid?”

“Yeah, just got one yesterday.” Shao Sui leaned by the window, calmly testing the temperature of the water. “I didn’t tell everyone because I didn’t want you to go to any trouble.”

“Teacher Shao, that’s way too formal of you!”

Shao Sui had been working for over two years and was always well-liked. Hearing this, everyone pulled out their phones and started sending money transfers: “We’ll skip the banquet, but don’t forget to bring us some wedding candy!”

“Boy or girl? When did you get married?”

“Not married. A boy.”

“Oh.” Shu Yi regretted bringing up the topic a little, and asked cautiously, “So the child’s mother is…”

Shao Sui didn’t really mind, and thought for a moment before saying, “It might be living it up in someone else’s house right now, or it might be wandering around some unknown corner, and well… the possibility of it being dead isn’t small either.”

“…” The entire office fell even quieter than when they’d discovered Director Cao lurking in the small group chat earlier.

That sounded like quite a story, but no one dared to ask.

“Talking about its mother isn’t very interesting. We have no feelings for each other.” Shao Sui said gently. “Don’t you all want to see a photo of the kid? Over a year old, pretty ugly.”

By now, some people were starting to sense something was off. He’d just said the child came along yesterday, and now he was saying it was over a year old. But before their brains could catch up, their mouths instinctively went through the motions of politeness: “How could Teacher Shao’s child be ugly? You’re being too modest!”

Shu Yi said, “Come on, show us what kind of little handsome guy he is! He must have double eyelids just like Teacher Shao!”

Shao Sui leisurely pulled out his phone. The first unread contact in WeChat was the utterly broken-down Director Cao, who had sent over a dozen emoji expressing utter despair.

Director Cao: Xiao Shao, I appreciate your trust in me, not hiding anything at all.

Director Cao: But even though our establishment doesn’t have strict restrictions on private life, you still need to have some basic personal morality. Setting aside the child not having a proper status, you can’t just not even be able to find the mother—that’s just asking for gossip!

Director Cao: Say something, Xiao Shao!

Director Cao: Hello!

Shao Sui swiped into his photo gallery, opened the recent album, and placed the phone on the desk, waving his colleagues over. “Didn’t I say it was ugly? And its voice is awful too—can’t speak human language, just goes ‘ah ah ah.'”

A group of teachers crowded around excitedly, then fell into silence within seconds.

Shu Yi stammered for a moment. “Th-this kind of kid… not exactly ugly, just a bit hairy.”

Teacher Fan remarked, “I never knew Teacher Shao was such a humorous person.”

The math teacher from the neighboring class said calmly, “Refund my money! I transferred my whole month’s allowance to you!”

Just then, the academic director, who hadn’t received a reply from Shao Sui, came rushing over in a fluster. “Where’s Teacher Shao?”

Shao Sui held his water cup and said calmly, “Director Cao’s here too? Perfect, come see if my kid meets your standards.”

“You, you really—!”

Director Cao walked over to the crowd with a look of grievance, and the moment he got a clear look, his mind went blank.

There was no photo of a child in the phone at all. Swipe left, swipe right—it was all cats.

And a calico at that—a beauty among cats.

Director Cao took two deep breaths, waved his hand in exhaustion, and turned to leave. “Don’t be this mischievous next time, alright.”

But just as he stepped out of the office, he realized he’d been kicked out of the teachers’ small group chat again.

“…”

It’s fine. He still had a backup account. He’d find an opportunity to have a mole add him back in.

–

This little incident at school had lifted much of the gloom that had been hanging over Shao Sui lately, and he returned to his usual gentle, refined model-teacher state.

He even went to teach another class and, when encountering that student who harbored so many fantasies about him, could still, as usual, call on him to answer a question when he raised his hand.

But Shao Sui was very fair about it—his call-ons never repeated in any given class, and each student was only called on once a day.

No other reason, except that the male student had written in his diary: Teacher Shao called on me to answer a question for the second time today, when clearly all the other classmates only got one turn. My heart is beating so fast. Maybe in his eyes, I’m special too.

Shao Sui really wanted to change his WeChat status to “My sexual orientation is pretty mainstream,” and besides, if a teacher could actually develop feelings for a student, what would be the difference between that and an animal?

Shao Sui didn’t think he looked like an animal.

But the academic director wouldn’t let him change his status, for fear of provoking the student.

Director Cao’s exact words were: provoking yourself is fine—at worst you’ll have a heart attack and spend a few days in the hospital—but a student might actually jump off a building.

Shao Sui was in a good mood and proceeded to open two more cans of cat food for two days in a row.

The calico wolfed it down, its little head full of thoughts like “Did he win the lottery recently? Why is he suddenly so generous?” and “It’s easy to go from frugal to extravagant, but hard to go back—should I eat more sparingly?”

Shao Sui had no idea what was going on in the cat’s tiny brain, and continued working on his Excel spreadsheet, eventually printing out seven or eight pages categorized by type.

He didn’t move from his spot, just spun his chair around to face the cat.

