After staring at Su Mu for two seconds, the teacher’s first reaction wasn’t to scold her, but to ask who she was.
Probably only Su Mu would get such treatment.
No matter the situation, she always blended perfectly into the crowd, never leaving any impression.
She was habitually ignored, habitually forgotten.
Although Su Mu’s looks were quite distinctive among the boys, most people didn’t care about her gender, just treating her as a rather cute girl.
Even in P.E. class, she was always assigned to the girls’ side, but even if she sneaked away, no one ever noticed.
In a sense, her poor physical fitness was also because of this: afraid of P.E. class because of her lack of fitness, she’d run away midway through class → her body never got any training.
Anyway, no one cared about things like this, so it didn’t really matter.
But thinking of Luo Jialan, who always dragged her to train her fitness, Su Mu silently added in her heart
At least, that’s how it used to be.
“I’m Su Mu. Just now, Mr. Liang called me out to help him with something.”
Su Mu calmly continued to mess with Mr. Tree, since there was no way he could jump out now and prove she was lying.
That’s right, us college students can always make up all sorts of wild and flowery excuses when we’re late or skipping class.
“Oh, all right then. Take your seat for now, but remember to let us know in advance next time.”
After searching his memory for a moment, the teacher vaguely recalled there seemed to be a student named Su Mu, so he just perfunctorily let her sit back down.
Su Mu hopped her way between the gaps of the desks, careful not to knock over anyone’s books on either side.
Even after so many years, the habit was still branded deep in her mind.
No one looked up at her again, which made her breathe a sigh of relief, yet she also felt a strange touch of melancholy.
If only Ye Wanqing were sitting here too, she might have sneakily smacked her butt as she passed by, or quietly stuck a Heart-to-Heart tissue seal sticker on her back.
But how could things like that possibly happen?
Su Mu mocked herself inwardly, silently sitting down in that familiar empty seat.
The sound of students reading aloud gradually filled the room again, scattered and uneven.
Su Mu shook her head and mumbled along for a few lines.
“Playing with fire on the kang late at night…”
‘Am I really going to have to sit here for forty-five minutes and listen to her finish teaching this class?’
“You’re silly, little Su Mu. If you remember this class so clearly, it means there must be some important memory point in the middle.”
Exploring the Second-Layer Dreamscape isn’t as simple as just entering a new area.
You have to try to light up as many memory points as possible, just like when Su Mu touched those objects in Ning Xi’s Dream World.
‘That makes sense.’
Listening to Irina, Su Mu nodded thoughtfully, then continued reciting along.
At this moment, the class monitor had almost finished handing out the answer sheets from the last test.
Luckily, Su Mu had just made a scene, or else she probably wouldn’t have found the owner of that test paper.
“All right, today we’re going over the monthly exam papers, everyone take yours out—”
She remembered.
Su Mu looked at the gradually fading Chinese test paper and turned it directly to the back, to the Ancient Text Translation Question.
“People love their dogs, and the dog once niaoniao-ed…”
Here it is.
This was a translation with an oddly comical answer.
The passage they had just read clearly wasn’t from the same class as when they went over this test paper, but because of the Dream World, the two were strung together.
The linking agent was that same character, “niao”.
Yes, although it usually means “drown,” here it meant “niaoniao.”
Most students would find it impossible to make the connection—not just because it was a tricky test point, but mainly because inserting something like “niaoniao” into an ancient text translation was just so bizarre.
Yet Su Mu was one of the rare few who got it right, because of the phrase, “Playing with fire and niaoniao-ing on the kang late at night.”
Logically, this should have been something to be happy about, but when Su Mu remembered it, there wasn’t a trace of a smile on her face.
People who really want to win don’t have smiles on their faces.
In truth, for Su Mu, this was an unpleasant farce.
“Class, although I haven’t finished grading the scores, I’ve already worked out the answers. Let’s go over these questions together, all right?”
In just a split second, the teacher’s words became increasingly fuzzy.
The only clear sentence Su Mu heard next was:
“All right, let’s look at the translation question. The first one—everyone can see this sentence, right? Doesn’t it feel strange? Did anyone figure out what ‘niao’ means here?”
Except for Su Mu, everyone else naturally doubted the answer.
After all, using “drown” here didn’t make sense.
Knowing the answer, Su Mu felt conflicted inside.
After taking a deep breath, she still raised her hand.
Just like she had done before—only this time, she raised it straighter, more decisively.
“Su Mu, very good. Do you know how this character should be translated?”
“It means niaoniao.”
As soon as she said this, all the eyes on her curved with amusement, including the teacher’s.
That’s right—even though the teacher had written the answer herself with the test paper over her head, she hadn’t gotten it right.
The problem was, as a Chinese teacher for so many years, she was confident in her own answer, so when she heard this reasonable yet absurd answer, she couldn’t help but laugh dryly.
“Haha, how could that be? The character means this…”
The laughter of the class surged like a tide, drowning Su Mu, making her feel a sudden chill and the urge to bury her head in her desk box.
She had finally found a chance to gain a little confidence…
‘I really was right, wasn’t I?’
[Degree of Immersion: 20%]
Su Mu couldn’t really remember the details of the teacher’s explanation afterward—it was just a forced justification.
What she remembered most clearly was standing at the back of the Classroom, being stared at and ridiculed by everyone.
Yet, even knowing this would be the outcome, Su Mu wouldn’t choose to back down, because she was right.
It was just that she never had the courage to question or resist before.
‘So now, should I just confront her directly and tell her she’s wrong?’
“Either way. You’ve already successfully lit up this memory point. How you choose is up to you.”
Irina, for once, didn’t offer any advice.
“Because I would choose the same as you. Even if you don’t ask me, you already know what you want to do, right?”
‘Now that you put it like that, I feel a lot more confident!’
‘I used to be timid little Su Mu, but now I’m the genius girl Irina!’
‘You dare laugh at me? Believe it or not, I’ll make you all fly!’
Su Mu slammed her desk with a bang, sending her pencil case flying and startling everyone around her nearly out of their seats.
“You, you, and you—laughing so happily, huh? Go ahead and laugh! Tell me, what did you all write down?”