Teacher Wu

Wu Changkong had returned.

The news caused no stir among Eastsea Academy's faculty. Director Long went about arranging the start-of-term affairs as usual, teachers from every grade prepared their lesson plans as usual, and people were still running and bragging on the field as usual—Teacher Wu, clad in white and carrying a blue sword, had returned from a business trip. In this frontier city, far removed from legends, it was hardly news worth spreading.

Only one person did not see it that way.

"Tea—cher—Wu—!"

The call cleaved through from the end of the third-floor corridor in the teaching building, passing through two walls, a half-open window, and Director Long's freshly brewed cup of Longjing tea. It was loud, pitched slightly high, and rose cheerfully at the end, sincere as if she had spotted a long-lost relative.

Wu Changkong, who was sorting through materials from his return in the office, paused his fingers.

He recognized that voice. No one else could imitate it. Because among all the staff at Eastsea Academy, including even the cleaning ladies, there was not a second person who would call his name with such complete disregard for boundaries.

The office door was pushed open.

Lu Menge stood in the doorway, her left hand tucked into the pocket of her white coat and her right hand holding the ever-present thermos. Today, she wore a black hip-hugging skirt with a side slit, asymmetrical white stockings wrapping her straight, slender legs. Her thin high heels tapped out a lively rhythm on the threshold. Leaning against the doorframe, her amber fox eyes narrowed into pretty crescents, and the beauty mark beneath her left eye lifted slightly with her smile.

"Director Long said you were supposed to be back yesterday—what, was the signal bad over at the Soul Beast Forest?"

Wu Changkong did not look at her. His gaze remained on the documents in his hands, his tone flat. "The mission was delayed."

"Delayed?" Lu Menge walked in, her white coat brushing against the doorframe and carrying a faint fragrance—not like any perfume on the market, but more like the scent of an old tree buried deep in the mountains for years and soaked by rain. "Did you run into some troublesome soul beast on the way? Or did the Federation change its requirements again? I'm telling you, those people are just begging to be taught a lesson—"

"Teacher Lu."

Wu Changkong finally raised his head.

That face countless female students had privately rated "Eastsea Academy's Number One Glacier" met those smiling fox eyes. A subtle standoff crackled in the air for only an instant.

"The materials need to be submitted," Wu Changkong said.

Lu Menge looked at him for two seconds, then smiled. "You only ever talk about work. Are you free tonight? Big sister will treat you to dinner—a welcome-back meal."

"No need."

"Don't reject me so quickly. A new grilled fish place just opened on the street behind the academy—"

"Teacher Lu." Wu Changkong placed a document on the desk. "A few days ago, the academy admitted a new student with Blue Silver Grass as his martial soul. His innate soul power is Rank Three. The Academic Affairs Office assigned him to Class Five, Grade One. Do you know who the homeroom teacher is?"

Lu Menge blinked and pointed at her own nose with one finger.

"It's me."

"Good." Wu Changkong pushed the document toward her. "This student is called Tang Wulin. I heard—"

"Heard what?"

"—that you had dinner at his home last night."

Lu Menge picked up the document and fanned herself with it, her expression unchanged. "That was a home visit. Standard practice for an outstanding young teacher. Someone like you, who never eats with students, has no right to question it."

Wu Changkong fell silent for a beat and chose to abandon the subject. He lowered his head and resumed reading the materials, his body language clearly signaling her to leave. Of course Lu Menge understood. She always understood. But understanding and doing as told were two different things.

She sat down on the sofa, crossed her legs, took a leisurely sip from her thermos, then reclined against the backrest in an extremely comfortable pose and began flipping through the stack of new student files on the desk. She flipped through files while providing sound effects with her mouth. "This one is so tiny... This one's martial soul is a hammer? He can help Wu Lin forge later... Oh dear, why isn't this child smiling in his ID photo? He definitely hasn't met Teacher Me yet."

Wu Changkong pressed his pen down a little harder. Endure. His experience working with Lu Menge had taught him one thing: the sooner you learned to get used to her, the more peaceful your heart would be.

Yet Lu Menge did not stop while she was ahead. Instead, she changed positions, leaning sideways on the sofa with her cheek propped on one hand, staring directly at Wu Changkong. Her eyes traveled from his head to his feet, then from his feet back to his head. That gaze contained equal parts familiarity, seniority, and antique appraisal, making it impossible to tell what was wrong with it, yet equally impossible to say there was nothing wrong.

"Changkong," she suddenly said, "don't you think you've gotten colder lately?"

"...No."

"You have. When you came in just now, even the potted plants in the hallway scooted toward the wall."

Wu Changkong pulled out the third document and set it on the desk. The document was cool, his fingers were steady, but he turned the pages just a little faster than usual. If one looked closely, his thumb knuckle was a shade paler than normal.

