Chapter 75: Mr. Tree

Disciplinary Record, parent summoned.

For most kids, this would mean shame, but for Su Mu, she just didn’t want to be left sitting in the office all day again.

Even if the leather sofa there was much more comfortable than the hard benches, all that awaited her were the passing teachers teasing and ridicule.

Teachers—men and women, some with wrinkled skin, some still with youthful faces—would all pay special attention as they walked by to the child sitting blankly by the door.

At first, a few thought maybe she wasn’t feeling well, but soon everyone heard the real story.

After all, it was a rare bit of gossip in the dull teaching routine.

A kid who wanted to dress outlandishly, with two parents completely out of touch.

The Office was far from peaceful, and Su Mu’s sharp ears kept catching her own name from the teachers’ conversations.

Once, she had longed for attention, but now, every time she was mentioned, her toes curled tighter inward; every time a passing teacher called her name and she looked up, she’d bury her head even deeper when she looked down again.

What bound her so tightly to that sofa was an almost fatal embarrassment.

She just couldn’t act carefree and brazen like those kids who could still swagger after being called out to stand as punishment—after all, she was just an utterly ordinary child.

As expected, she waited until school was over and still no savior came.

She could only return alone to the empty Classroom, tidying up the mess of papers on her desk, looking for the exercise book with “Su Mu” written on the cover, then swinging her backpack as she walked along the river back home.

Even now, at eighteen, just seeing those glaring words “Disciplinary Record” in the school rules made her freeze for nearly half a minute before she could break free from that damned trauma.

A damp sensation crept up from the back of her neck, making Su Mu instinctively touch her nape.

It felt as if she was wrapped in a sweat-soaked scarf—this sensation came from outside.

Truly suffocating.

Staring at the red letters welded to the iron plate, Su Mu suddenly felt a rebellious urge.

If only she could smash it to pieces.

But if she did, it would probably lead to an even more serious Disciplinary Record.

Sigh.

Su Mu glanced at the electronic clock by the School Gate, and her heart clenched.

[1: 32: 34]

It was already two and a half minutes past the start of the first afternoon class, which meant she had just as much time left to change into her uniform and dash from here to the fifth floor of the Teaching Building.

Maybe in reality she could pull it off—after all, she wasn’t an ordinary person anymore—but in the dream, her physical ability seemed suppressed back to the version of herself who’d be gasping for breath after just a hundred meters.

No time left!

Su Mu hurriedly took out her Handheld Console and issued the command to change clothes.

In the next moment, her outfit was replaced in a flash of white light by a dated blue-and-white sports school uniform.

The next second, she dashed through the School Gate, struggling up the steps under the astonished gaze of the gatekeeper.

The instant she passed through that invisible barrier, the once-empty Campus suddenly filled with scattered, blurry figures—familiar yet indistinct, as if they were just part of the scenery.

But Su Mu didn’t have time to worry about any of that.

Grabbing the stair railing, she used both hands and feet to propel herself toward the Classroom.

She didn’t know what grade she was supposed to be in now, but her intuition told her the destination was on the fifth floor.

Two floors left—one floor.

Su Mu’s stamina was running out.

The feeling was strange in a dream, but she didn’t have the luxury to dwell on it; she could only suppress her breathlessness and the blackness at the edge of her vision by counting the number of steps she climbed.

She was sweating even more, and the suffocating sensation at the back of her neck was getting worse, making her increasingly uncomfortable.

Almost there—she should make it—

Her arm was suddenly yanked, nearly making Su Mu stumble.

As she looked over in irritation at the person, her heart went cold.

That short man in a suit—she could never forget him, not even in death.

Dark skin, suit and tie, those hawk-like eyes full of intimidation—he should have been a fearsome presence.

But he was just too short, even shorter than Su Mu.

Yet at this moment, that stocky frame burst with unbelievable strength, stopping Su Mu in her tracks with a single pull.

The grade director, Mr. Tree.

The name Mr. Tree didn’t match his appearance at all, but the funny thing was, his username online was also “Tree,” so the students all called him Mr. Tree.

Of course, most people who’d suffered under him called him “Root Two” to mock his height.

Still, when he stopped you, you had to obediently call him Teacher Liang.

“Hey, where have you been?”

Pinned by those sharp, hawk-like eyes, maybe because she’d just been running wildly, Su Mu’s legs started to go weak, and she had to grip the railing to steady herself.

“Uh, just went to the restroom.”

Helpless, Su Mu could only pull out the all-purpose lie.

Other teachers might have doubted her, but Mr. Tree was different—his focus was always off from everyone else’s.

“Hmph.”

He snorted, releasing Su Mu, but that didn’t mean he planned to let her go.

On the contrary, this was just the start of his lecture.

“I often wonder if you kids are secretly snorting powder. I’ve heard that after snorting it, your bladder capacity drops from three hundred milliliters to fifty.”

Su Mu was stunned by Mr. Tree’s words.

Was it because he was a chemistry teacher?

No, it must be just him.

He really didn’t seem normal.

But now she didn’t have time to waste with this guy.

She had to get to the classroom, only a few meters away, as fast as possible.

Back then, she wouldn’t have dared even think of shaking him off, but this was her dream—she wasn’t about to let some illusion mess things up.

[Degree of Immersion: 15%]

Su Mu shook off Mr. Tree’s hand and sprinted toward the classroom.

Almost as soon as she turned, the man’s furious shout rang out behind her, but Su Mu was no longer the timid little mouse who feared teachers.

She was now part of the college student crowd, a group even more authoritative, and got along with teachers better than ever.

Pushing open the door, the moment she crossed the threshold into the classroom, the angry shouting and buzzing behind her vanished in an instant, as if nothing had happened.

That’s right—the classroom in the second layer of the dream was an isolated space, and once she stepped in, everything outside temporarily collapsed.

However, the Classroom, Campus, and Office—these deeply imprinted memory spots—were tightly linked in the dream.

The passageways between them were relatively fixed, so Su Mu wouldn’t end up in some strange place when she left.

As Su Mu burst in, the noise in the classroom abruptly stopped.

Everyone turned dumbly to look at her, including the teacher.

But Su Mu was too busy leaning on the doorframe, gasping for breath, to care about any of that for now.

“Uh, student, who are you?”