Chen Qingning suspected she'd been tricked by Yu Bei. The twenty-six letters at the beginning of the dictionary were nowhere near as easy as he'd described and demonstrated.
Sure, some could be understood by their shape—"V" was a peace sign, "W" was holding up three fingers, "J" was a hooked index finger… but others left her completely clueless.
When she got to "X," she was so bored she sent a sign-language selfie to her shut-in cousin: Domain expansion.
Shen Can: ?
Chen Qingning didn't bother replying.
The side effects of leaving a cliffhanger appeared quickly—within half an hour, Shen Minhua called, concerned about what was going on.
Chen Qingning held the dictionary cover up to her mom: I'm studying hard.
She took the opportunity to show off the sign for "mom."
Shen Minhua was intrigued: "What's that?"
Chen Qingning grandly introduced her upgraded, improved version of calling her mom: "It's the sign-language 'mommy,' but I added a flying kiss—double the love."
Shen Minhua laughed until her face turned red, deeply gratified: "I should screen-record this and send it to your dad."
Chen Qingning's desire to show off exploded: "Record it right now then."
After chatting nonsense with her mom, time had slipped to ten o'clock. Chen Qingning remembered the class meeting.
She glanced at the letters that had tortured her until she saw stars, decisively closed the book, opened Doubao, and typed in a command: Generate a few class meeting themes for me.
She thought for a moment, then added: Suitable for deaf and hard-of-hearing students.
Looking at the grand, flowery titles that kept popping up, Chen Qingning shielded her eyes from all the righteousness.
They were all harmless, but also utterly boring.
Her exaggerated movements and emotional swings were hard for Qu Xiao to ignore. After Chen Qingning's third groan of despair, Qu Xiao asked: "Why so emo?"
Chen Qingning's voice sounded like all the oxygen had been sucked out of it: "I'm thinking about the lesson materials."
Qu Xiao was also checking her own materials and was startled: "You're really doing a public class?"
"No, it's for Friday's class meeting."
Qu Xiao breathed a sigh of relief: "I thought you'd drugged Yu Bei or something."
Chen Qingning shot her a sideways glance and flipped her hair: "What drug, a love potion?"
Qu Xiao pretended she'd never said anything.
Chen Qingning locked onto Qu Xiao, left her seat, and crept behind her.
She moved as silently as a cat, until a warm hand gripped Qu Xiao's right shoulder and made her jump.
"What are you doing?"
Chen Qingning leaned over to monopolize her computer screen: "I'm here to learn from the master."
She looked at the PPT Qu Xiao was still polishing: "Did you make this?"
Qu Xiao paused for a beat: "Sort of…"
Chen Qingning frowned: "Hmm—?"
Qu Xiao felt guilty and coughed: "There are so many lessons, and if I had to make all of them from scratch, it'd be exhausting."
"Xiao'er," Chen Qingning covered her mouth: "You've completely overturned my understanding!"
"Stop looking at me like that!" Qu Xiao raised her voice: "There's hardly a teacher who doesn't use Seewo Whiteboard!"
"Seewo Whiteboard?" Chen Qingning latched onto the keyword.
—Completely useless.
Chen Qingning lay in bed, staring at the software until midnight. Even after listening to Qu Xiao's full introduction on how to use it, she still couldn't find a topic that made her eyes light up.
Besides, even safe content required a certain level of sign language proficiency.
She couldn't exactly hold up flashcards for forty minutes, or write on the board the whole time.
Some Chinese characters, she wasn't even sure she could write correctly. She didn't want to make a fool of herself and have Yu Bei look down on her.
Why did she care about Yu Bei's opinion anyway?
Would she become less perfect just because someone said something bad about her?
Of course not.
That wouldn't be Chen Qingning, the original lemon.
Lemon, fight for yourself.
Your life only has "I want it," never "I can't."
After a brief battle between her left and right brain, Chen Qingning fell into a deep sleep. The louder the slogan, the better the sleep.
Over the next two days, the special education school was in full swing preparing for the municipal supervision team's visit. Every classroom was cleaned spotless, most students were required to wear uniforms, and Qu Xiao even wore a rare ginger-yellow knit dress—knee-length, bright yet refined.
Chen Qingning cheered her on enthusiastically.
She also looked forward to seeing whether Yu Bei would dress up for the occasion.
The result was a major disappointment.
Teacher Yu looked no different from usual—still the stiff, dry outdoor jacket.
Black, navy, dark gray—the world's most stodgy colors, all swept up in one outfit.
Those who touch ink become black.
His OOTD choice was equally bland.
She pulled her sweater collar down a bit more and dragged herself to the office with little enthusiasm.
Her drooping mouth stayed that way until she saw the seat behind the desk—a chair and a stool standing side by side.
Probably to put on a good show, the plastic stool had been swapped for a round wooden one.
Where did they steal that from? Chen Qingning thought with a smile.
