Chapter 3: Failing a Course

Ji Pei swallowed hard after being called to stand.

She stood up and met Jiang Xihan’s eyes, noticing that the professor had already written a few elegant, slender characters in Song-style calligraphy on the blackboard.

“Is there an afterlife for a person after death?”

This must be the question Jiang Xihan wanted her to answer.

“Yes.”

Ji Pei thought for a moment, her hand clutching a rabbit-shaped pen curling slightly as she met Jiang Xihan’s phoenix-like eyes from the podium.

Jiang Xihan’s voice carried a hint of lightness. “Why?”

“A person’s value isn’t determined by life or death. After death, the body may decay over time, but a person’s will doesn’t vanish with the body’s demise.”

Ji Pei glanced at the textbook open to that very page, combining its theory with her own observations.

Jiang Xihan nodded in satisfaction and said to the teaching assistant nearby, “Bai Yin, add five points to this student’s participation grade.”

She looked directly into Ji Pei’s eyes and asked, “What’s your name?”

Ji Pei licked her lips nervously. “Ji Fan.”

“Alright, Ji Fan, please sit down.”

The moment Ji Pei sat down, it was as if the sky brightened instantly. Her hands stopped trembling, her legs no longer ached, and she had to press her lips together to keep from smiling.

Noticing a few students at the desks in front of her sneakily playing on their phones under the table, she remembered she hadn’t checked in with Dongri for most of the day. She stealthily pulled out her phone and unlocked it with a squint.

The 15-minute lockout period had just ended. Ji Pei opened the messaging app and found her chat with Dongri, only to see that Dongri had sent her four or five messages. (Dongiri is chinese word for winter)

Dongri: [So fair and so big, it’d be even more perfect if the neckline was a bit lower.]

Dongri: [When are you going to send me a video?]

Dongri: [Why aren’t you replying to my messages?]

Ji Pei glanced at the timestamps—the most recent message was from an hour ago.

Her face flushed red instantly. Holding her phone, she typed with one hand:

*I… am… in… class…*

*Talk… after… class…*

After editing the message, Ji Pei hit send.

“Ding-dong—”

A notification chime echoed through the quiet classroom. Someone hadn’t muted their phone—what bad luck. Would Jiang Xihan catch them and deduct points?

In the tiered classroom, heads turned to see who it was, and Ji Pei carefully tucked her phone away, following the others’ gazes.

Jiang Xihan’s face showed no extra expression, but her assistant, Bai Yin, gasped audibly.

Jiang Xihan stared at her own glowing phone screen, glanced at the pink app, and then, in front of everyone, calmly muted her phone.

“Class continues.”

Ji Pei hadn’t expected Jiang Xihan to be so shameless. The professor had set the rule that phones must be muted and not used during class, yet she was the one breaking it.

Dongri hadn’t replied to her message, but it showed as “read,” which started to bother Ji Pei.

Normally, Dongri replied instantly. Why the read-but-no-reply today? This had never happened before.

Could she be working and forgot to reply after seeing the message?

That was a possibility.

Ji Pei slid her phone down a few centimeters and froze when she saw the distance displayed.

0.01 kilometers?!

That meant Dongri was sitting in this very classroom!

Was she also a student at A University?

Ji Pei’s heart raced with a mix of nerves and excitement. She began discreetly scanning the room, her eyes darting around.

She’d once asked Dongri about her hairstyle, and Dongri had said she had shoulder-length hair.

Ji Pei looked around. There were plenty of girls with long hair in the classroom, but most were focused on the lecture, not touching their phones.

On the other hand, some of the guys nearby were typing messages or playing games with their heads down.

Could it be that her so-called perfect girlfriend was actually a guy?

It wasn’t impossible, and the thought chilled Ji Pei to the core.

The clues were there—Dongri had never initiated a voice call, so Ji Pei had no idea if she was male or female.

What if the “girlfriend” she’d been talking to for two months was a guy posing as a scammer?

The realization was terrifying. Ji Pei’s heart sank, and she bit her lower lip, lost in thought.

Then, typing with one hand, she edited and sent a message.

Jifeng: [Darling, we’ve been together for so long, I really want to hear your voice.]

After sending the message, Ji Pei stuffed her phone away. Jiang Xihan’s voice, though powerful enough to pierce eardrums, didn’t register with her at all.

There was no reply from the other end. Jiang Xihan, standing at the podium, watched her phone screen light up and dim, a faint smile curling her lips.

Still no reply. Ji Pei stared lifelessly at an illustration in her textbook, then picked up her pen and drew a Captain Barbossa-style beard on it.

She knew it—she’d been scammed. This person wasn’t sending a voice message, probably trying to figure out which voice changer to use to keep up the deception.

Heartbroken and furious, Ji Pei’s emotions overwhelmed her reason. She pulled her phone onto the desk and started typing in her chat with Dongri.

After five minutes of typing, she couldn’t even form a complete sentence. Resigned, she prepared to send the drafted “We’re not a good match” message when a shadow loomed over her.

In the classroom, everyone turned to look at Ji Pei—some with glee, others with pity.

Jiang Xihan’s expression was neutral, her tone firm. “Hand over the phone.”

Ji Pei didn’t have time to close the app before Jiang Xihan snatched the phone from her hand. She lowered her head, pressing her lips together, unaware that Jiang Xihan glanced at her screen.

Jiang Xihan turned to the assistant. “Bai Yin, deduct the participation points I just added.”

