The first day of the third mock exam, Chinese language.
Mianmian entered the exam hall, found her seat, and sat down, arranging her stationery neatly.
The invigilator happened to be her class’s English teacher, Teacher Hu.
Teacher Hu stood behind the podium, wearing a loose, light-blue floral maternity dress with a bow tied at the collar. Her belly was large, and she stood slightly turned to the side, one hand supporting her waist while the other unsealed the exam papers.
She looked up and happened to meet Mianmian’s gaze, smiling.
The smile was gentle and soft, and she even nodded slightly at Mianmian.
Mianmian nodded back, and suddenly felt a sense of calm. She relaxed, leaning back in her chair, waiting for the papers to be distributed.
Teacher Hu slowly walked to the front of the podium, holding onto the table for support.
“Students, today is the third mock exam, the last major practice exam before the college entrance exam. Don’t be nervous, just treat it like any other practice session.” Her voice was still as gentle as ever, though she spoke slowly, pausing frequently to catch her breath. “Now, I will read out the exam rules…”
Mianmian listened to her voice, but her thoughts drifted away.
Teacher Hu…
When Mianmian was in her first year of high school, Teacher Hu had just graduated. At twenty-two years old, she had been assigned directly to this high school after graduating from teacher’s college.
On the first day of school, she stood on the podium introducing herself, wearing a white blouse with a long skirt, her hair tied in a ponytail. Her face was flushed, and her voice was delicate, trembling slightly.
“I… my surname is Hu. You can call me Teacher Hu. I just graduated, so I might not have much experience, but I’ll do my best.”
The boys in the class started teasing her.
“Teacher, how old are you?”
“Teacher, do you have a boyfriend?”
“Teacher, your face is red!”
Teacher Hu stood on the podium, flustered and unsure how to respond.
Mianmian, as the class representative, often went to the office to hand in homework and would chat with Teacher Hu. Teacher Hu also liked talking to her, asking about the class and how the students felt about her teaching.
Mianmian would tell Teacher Hu which topics could be taught faster, which parts could use more examples, and when group discussions could be helpful.
Teacher Hu listened carefully, took notes, and actually made changes in her next class.
At the start of the second year, Teacher Hu changed.
When the students were focused on their work, she would sometimes gaze out the window, lost in thought, a sweet smile curling at the corners of her lips as she secretly chuckled.
Later, Mianmian noticed that every day after school, a white car would be parked at the school gate. A tall man leaned against the car, dressed in a shirt and trousers, looking refined and scholarly, waiting for Teacher Hu to come out.
As soon as Teacher Hu saw him, her face would flush, and she would hurry over. He would take her bag and open the car door for her.
“He works at the district education bureau!” Jin Man gossiped. “I heard he’s a section chief!”
Not long after, Teacher Hu got married.
When she returned to work after her wedding leave, she was dressed head to toe in bright red—a red sweater, a red skirt, and red leather shoes.
Her sweet, apple-like face was also flushed with happiness.
When she came to class, she even handed out wedding candies to the students, her eyes curved into crescents as she smiled.
At the start of the third year, Teacher Hu’s belly began to grow.
At first, it was just noticeable that she had stopped wearing fitted dresses and switched to loose sweatshirts.
Later, her belly became impossible to hide, growing day by day. She switched to dark-colored stretchy skirts, then to gray yoga pants paired with loose shirts.
The shirt always refused to stay tucked in, hanging in front of her belly and pushed up high.
Mianmian’s eye level aligned with her third button, right at the position of her navel, which was stretched taut. The fabric folds radiated outward from there, like a miniature sun.
Her hands were pale, with distinct knuckles. When she rested them on the edge of the desk, the blue veins on her wrists stood out, thin like rivers on a map.
When she walked past Mianmian, Mianmian could smell her scent.
Not perfume, but laundry detergent, with a hint of milky sweetness. Warm and soft, like sun-dried blankets.