Lu Menge's fox eyes caught that detail with perfect precision—honestly, she greatly admired that Wu Changkong could still sit there for so long. His composure was maxed out not only across Eastsea, but throughout the entire Federation. He was frosty-faced and upright, looking as though you can talk until the sky falls, and I will remain unmoved. Yet people like that were the ones she most wanted to tease.

She rose and walked around to the other side of the desk, bracing both hands against its edge and leaning forward. The distance between her amber eyes and Wu Changkong suddenly shrank to less than a foot. Mischievous light danced in those fox eyes.

"Teacher Wu, I have a very serious question for you."

Wu Changkong raised his eyes. His gaze remained cold, though beneath that coldness was a trace of vigilance.

"The last time you smiled—"

Wu Changkong had already predicted what she was going to say next.

"—when was it?"

Wu Changkong set down his pen. For someone as orderly as him, that action meant "conversation paused." He leaned back slightly in his chair and looked at Lu Menge, his tone still even. "Teacher Lu, it is work hours."

"I know."

"You have class."

"Not until this afternoon."

"Wu Lin needs to complete his enrollment procedures."

"The Academic Affairs Office said the line doesn't start until two this afternoon."

Lu Menge refuted him point by point, both hands still braced on the desk, a victor's smile on her face. Wu Changkong was silent for a moment before picking up his pen again. "...Do as you like."

Lu Menge gave a soft "Ha." Then she sat back down on the sofa and continued flipping through the new student files. This time, she got bored after two pages, spread the files aside, and began staring at Wu Changkong again. This time she said nothing. She simply watched him without blinking, as if an entire polar iceberg that needed melting sat before her, and she had all the time in the world.

The air was quiet for less than twenty seconds.

"Changkong."

"...Speak."

"You use the Heavenfrost Sword, right?"

Wu Changkong glanced at her without answering. The question required no answer—the Heavenfrost Sword might not have been universally known in the Federation's soul master world, but its reputation was certainly widespread.

Lu Menge rested her elbows on her knees and propped up her chin. "I heard that when the Heavenfrost Sword is cultivated to the deepest level, it can freeze an opponent's martial soul. Then if you smile, can you freeze yourself?"

Smack.

Wu Changkong slapped his pen onto the desk. It did not sound like anger—when Wu Changkong was angry, it did not sound like that. It sounded more like he had slapped some long-suppressed, nameless emotion onto the tabletop, making the ceramic pen holder jump slightly.

"Teacher Lu," a faint crack finally appeared in his voice, tightly restrained like a thin fissure on ice, impossible to hear unless one listened carefully, "if you want to improve this month's performance rating—I suggest you go prepare your lessons now."

Lu Menge looked at that crack in the ice, and the brightest smile of her morning appeared on her face. She unscrewed her thermos, took a leisurely sip, and stood to walk toward the door. Her high heels paused before the threshold. Turning back, she raised her thermos toward Wu Changkong in a casual toast.

"Alright, I'll stop messing with you. The mission must have been hard. Remember to eat."

Wu Changkong did not look up.

Lu Menge chuckled softly, pushed open the door, and walked out. Her white coat flashed past the doorframe, followed by the soft tune she hummed in the corridor and the crisp echo of her heels striking the floor.

The office became quiet again. Wu Changkong remained seated where he was and did not immediately pick up his pen. He lowered his gaze to the desktop, where a thermos lid had somehow been quietly left behind by Lu Menge. Yet it did not contain tea, but a round milk candy wrapped in pale golden paper. It still carried a hint of warmth.

Wu Changkong stared at the milk candy for several breaths. His expression did not change at all, but the finger he extended paused above the candy for a moment. His fingertip still held the faint chill from slapping down the pen. Then he put the candy into the drawer, where nearly half a drawer of the same pale golden wrappers had already accumulated.

In a voice so soft that only he could hear it, he said one sentence.

"...That woman."

A gust of wind swept across the field outside. Lu Menge crossed the field with light steps, casually pulling out a milk candy from her pocket and tossing it into her mouth. Chew, chew, chew. She narrowed her fox eyes in satisfaction. The surprise of meeting the Silver Dragon King yesterday, the joy of taking on a disciple that morning, and the pleasure of teasing an old colleague just now—it felt like her retirement life had become a little more fulfilling today.

Little White Tiger poked its head out from her shoulder and let out a howl toward the office.

"Shh—" Lu Menge pressed it back down. "Don't tell anyone about the little secret in Teacher Wu's drawer."

Little White Tiger howled.

"Yes, yes, yes—" She laughed until she bent at the waist. "Tease him and run. I'll still dare to do it next time."