Ji Pei: “…”

Deducted just like that!

For the rest of the class, Ji Pei listened with unprecedented focus—her phone had been confiscated.

She couldn’t understand why, in a university elective course, Jiang Xihan would publicly take her phone in front of the entire class.

Thankfully, she was posing as Ji Fan.

As soon as the bell rang, Jiang Xihan turned off the projector and left the classroom, not wasting a single second of class time.

The students around her started packing their bags, some already discussing dinner plans.

“There’s a new braised chicken place on the second floor of the east cafeteria—it’s amazing!”

“Let’s go! Good thing this professor doesn’t drag the class. Hurry and grab a spot!”

Braised chicken sounded so good that Ji Pei’s stomach rumbled. She decided to check out the east cafeteria later.

Remembering her phone was still with Jiang Xihan, she stood up to head to the professor’s office when Bai Yin, the assistant, approached from the podium.

Holding a laptop, Bai Yin delivered a bombshell. “Ji Fan, Professor Jiang says to see her in her office after class.”

Ji Pei: “…”

Seeing Ji Pei’s cloudy expression, Bai Yin couldn’t help but offer comfort.

“Ji Fan, Professor Jiang’s actually pretty nice. Playing with your phone isn’t a big deal—it’s just her rule.”

Ji Pei nodded and followed Bai Yin.

“Thank you, Assistant Bai.”

Ji Pei’s greatest fear was being alone with a teacher, especially someone as intimidating as Professor Jiang Xihan.

She fidgeted with her sleeves as she followed Bai Yin into Jiang Xihan’s office.

Jiang Xihan sat at a desk by the window, a stack of thick books shielding the lower half of her face, leaving only her sharp phoenix eyes visible.

She looked up slowly as they entered, her gaze locking onto Ji Pei’s.

Bai Yin whispered, “Good luck,” in Ji Pei’s ear, placed the laptop on Jiang Xihan’s desk, and bolted.

The office was empty except for Ji Pei and Jiang Xihan, which made it even more terrifying.

“Professor Jiang, hello. I’m here to get my phone. Is there anything else you need?”

A pot of jasmine tea on the windowsill had finished brewing. Jiang Xihan gestured for Ji Pei to sit, took out two cracked-ice-patterned celadon cups, and poured tea into both.

The clear, steaming tea flowed gracefully from the spout.

Ji Pei was almost mesmerized by the elegant scene.

“Where is Ji Fan right now?”

The sudden question nearly made Ji Pei drop her cup. To others, it might’ve looked like she’d been scalded by the hot tea.

“Ji Fan, she… she’s…”

Jiang Xihan stared unblinkingly into Ji Pei’s eyes, her teardrop mole seeming to shimmer, nearly drawing Ji Pei in.

“Right now! Where?”

“Professor Jiang, I have a reason for this.”

Jiang Xihan’s gaze lingered on Ji Pei’s slightly curled eyelashes. Her ink-painting-like eyes narrowed slightly, making Ji Pei lower her head guiltily.

“Tell me your reason.”

Ji Pei’s mind raced. Biting her lower lip, she met Jiang Xihan’s gaze.

“Actually, my sister… she got hit by a car this afternoon…”

Jiang Xihan’s lips pressed together, a rare reaction.

“A truck or a car?”

“A bicycle…”

Ji Pei muttered softly,

“If it was a truck, she’d hardly be alive to…”

Jiang Xihan pressed,

“To what?”

“To get checked at the hospital.”

Ji Pei, lacking confidence, spun another lie.

“She’s kind of scared of dying, so… she went to the hospital alone. She’s probably home by now.”

“Tell her she doesn’t need to come to this class anymore. She can retake it next year. And tell her to keep her textbook safe—don’t lose it.”

Ji Pei closed her eyes, silently mourning for Ji Fan for two seconds before throwing her under the bus.

“Yeah, I told her from the start this wasn’t a good idea, but who knew…”

Jiang Xihan’s ink-like phoenix eyes curved slightly. Listening to Ji Pei ramble, her slender, pale fingers slowly traced the rim of the round teacup.

“What’s your name?”

“Ji Pei.”

“Ji Pei.”

Jiang Xihan let the name roll off her tongue slowly. “Nice name.”

“How old are you?”

Ji Pei answered honestly,

“Twenty-two.”

Jiang Xihan raised an eyebrow.

“Twenty-two? A senior?”

“I graduated from university almost a year ago,”

Ji Pei replied.

Her gaze fell on the jasmine tea in Jiang Xihan’s hand, unsure whether she was looking at the cup or the professor’s fingers.

“So, Professor Jiang, can I have my phone back now?”

Jiang Xihan opened a pale green box beside her, took out the phone, and handed it to Ji Pei without a change in expression.

“Your phone’s been flashing. Check who’s messaging you.”

Her fingertips brushed Ji Pei’s slowly, her eyes carrying a faint smile.

“Don’t keep her waiting too long.”

As Ji Pei turned to leave, Jiang Xihan called her back.

“Let’s add each other on WeChat. If Ji Fan has any academic issues, I can let you know in advance.”

Back in college, when Ji Fan was in high school, Ji Pei had played the role of a parent, joining various parent and study groups.

Without thinking much, she opened her WeChat QR code for Jiang Xihan to scan.

After adding each other, Ji Pei nodded politely and left the office.

Jiang Xihan stared at Ji Pei’s profile picture—two cats and a dog—and pinned her chat to the top.