What did they want with her?
Su Yao was puzzled, but considering the last time she was called in was due to concerns about her mental health, this was probably something similar.
The thought gave her a headache. If the class advisor hadn’t been so nosy, she might not have gone through so many bizarre experiences. She could’ve stayed the invisible wallflower in the corner.
But from another angle, it made sense. A university class advisor—called a “class guide” for short—had to teach, manage discipline, and look after students’ mental health.
And the one thing they absolutely couldn’t let slip was mental health.
With news of student suicides all too common these days, any incident could drag the advisor into trouble. Naturally, they’d want to avoid that at all costs.
So, Zhang Li paid close attention to her students’ psychological well-being, and Su Yao was her prime target.
Low social engagement, uninvolved in class activities, family issues—she was the perfect candidate for concern, requiring constant check-ins and communication.
Su Yao understood, but it was still annoying…
Clutching her aching stomach, Su Yao walked down the hallway. The intermittent pain that started yesterday morning had finally lessened by today. Combined with her high pain tolerance, she managed to attend class as usual.
She’d considered taking sick leave but couldn’t come up with a good excuse. Besides, she didn’t dare tell the advisor she needed time off. One request, and they’d dig into the reason. Could she say it was because of her period?
Absolutely not!
Her ID still listed her as male, making her half-undocumented in a way.
At the first-floor faculty office, Su Yao knocked on the door. Hearing a “Come in,” she cautiously pushed it open, trying not to make a sound. Peeking inside and seeing only a few teachers, she let out a small sigh of relief.
Approaching Zhang Li’s desk, where the advisor was busy with lesson plans, Su Yao wondered how to dodge this conversation.
Zhang Li glanced at Su Yao’s face, frowning imperceptibly. Something felt off, but she couldn’t pinpoint what.
She gestured to a wooden stool. “Sit.”
Su Yao sat, eyes fixed on the floor, avoiding Zhang Li’s gaze.
“Su Yao, lift your head.”
Zhang Li sighed at the overly reserved student before her. She’d discussed this with colleagues and friends, but no one seemed to know how to make an introvert open up. She’d tried pairing her with Wang Jing, but that failed spectacularly—Wang Jing ended up depressed. Zhang Li couldn’t quite wrap her head around it.
Then, in a sudden moment of clarity, she realized trying to force an introvert to be outgoing was inherently contradictory. She’d been approaching it all wrong.
After consulting a psychology professor, Zhang Li had an epiphany.
Looking gently at the still-silent Su Yao, she softened her tone. “New Year’s is coming up, and the class will prepare a performance. It’s not guaranteed to be selected—it needs approval from the department—but I hope you’ll participate…”
Zhang Li explained her idea: Su Yao could join her classmates in the performance without a specific role. Even helping backstage, like handing out water, would do.
A breeze begins with a ripple, a wave from a subtle swell. Zhang Li hoped this New Year’s gala could be a small start.
Leaving the office, Su Yao exhaled heavily. Thankfully, the break was short, and Zhang Li didn’t say much. Noticing Su Yao’s pale face, she’d asked if she was unwell or needed a day off. Su Yao brushed it off, saying she’d just stayed up late and was fine—studying was the priority.
Zhang Li let her go after a brief reminder to rest.
But Su Yao couldn’t snag her usual quiet spot and had to share a desk. Luckily, her deskmate was a nerd, engrossed in his phone, oblivious to her presence.
Good, good.
With her body in a bleeding state, Su Yao tired easily and lacked energy. Listening to the lecture, she dozed off, only to be woken by a poke to her elbow.
Turning, she saw the nerd poking her with a pen. Already uncomfortable and now disturbed, she was furious. Combined with her irritability from lack of sleep, she shot him a death glare.
The nerd’s face flushed, suppressing excitement as he mumbled shyly, “Class is over. I need to use the bathroom… can you move?”
He asked cautiously, avoiding her eyes. Su Yao gave a cold smirk.
*Hmph, scared, huh?*
Not wanting to make a fuss, she stood to let him pass.
Yun Qing, returning from the bathroom, overheard two students whispering. She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but when they mentioned “Su Yao,” she slowed her pace, listening intently—her “big sister” had tasked her with keeping an eye on Su Yao.
“That Su Yao in our class, the quiet one who’s always alone, you know her?”
“We’re in the same class. Of course I know.”
“Well, she usually sits in the front corner. Got called by the advisor just now, don’t know what for. Now she’s sitting next to me.”
“Whoa, don’t grab my waist!” This came with a disdainful glance.
“I’m telling you, I smelled something bloody on her…”
Though hushed, the words were audible. The two stopped talking, likely noticing Yun Qing nearby. She ignored them, returned to the classroom, and glanced at Su Yao’s seat.
Su Yao, bundled up with a hat, was slumped over the desk, motionless.
All she wanted was for the last class to end so she could go home. She couldn’t stand being at school another second.
When the bell rang for lunch, Su Yao waited a few minutes before dragging herself up. The classroom was already empty. After a couple of steps, she felt something and hurried to the bathroom, clutching her books.
At the men’s restroom, she froze. Changing a pad there—if someone found a bloody one, it’d be scandalous. They’d probably film an episode of *Approaching Science*.
As she hesitated, a boy walked out, startled at the sight of her.
Her classmates might assume she was just a pretty boy, but to strangers, her femininity was obvious.
Panicked, Su Yao darted into the women’s restroom, heart racing. She locked herself in a stall—thankfully empty—reached into her pocket, and… huh?
*Where’s my stuff?*
Su Yao’s blood ran cold.