This time, she obediently sat on the round stool, playing the part to the fullest—after all, her persona was that of a fresh, clueless pretty-girl intern teacher.
She was the first to arrive at the office.
Yu Wenlei came next.
"Here so early?" The woman raised an eyebrow in surprise.
"Leading by example." Chen Qingning was determined to play the good girl role to the end.
Yu Wenlei pulled out her laptop and materials from her oversized tote bag: "Looks like Teacher Chen is the most cooperative with the inspection this time."
"Of course."
However, Yu Bei was not satisfied.
As the third person to arrive, he frowned the moment he walked in, his gaze catching on Chen Qingning's shoulder before returning to her face. "This is the one I picked?"
Chen Qingning's brow furrowed even deeper than his. "Yeah."
Yu Bei unlocked his phone to double-check, methodical and precise.
Chen Qingning pursed her lips, stifling a laugh.
How could a chunky knit sweater with such a thick, heavy collar expose so much shoulder?
Yu Bei compared the Chen Qingning standing below him with the outfit on his phone.
It was the same one.
Truly baffling.
The girl's face was puffed up like a hamster. Yu Bei asked, "Does this collar absolutely have to be pulled down?"
Chen Qingning placed both hands on her shoulders, explaining the style. "This is how it's meant to be worn. A boat neck—never seen one?"
Her shoulders were slim and narrow, but not frail, bearing the traces of long-term training.
Yu Bei only glanced once. "Pull it up."
Chen Qingning, channeling the green snake from Tsui Hark's film, defiantly tugged it down even further, adding one more inch of exposed skin.
Yu Bei's expression turned slightly annoyed, letting out a tsk.
Only then did Chen Qingning obediently pull it back up, dragging out a stool to make room for him.
Yu Bei didn't sit. "I'm not staying. I need to head to the classroom right away."
His words hit like peppermint oil—sharp and sobering. Chen Qingning looked up. "That fast? What about me?"
"You're going to the recording classroom."
Chen Qingning froze. "I'm going to the recording classroom?"
Yu Bei's tone was calm. "There's a leader who knows your father. He heard you were here and wants to say hello."
Chen Qingning knew the nature of open classes all too well.
Back in her early school years at a public school, whenever there was an open class, the teacher would either drill her with endless reminders or simply have her wait in the office, to prevent her sleep-demon tendencies from causing a mid-lesson mishap.
This morning's exercises were much more regimented, with a flag-raising ceremony added.
Some of the children grew restless, scratching their heads and fidgeting under the sun, squatting and standing repeatedly.
Everyone held on.
Through the window of the observation room, Chen Qingning spotted the bright yellow of Qu Xiao and the upright figure of Yu Bei.
Also the older hearing-impaired class kids—Ge Lingxi still stood third in line, with a very spirited high ponytail.
Chen Qingning took it all in, the warm air from the air conditioner overhead blowing steadily. She found herself oddly distracted—had the morning exercises always been this long?
The leader who had specifically asked to see her was surnamed Shao, personally introduced by Principal Lin.
Outside the recording classroom door, Principal Lin gave a concise introduction of Chen Qingning and her situation as a newcomer to the special education school.
The man in the black jacket studied her, nodding repeatedly.
The younger one beside him was probably his secretary, who asked with a smile, "So this is Mr. Chen's daughter?"
Chen Qingning wasn't surprised. Her father's connections spanned every corner of the world.
When the man explained himself, everything fell into place. He was an old acquaintance of her father's—when Chen Yu'en had returned to his hometown in glory, this man had pointed the way, and he'd been contributing ideas and efforts to local education ever since.
Chen Qingning called him "Uncle Shao," because he took even worse care of himself than Chen Yu'en did.
She was seated beside him, in the front row.
The observation area had two rows of tables and chairs, and it filled up in no time. Nearly identical dark jackets and collared shirts, like the samey topics generated by last night's doubao.
Late-arriving teachers from the academic affairs office had no seats left, so Principal Lin fetched empty chairs from the corner for them.
Through the half-wall of transparent glass, the full classroom was visible.
The older hearing-impaired students filed in one by one.
The one with the inverted-triangle face was Sun Zhiliang.
The one with thick, bushy eyebrows was Li Mingzhe.
The little one was Zhang Qihang.
The cutest was Ge Lingxi.
Another short-haired girl was Tian Kexin.
The chubby one was Liang Haoran.
The tallest, dark-skinned boy was Xu Yi.
Chen Qingning stood up and saluted, goosebumps all over. She remembered them—remembered them perfectly! In just one night, she could match every single one!
She wanted to burst out of the recording room, charge into the classroom just one wall away, and call out each person's name to redeem herself!
Chen Qingning held herself in place.
Behind the podium, Yu Bei methodically adjusted the microphone, checked the projected slides, and finally wrote the lesson title on the board: The White Poplar.
Chen Qingning scoffed inwardly: Yu Bei, so you're coasting on old material too.
