Chapter Three: I'm About to Transform!

... Shu Ke Ju ...

Dong Yanyan hurriedly set down the washbasin and dashed up to the classroom on the second floor. This school, with only two or three hundred students, had just three buildings. The main building housed both the classrooms and dormitories. The first floor was for the girls' dormitory and a small library; the second floor was half girls' dorm, half classroom; the third floor was all classrooms; the fourth floor was the laboratory. Only on the fifth and sixth floors were the boys' dormitories, and at the far end of the sixth floor was a rather spacious ballroom. Parallel to this main building was the faculty building, a small three-story white structure. Opposite the faculty building stood the two-story cafeteria and hot water room.

The entire school was just this size, with a small sports field in the middle of the three buildings. The boys didn't play football, only basketball. After all, on that tiny field, a single kick could send the football straight to the school gate, and if it weren't for the main gate blocking it, it might fly right onto the street.

Fortunately, she managed to dash into the classroom just before the teacher arrived. The seats were already arranged: petite as she was, she sat in the very first row, her desk mate being Liu Qiang, with his small nose and eyes—he hadn't grown tall yet. Right now, he was smiling at Dong Yanyan in a friendly way. A woman in her fifties, short and stout with a stern gaze, entered the room. Dong Yanyan looked at her empty hands and realized she'd left her textbooks in the dormitory. But she wasn’t worried; just as expected, Liu Qiang pushed his book to the middle of the desk so they could share—exactly as she remembered.

The first class was mathematics. Dong Yanyan pressed her forehead: she had always hated math. Back then, her only amusement during math was listening to Teacher Yu point at the formulas on the blackboard and say, with utmost seriousness, "Everyone, pay attention, I’m about to transform!"

The class would burst into laughter.

The only ones not laughing were the teacher and Dong Yanyan. Sure enough, the teacher continued, sternly, "Listen well. Once you truly grasp it, you'll find solving a problem—"

"Even more satisfying than eating dumplings!" Dong Yanyan chimed in naturally. These two lines were the teacher's classic catchphrases, so much so that even years after graduation, her classmates remembered them vividly.

Hearing her, Teacher Yu's stern eyes flashed with excitement. "That’s right, student. What’s your name?"

A few black lines seemed to sprout from Dong Yanyan’s forehead. She stood up, smiling sheepishly. "Teacher, my name is Dong Yanyan." Great, she thought bitterly, nothing good ever comes from standing out.

"Alright then, please come to the front and solve this problem," Teacher Yu said kindly, handing her a piece of chalk.

Resigned, she walked to the blackboard, staring at the tadpole-like numbers and symbols, her mind a blank. She certainly didn’t think she could conjure up any solutions now—years of knowledge had long been returned to the teachers, and she hadn’t listened to a word of the current lesson. Turning slightly to shield herself from the teacher’s gaze, her eyes instinctively drifted to Xu Cheng, sitting in the back row. When in trouble, look for your husband! That was a habit she’d developed over many years.

She saw Xu Cheng propping his chin with his hand, a book hiding most of his face, nodding off. Seeing him like this, Dong Yanyan felt all hope fade: according to his old habits, this was exactly when he’d take a nap in class—though he looked awake.

Hesitantly, the chalk scratched the blackboard, her eyes searching for any possible clue.

In the front row, a boy with a broad, unremarkable face grinned at her roguishly, secretly propping up his notebook for her to see. This was Yang Xiaohai, once her best friend, though they’d lost touch after graduation. Now wasn’t the time for nostalgia—Dong Yanyan didn’t overthink, quickly copying what she saw. When the teacher’s gaze swept over, Yang Xiaohai furtively lowered his notebook, feigning innocence.

Halfway through the problem, she hesitated again. In the corner by the wall, a plump, round-faced little girl signaled to her, quietly propping up her textbook.

"Sweet little Yingying, I knew you were the best!" Dong Yanyan’s heart warmed—thank goodness her eyesight was still perfect, 20/20! She managed to make out the formulas and copied them down. Once she finished, she turned to the teacher with a flawless smile—an expression she’d perfected over years of professional life. If she were still the shy little girl she once was, her face would have turned scarlet by now.

The teacher nodded in satisfaction and let her return to her seat, then continued the lesson with renewed passion.

After three more lively classes, it was finally time for lunch break. The other students rushed off with their lunch boxes to the cafeteria, but Dong Yanyan once more found herself at the place of yesterday’s gathering: the hotel across from the school.

At the entrance, the hostess eyed the student-like girl with some arrogance. "Little student, who are you here to see?" She clearly didn't believe this skinny, childish-looking girl was here to dine.

Feeling a bit dejected, Dong Yanyan glanced down at her flat 32A chest, and with her height of less than one meter sixty and weight under eighty pounds, she could easily be mistaken for a grade schooler.

"Well, yesterday my classmates and I had a gathering here, and I think I left my keys. I wanted to come see if they were here," she lied casually.

The hostess glanced at her, impatience clear in her voice. "No one mentioned finding anything yesterday. Try looking somewhere else."

Dong Yanyan bristled. "What’s with that attitude? Call your manager!" Years of experience had taught her not to be cowed by people who judged by appearances—especially women like this, who had little education and relied solely on their pretty faces. Such people bullied the weak but feared the strong; this was a lesson she’d learned over more than a decade here.

Seeing her suddenly take such a forceful tone, and noticing her unyielding posture, the hostess grew hesitant. Dong Yanyan gave a cold snort, brushed past her, and went straight to find the front desk manager. The hostess, unsure what was going on, followed her into the lobby.

The front desk manager was a shrewd-looking woman in her thirties. Dong Yanyan walked right up to her and stated her purpose directly. "Sister, my classmates and I had a gathering here yesterday. I accidentally lost my keys—my dorm key and my locker key. My semester’s living expenses are in that locker, so if I can’t find them and someone else takes them, I’ll have lost everything."

"How could you be so careless, really. Which room were you in yesterday?" the manager scolded gently.

"Room 301."

"Come on, I’ll help you look," the manager said, leading her towards the stairs.

"Sister, I think I took the elevator yesterday. I’d like to check that way again," Dong Yanyan quickly interjected.

The manager paused, giving her a suspicious look. "Are you sure you lost your keys here? We only have three floors, there’s no elevator."

"Oh? Maybe I remembered wrong," Dong Yanyan replied vaguely, her mind racing to recall memories from fifteen years ago. She finally remembered—a row of high-rises had been built here two years ago, with hotels and bathhouses on the ground floor. Was the elevator she remembered installed years after this?

She made her way up to the third floor, expertly finding Room 301. The décor was still old-fashioned, though in those days, that had been the height of style. She searched the room thoroughly but found nothing amiss. She took the opportunity to stroll the corridor twice, but saw no sign of any elevator. Finding an excuse, she visited the second-floor restroom—it was just the same as yesterday.

... Shu Ke Ju ...