Teacher Hu stood in the aisle explaining a problem, her side facing Mianmian. That enormous belly was only a few centimeters away from Mianmian’s arm. Mianmian didn’t dare turn her head, only stealing glances from the corner of her eye.
The light gray maternity pants were made of stretchy fabric, tightly hugging that round, full outline. The belly pulled the waistband low, revealing two narrow strips of skin on either side of her waist, so pale they seemed to glow. At the navel, a small bulge pushed the fabric into a tiny peak.
Mianmian wondered, what did it feel like to have an outie navel? Did it itch when it rubbed against clothes? Did water get in during showers?
She also wanted to know what that belly felt like to the touch.
Was it hard or soft? Warm or cool?
Of course, she didn’t dare touch it.
But sometimes when Teacher Hu passed by, that belly would gently brush against her shoulder. Through two layers of clothing, Mianmian could feel its warmth, heavy and substantial, like a living thing.
Teacher Hu’s chest had grown larger too.
Sometimes when Teacher Hu turned sideways to write on the blackboard, Mianmian could see the curve of her profile. Her belly pushed forward, her back arched slightly backward, the curve extending from her chest down to her waist and then to her hips—a complete, fluid line.
Her buttocks had grown fuller too.
The maternity pants hugged tightly, and from behind, they looked like two round, plump halves, swaying gently as she walked.
Once, when Teacher Hu bent over to pick up a piece of chalk, Mianmian’s heart raced so fast she didn’t dare look, quickly lowering her head to take notes.
Sometimes, Mianmian watched her standing at the podium, one hand holding the textbook, the other unconsciously dropping to gently stroke her belly, as if soothing it or saying hello.
The gesture was graceful, carrying a quality Mianmian couldn’t quite describe.
She really wanted to know what it felt like to be touched like that.
It must be warm, comforting.
At night, lying in bed, Mianmian placed her hand on her own belly, closed her eyes, and imagined it slowly swelling.
Little by little, like blowing up a balloon, like dough rising, like something growing inside.
Bigger and bigger, heavier and heavier, pushing up her pajamas, lifting the blanket.
She thought, if only she could have one someday too.
Mianmian also liked secretly sketching her with her big belly in her notebook.
When Teacher Hu saw it, she didn’t get angry, just smiled and never said a word.
She really had such a gentle temper.
In recent weeks, Teacher Hu’s belly had grown frighteningly large.
Mianmian didn’t know what others thought, but she found that belly truly beautiful.
Full, pushing forward.
Sometimes, while standing and lecturing, Teacher Hu would suddenly pause, press a hand to her belly, and frown slightly.
Then Mianmian would see a small bulge appear on her belly.
Here a bump, there a bump, moving around.
Mianmian was mesmerized.
Later, Teacher Hu began sitting down to teach.
Her ankle was swollen, so she couldn’t wear leather shoes and had to wear cloth shoes instead.
Her feet were spread wide apart as she walked—not close together, but splayed out like a penguin. Her belly was too heavy, and she had to lower her center of gravity to move safely around the classroom.
After standing and teaching for a while, she would pant, pausing to catch her breath before continuing.
Her face was swollen too.
Her once sharp chin had rounded out, and her eyelids were slightly puffy, making her eyes appear smaller. But her gaze remained bright, carrying a gentle, charming smile.
During the break, Mianmian went to the office to hand in her homework and saw Teacher Hu bent over, leaning on the desk, clutching her stomach, softly groaning, “Ouch, ouch.”
She stood at the door, unsure whether to enter.
Teacher Hu looked up, saw her, and immediately straightened up. Her face was still sweaty, but she was already smiling.
“Mianmian? Come in, are you handing in your homework?” Her voice was still a little breathless, but she was holding it back.
Mianmian walked in, placed the homework on the desk, and asked, “Teacher, are you about to give birth?”
Teacher Hu smiled. “Soon, soon.”