The class bell hadn't rung yet, and most students sat upright and proper, with one or two occasionally turning back to peek, though Yu Bei didn't call them out.
Perhaps because she hadn't spotted Chen Qingning, Ge Lingxi turned around.
Chen Qingning gave her a small wave, regretting that she hadn't learned how to sign "good luck" beforehand.
The girl's expression was slightly puzzled, and the moment their eyes met, she quickly turned back around.
Yu Bei's teaching was nearly flawless, and so was the students' performance. Every leader held a piece of paper, diligently taking notes and making checkmarks.
Chen Qingning pressed down on her notebook, letting the pen tip dent a small pit into the paper.
It was strange. In earlier years, when she'd been summoned to the office and played on her phone against the rules, she'd always scoffed at these showcase-style lessons.
But today, sitting in the "VIP" viewing seat, she felt oddly restless.
She shifted uncomfortably, looking at the classroom, then at the synchronized electronic screen up high, back and forth.
Yu Bei and the students were compressed into the screen, while she seemed to be behind a shop window.
Principal Lin sat beside her, his form resting on the corner of the table, glancing and writing, fully absorbed.
Chen Qingning swept a glance at him—so Principal Lin was already going bald, the scalp faintly visible at his crown.
She called out softly, "Uncle Lin."
The older man's hearing was still sharp; he tilted his face toward her. "Hm? What is it, Xiao Chen."
Chen Qingning asked directly, "Why am I not in the classroom?"
Principal Lin paused briefly, then slowly smiled. "For open classes in the hearing-impaired program, there's usually just one teacher lecturing. It's only the special education classes that might have an additional teaching assistant."
Chen Qingning made a soft "mm" sound and pressed her lips together.
She looked toward Yu Bei from afar.
Revisiting the familiar "father," "son," "daughter," "tall and sturdy."
Principal Lin glanced at her. "What's wrong? Want to join the class too?"
Chen Qingning didn't hide it. "Yeah." She was also a teacher for the upper-level hearing-impaired classes—why was she sitting here?
Principal Lin asked again, "What do you want to do there?"
Chen Qingning was stumped. "I don't know."
Chen Qingning didn't know.
But she was very clear—she didn't want to be separated by this pane of glass anymore.
"If you want to go, then go." Principal Lin encouraged her plainly.
Chen Qingning was startled. "Really?"
Principal Lin raised his voice and consulted with the leaders in the recording room. "Teacher Chen is a trainee teacher for the upper-level hearing-impaired classes. She'd like to personally participate in the class. On her behalf, I'd like to ask everyone—is that alright?"
Uncle Shao was the first to respond. "Of course it's fine."
Several teachers chuckled along, and some nodded:
"Nothing like a young teacher's enthusiasm. A good thing."
"Great—the kids will be happy too."
Chen Qingning's eyes widened as she confirmed once more. "Even if I don't know what I can do?"
Principal Lin said, "How could you not know? You want to be part of the class."
"Go on."
It really was nice having a rich dad.
Privilege had placed her behind the glass.
It also granted her permission to push the door open.
Yu Bei noticed the commotion in the recording room. His gaze swept past briefly, then he continued teaching with an unchanged expression.
But his peripheral vision no longer strayed far from the window frame. The girl came dashing over with reckless directness, and just as he almost wondered if she had a bathroom emergency, the door was knocked.
Yu Bei's signing came to an abrupt halt.
Nothing Chen Qingning did could surprise him anymore.
Yu Bei signed "one moment," then stepped down from the podium to open the door.
The classroom stirred with excitement.
Before Yu Bei could speak, Chen Qingning ducked her head and whispered urgently, "How do you sign 'cheer up'? Tell me quick!"
How was he supposed to tell her that?
Yu Bei didn't put his head together with hers. He expressed it on her behalf.
His voice was clear and distinct, and he also translated it into sign: "Teacher Chen wants to sit in on the class with you all, to cheer you on."
The kids froze, then burst into applause, even though they could barely hear it themselves.
Chen Qingning grinned foolishly too, raising a big "thank you" in sign language.
Behind the observation window, laughter spread—some warm, some encouraging, some just enjoying the show.
Before heading back to the podium, Yu Bei said in a low voice, "There are no extra seats in the classroom."
Chen Qingning scoffed, still beaming at the students. "Is standing some kind of difficult position?"
"Go to the back."
"Roger that." Chen Qingning made a salute gesture, not forgetting to flash a wink. "Teacher Yu's rear—I'll guard it well."
She smiled as she wove through the aisles, facing the many eyes behind the glass, as if she was born to walk forward under people's gaze like this.
Principal Lin gave her a thumbs up.
At the same time, Yu Bei's warm, steady reading rose from behind her:
"Suddenly, a faint smile appeared at the corner of his mouth, because he saw that on the right side of the train's direction of travel,"
"beside a tall white poplar tree, several saplings were growing up against the wind and sand…"