Chapter 3The Teacher Who Broke the Plot

I decided to call Lily's parents.

Unexpectedly, as soon as I spoke, I was caught off guard by their attitude.

"Don't look for me if there's trouble. Isn't there a sucker willing to sponsor her? Go find whoever's sponsoring her! We didn't ask her to study. Unless she gets knocked up or dies! Otherwise, don't bother us!"

In the background, besides the grumpy middle-aged male voice, there were a woman's screams and a baby's loud crying.

"Damn woman, can you feed the kid! Make Jack stop crying! My head is about to explode!"

I couldn't believe it:

"Lily's parent..."

But the next second, the phone hung up with a snap.

The busy tone beeped in the receiver.

The substitute teacher for the class next door asked: "Was that Lily's family?"

Seeing me nod, she sighed.

"That child is pitiful."

"Her parents worked out of town before and left her with the elderly at home. Last year her parents got pregnant and had a second child. Seeing it was a boy, they immediately didn't want their daughter to continue studying to save money for the family."

"I heard that they even beat her up at the school gate before."

I quickly asked when this happened.

The substitute teacher said it was last year, right when she started tenth grade.

Seeing my face turn pale, she comforted me, saying there were so many students in the class, even a homeroom teacher couldn't cover everything and notice everyone.

"Especially since this is your first time being a homeroom teacher." She comforted me like this.

But my heart was still heavy.

The second period was my class.

Lily sat in her seat with her bangs drooping.

I carefully observed this girl for the first time.

Thin, frail, face pale, sitting there silently with very little presence, as if any random shadow could crush her.

Could such a girl confess to a teacher in front of all her classmates?

After class, I called the Chinese class representative. I had seen her holding hands with Lily going to the restroom a few times before, thinking they were good friends.

"But Ms. Sarah, Lily and I haven't been friends for a long time."

The girl twisted her fingers, looking uneasy.

"She always lies, saying how good her parents are to her, saying her parents made big money in the city and would buy a house when they return, giving her the best room as a bedroom. But actually, her parents ignore her."

"Last New Year's Eve party ended too late. My parents happened to be on a business trip and I was afraid to stay alone, so I asked if I could go back to her house with her. As a result, her parents wouldn't even open the door for her. We waited for fully half an hour before her grandma opened a crack for us to sneak in. Only then did I know her family wasn't like what she said at all."

"Teacher, I don't want to be friends with a liar. Is that wrong?" the class representative asked me.

Is it wrong?

My subconscious answer was no.

But as a teacher, I couldn't jump to conclusions so easily.

"Is there any student bullying her in class?"

The little girl shook her head, avoiding my eyes, and said: "I don't know."

I smiled at her, signaling her to leave first, then called the next student in.

Asked the same question.

"Are you friends with Lily? Is anyone bullying her in class?"

A class is like a small society. No matter how much of an ivory tower it is, students will be divided into ranks.

Those with good grades, rich families, and good looks will naturally be sorted into the most popular tier.

I asked more than ten girls in a row.

The answers I got were that they weren't friends with Lily, weren't familiar, and didn't know if anyone in class bullied her.

Although Lily was reticent, she was careful and serious.

Teachers usually asked her to help collect homework, so her interaction with classmates couldn't be too little.

But the answers I got now made me suspicious.

Ding.

The phone vibrated.

Ethan sent a message saying he took the afternoon off.

I didn't reply to him.

The next period was self-study. I decided to sneak into the class to take a look first.