Chapter 1: One Dimension 2/2

There was even a cute smiling face at the end.

Song Fuzhi glanced at the message, locked the screen, and chalked on the blackboard, “Are you all finished?”

The bell for the end of class rang, and a test paper was just finished. The students visibly breathed a sigh of relief.

Song Fuzhi, carrying his things, walked outside. When he reached the door, he paused for a moment, lightly calling a name, “Fan Tong, come out.”

The atmosphere, which had just relaxed, tensed up again.

The footsteps and voices of students from other classes echoed in the corridor, making their class seem particularly quiet.

Fan Tong had been on edge the entire class. Every movement and glance from Teacher Song sent shivers down his spine. He nervously endured the entire class, not absorbing a single bit of the content.

The sword had been hanging over his head for forty-five minutes, and now it finally fell. Fan Tong, under the silent gaze of the entire class, walked to the door. In just a few meters, cold sweat formed on his back.

Outside the door, Song Fuzhi said only two sentences.

The first was, “Although the book was taken, you still need to listen carefully in class. There are questions on this test that you shouldn’t have gotten wrong.”

The second was, “Come to my office to get the book on Friday.”

His tone remained calm, without any hint of reprimand, but Fan Tong was still nervous and sweating and dared not even lift his head.

Song Fuzhi didn’t have time to talk more with him; he just said, “You can go,” and walked to the next class. He still had another class to teach.

This semester, Song Fuzhi was very busy, with the teacher from the neighboring class on maternity leave. The school lacked teaching staff, so he had to teach math for two classes and serve as a homeroom teacher for one class. He often worked from early morning to late at night, with hardly any time to rest.

Fortunately, it was only the first year of high school, so he could manage.

After finishing the class in the neighboring class, Song Fuzhi hurriedly had a meal and went to the grade group meeting, followed by the math group meeting. In the afternoon, he prepared lessons, graded assignments, answered several calls from parents for a long time, and watched the students in the class finish cleaning.

When he finally had a moment to catch his breath, it was already evening.

Song Fuzhi bought food in the cafeteria and returned to the office to eat. Other teachers gradually packed up and left, chatting while doing so, relaxed and happy.

Teacher Zhou, who taught physics, was an easy-going, bald man. He tightened the lid of his thermos, sighed, and said, “Mr. Song hasn’t left yet.”

Song Fuzhi put down his chopsticks, smiled, and said, “I’ll leave after the evening self-study.”

“Go back early.” A female teacher smiled, her eyebrows and eyes curved. “Your family must be anxious if you’re late again.”

She deliberately emphasized the word “family.”

Several “Oh” sounds were heard in the office, and even those who were about to step out the door stopped. Curious gazes were unabashedly directed at Song Fuzhi.

The cheerful female teacher directly asked, “Teacher Song, how is it going with that kid? Any progress?”

Song Fuzhi took a few seconds to react, realizing she was asking about Qiao Xuyang. He smiled and shook his head. “Nothing special.”

The group obviously didn’t believe him and sneered, “Mr. Song, don’t deceive us!”

Song Fuzhi’s tone became a bit indifferent: “Really, there’s nothing.”

His voice sounded somewhat cold.

The office fell silent for a moment, and the teachers didn’t continue gossiping. They bid their farewells, talking and laughing, and dispersed.

The nickname “Song Huaxian” was given to him because some days ago, Song Fuzhi received a large bouquet of vibrant red roses, so abundant that it could cover a person entirely.

The flowers were a gift from Qiao Xuyang, who was Song Fuzhi’s recent blind date.

He was 26 years old, a fairly young and handsome guy with a short, clean haircut, a slender figure, and two dimples when he smiled—a highly sought-after “puppy” type.

Qiao Xuyang was also pushed by his family to meet potential matches. Despite his reluctance, he attended the blind date and unexpectedly became infatuated with Mr. Song at first sight. He called and texted every day, pursuing her like a high school student, employing various romantic tactics.

However, after having dinner with him, Song Fuzhi realized that they weren’t compatible. Qiao Xuyang was too enthusiastic, clingy, and lively, needing constant companionship. Song Fuzhi was busy with work and couldn’t meet the emotional needs of Qiao Xuyang.

Song Fuzhi made it clear that they weren’t suitable. However, the young man was unwilling to give up and resorted to sending flowers to Song Fuzhi’s office.

At that time, Song Fuzhi was chatting with other teachers when a delivery guy arrived with a loud proclamation, “Teacher Fuzhi, your flowers are here!”

This caused a commotion in the office, with teachers gathering like high school students, excitedly watching the scene unfold.

Song Fuzhi lightly frowned, wrote his name on the receipt, and remained silent. He didn’t want the flowers but couldn’t justify sending them back.

The delivery guy handed the roses to him, but Song Fuzhi didn’t touch them. Instead, he gestured to the side, indicating that the guy should place the flowers on his desk.

The next day, the flowers on Mr. Song’s desk were gone.

Other teachers thought that Song Fuzhi took the flowers home to care for them, but that wasn’t the case. That night, Song Fuzhi took the flowers and returned them to Qiao Xuyang, freshly received.

He put the flowers on the ground and spoke directly, “Stop messing around; it’s useless.”

When Song Fuzhi spoke in such a tone, it always felt cold and piercing. Although he was usually polite and would smile, when you tried to get close to him, you’d realize the distance was always there.

Afterward, Qiao Xuyang toned down a bit and didn’t appear for two weeks. When everyone almost forgot about him, he started calling and messaging again.

This time, he invited Song Fuzhi to an exhibition.

Unfortunately, the invitation was as good as not sent because Song Fuzhi was very busy that day. He forgot about the morning message.

He forgot the message, but not other things.

On his desk lay the manga book seized earlier that day.

Song Fuzhi quietly glanced at the cover for a couple of seconds, smiled faintly, and placed the book in a drawer, his treasure trove.

With just a glance in the morning, Song Fuzhi recognized the plot and frames. He had already finished reading this chapter, and it was too familiar.

The scene in “Ceiling of Battle Power” was explosively handsome, and Song Fuzhi watched it four or five times.

He also heard the girls in the class talking about “the ceiling of the combat power of Mr. Octopus cosplay”. He had seen that set of pictures a long time ago and had looked at it many times.

Mr. Octopus is currently Song Fuzhi’s favorite cosplayer. If he wasn’t a class teacher and if he were ten years younger, he might spend the night chatting with the girls.

Today wasn’t the day for math evening self-study, but he was used to stopping by the class before going off duty.

It happened to be the end of the first self-study session, and the open-style teaching building was enveloped in a thin layer of night. A few students were leaving, casting shadows.

Several students were chatting at the classroom door, leaning against the railing, facing the corridor. These were the same students who were discussing manga in the morning.

Song Fuzhi passed by them, not intentionally eavesdropping, but their voices were too loud, and their conversation was too engaging. Every word reached Song Fuzhi’s ears clearly.

“Hey, Fan Tong, did Mr. Fu Zi take the manga and not return it?”

“He said he would return it on Friday, but I have to go to his office to get it. I’d rather give it to him. I don’t want to go to his office!”

“I was halfway through reading it, and now I really want to know what happens next.”

The girl chuckled. “By the way, I suddenly have a bold idea—doesn’t Teacher Song seem suitable to cosplay the Ceiling of Battle Power? His physique and gaze are on point, cool and aloof. Don’t you think so?”

“Think my ass!” Fan Tong immediately rolled his eyes. “Can Song Fuzhi know what cos is? At most, he knows cos^2x+sin^2x=1!”

Song Fuzhi walked past them, didn’t stop his steps, and just slightly raised the corner of his lips.