As we were leaving the restaurant after the meal, we ran into Jiang Qingqing. She was there with a man—probably in his thirties, dressed sharply in a suit, looking every bit the successful type.
Jiang Qingqing, meanwhile, was wearing a short skirt and high heels, her face lightly made up.
She must have just finished eating in a private room. When she saw me drunk off my ass, she frowned and walked over. "School's out—why aren't you going home? Drinking again?"
Her tone pissed me off. School was over—did she still think she could control me? I had my own life. And with the alcohol in my system, I felt bold. I shot back, "I'm drinking with friends. What's it to you?"
Seeing me talk back, her frown deepened. "You're wasted. Stop messing around and go home."
"I'm hanging out with my friends a bit longer. I'll go back later."
Jiang Qingqing opened her mouth like she wanted to say more, but in the end, she just sighed. "Fine. Don't stay out too late."
With that, she left with the man. At the door, I watched her get into his car—a Mercedes S350L. Must be loaded.
Once she was gone, Puppy and the others lost their minds. "You know her?!"
"She's my homeroom teacher."
Puppy whistled. "Damn, your teacher's fine as hell."
Since their vocational school was in the opposite direction of where I lived, they offered to drop me off, but I refused and called a cab instead.
On the way home, my phone rang—Yan She. "Why aren't you back yet? It's late."
"In the cab. Almost there."
She just said "Oh" and hung up.
A quick explanation: My family doesn't live in the city. I went to middle school in a rural town before my dad pulled strings (and paid a hefty fee) to get me into this school. Since home was too far, I usually stayed with my "sister"—not by blood, but my cousin from my aunt's side. Her name is Yan She. On weekends, I crash at her place.
Honestly? I don't like her. No—I hate her.
First, she loves mocking me—says I'm uglier than her, teases me for still being a virgin at seventeen. Second, she bullies me constantly—pinching, hitting, you name it. Third, she blackmails me into cleaning her apartment, doing her laundry… If I refuse? No allowance. My dad entrusts her with my weekly stipend because he thinks I'd waste it. That's the only reason I put up with her.
When I got back, Yan She was lounging on the couch in tiny shorts and a white tee, snacking on sunflower seeds while watching TV. Hearing me come in, she glanced up. "Why so late?"
"Met some classmates. Had dinner."
She sniffed the air. "You've been drinking."
"Just a little."
She pointed at the bathroom. "Go shower and brush your teeth. Then come here. We need to talk."
I didn't dare disobey. After blowing through my savings today, next week's allowance depended on her. I rushed to clean up.
When I returned, I asked, "What did you want to talk about?"
Yan She set down the seeds and turned to me, silent. Her stare made me uneasy. I couldn't meet her eyes—partly out of fear, partly because… well, she's gorgeous. Stunning, actually. Guys line up for her.
Noticing my avoidance, she giggled. "What's wrong? Little Zhang Cheng can't even look at his sister now? Weren't you the one who swore you'd marry me when you grew up?"
I grimaced. "I was a dumb kid. Just say what you need to say—I'm tired."
"Nope. We're talking."
"Then talk! Stop messing with me, or I might just drop dead from stress."
She laughed. "You're that scared of me?"
"Terrified. If it weren't for the allowance, I'd never come here."
That only made her laugh harder.
Finally, she got serious. "This is about school. Your homeroom teacher called your dad."
My stomach dropped. Jiang Qingqing called my father?!
"She said you wrote a girl a love letter. That you're dating."
Of course she'd snitch. She wanted me to get in trouble.
Yan She continued, "After the call, your dad phoned me. Said disciplining you is my job now. If you skip class or date again, he's cutting your allowance—just meal card money. No cash."
Rage boiled inside me. I hate Jiang Qingqing even more now.