The calico was no longer as wary as it had been in the beginning. Occasionally it would leave its spot on the bookshelf and come over to the floor-to-ceiling window to stare at the birds outside.

Like right now.

Shao Sui picked up the backscratcher nearby—given to him by Cheng Ke, who said it could effectively close the distance with a cat, wouldn’t get covered in fur, and wasn’t easy to get bitten through.

The calico had its back to Shao Sui, completely unaware of the approaching danger.

The moment the backscratcher touched it, the calico launched into the air like a rocket, performing a backflip on the spot. When it landed, still shaken, it let out a fierce, baby-like “hiss” at Shao Sui.

Shao Sui hadn’t expected such a big reaction and offered a completely insincere “sorry.”

“Looks like your broken bone is almost healed.”

“…”

“But your owner is still nowhere to be found.” Shao Sui propped his chin up and started bad-mouthing the cat’s owner. “What an irresponsible creature. How about I find you a new owner?”

“…”

“No, that won’t work either.” Shao Sui talked to himself. “Finding the original owner is the only way to get back the medical expenses… so I’ll wait a little longer.”

The calico turned around and pointed its butt at him again.

“Okra?”

“Rice cake.”

“Dingdang.”

“Cracker.”

“…”

The calico remained unmoved, watching the scenery, having no idea what this human was trying to do now.

Was he reciting a menu?

It didn’t like any of those.

“Milk?”

The calico’s ears twitched. A long time ago, when it was still free and carefree, a kind Cat God had fed it milk—though it seemed to have been goat’s milk.

Seeing that the cat wouldn’t even turn around, Shao Sui pulled out the category of names that were food items, switched to the next sheet, and continued calling out names, determined to find out this cat’s real name.

“Mimi” did sound a bit cloying, and Shao Sui had no intention of giving the cat a new name anyway. Setting aside the fact that the cat had such a temper and wouldn’t even acknowledge him, giving someone else’s cat a new name just didn’t make sense.

Naming was a very solemn matter. Once you gave a name, you had to take on the responsibility, and Shao Sui wasn’t ready to take on that responsibility yet.

“Luka?”

“Tutu?”

“Succulent?”

“…”

The calico finally realized that this human wanted to give it a name. In the past, it hadn’t had a proper name, and it didn’t really want one now either.

This human was too poor, living in such a small place, and even complaining about the price of canned food. Staying at his place might not even be better than eating on the streets.

So Shao Sui watched as the cat raised its uninjured paw to cover its ears, hung its head, and ignored him.

“Don’t want to listen? It wouldn’t actually be Mimi, would it?” Shao Sui commented. “Your owner really has no taste.”

The calico was covered in bandages, but its back still looked tough and aloof.

Given that ninety-nine percent of people called it Mimi when they saw it, in a way, that really was its name.

But no one could be its owner!

This cat was the Great Cat King, completely different from those other silly, cute types that only knew how to act cute and roll around. If anything, it was looking for servants.

Hmph.

Stupid and poor human.

“Actually called Mimi? That’s really hard to say out loud…” Shao Sui didn’t know how much longer this cat would be staying at his place. “How about changing the sound and the character? Mi… how about ‘Mimi’ (觅觅)?”

The calico gave a perfunctory, still-hoarse meow.

“Seeking and searching, with a falling tone—not bad.” Shao Sui expressed satisfaction. “I hope your owner finds you soon, and if they never do, I hope you can successfully find food out in the wild.”

Something about that struck a nerve with the Great Cat King, and it turned its head and “hissed” at Shao Sui.

Shao Sui let out a little “oh.” “Now you’re mad.”

Truth be told, Shao Sui had a bit of a mischievous streak in him by nature, it was just held back by his role as a teacher.

Mimi (觅觅) didn’t want to deal with this annoying guy, so it turned around, lifted its leg, and started licking its paw.

Shao Sui, having nothing better to do, commented, “It looks like a drumstick, but there’s too little meat—wouldn’t sell for a good price… You don’t have athlete’s foot, do you? Lick it less, if it spreads to your mouth I’ll have to spend more money.”

“…”

Mimi froze for a second, looked at its pink paw pads, then looked at Shao Sui’s glasses. It understood one thing—this human not only had bad eyesight, but also a problem with his sense of smell.

Don’t get angry with a disabled person.

Shao Sui mused, “Why are you only wearing two socks? Nothing on the front paws?”

Mimi’s coat was actually very evenly patterned—its two hind legs had fluffy two-tone “socks,” while the fur on its front legs connected to a neck ruffle, white as snow.

Shao Sui commented with an air of calm authority, “You haven’t changed those socks since you were little, have you? You dirty little cat.”

Mimi stared at Shao Sui for a moment, then lowered its head and went back to grooming. A cat destined for greatness had to learn patience.

Shao Sui used the backscratcher to brush the fur Mimi had just smoothed back up again. “You call that grooming? You’ve turned a perfectly nice fur coat into a mess—”

Mimi finally couldn’t take it anymore and swiped at Shao Sui with its paw: “Wow woof!!”

Shao Sui laughed as he got up and dodged the cat’s attack. “Why are you barking like a dog?”