I made love to you because I love you - Chapter 10

page views:1 Publication date:2023-02-27 08:16:03

Although Miwa had mentally prepared herself before deciding to attend a top-tier high school out of spite, the pretentious attitude of the students still left her feeling frustrated. From the very first day, her homeroom teacher relentlessly emphasized the "high school entrance exam." Most of her classmates were like Dongling—diligent in their studies, respectful of teachers, and united with their peers, all studying until they looked pale and tired from the twice-yearly grade-level rankings. However, the general outline of puberty couldn't be forgotten just because of the fleeting exams. Beyond the secret feelings that secretly grew between boys and girls, there were also more direct physiological confusions and explorations, which the boys expressed quite openly.
Honeybee's homeroom teacher was a model teacher, an English teacher with hawk-like eyes that seemed to see right into people's hearts. Except for model students like Dongling, none of the students liked her. The most popular was the new Chinese teacher, a young woman named Yu Ting. She had a face like a silver platter and eyes like water apricots, with a very voluptuous figure. When she first arrived, she was driven to tears by the boys a few times, but after a while, they got along well. At the beginning of the second semester, Ms. Yu happily told the students that she was married. Honeybee watched as a touch of feminine charm appeared in her eyes. Ms. Yu was naturally like a marshmallow, sweet and soft. Her husband's family seemed quite wealthy, having bought many clothes before and after the wedding. Ms. Yu's attire made her look more and more like an oversized doll. By mid-spring, she had changed her dresses more than a dozen times. Honeybee and the other girls felt like they were watching cosplay every day (of course, this term wasn't widely known at the time), commenting and praising her endlessly. The boys, however, had their own unique enjoyment.
Ms. Xiao's dresses were mostly open-front blouses with heavy lace detailing at the chest. The buttons were spaced so far apart they could make any man a saint. If the angle was right, Ms. Xiao only needed to bend over to reveal her beautiful breasts. Some boy broke the mold, but the saying "sitting down is the best angle" spread, and the boys' interest in Chinese suddenly skyrocketed. Whenever Ms. Xiao was around, whether in class or during self-study, boys would raise their hands to ask questions in droves. The naive Ms. Xiao simply thought her enthusiasm for teaching had worked. She patiently bent down to explain time and time again, and even praised the class in the teachers' office, saying the students had read the textbook carefully and asked many questions. Of course, the boys rarely looked at the textbooks; their eyes were always glued to their buttons. What made it even funnier was that during breaks, the boys would always exchange knowing glances and say, "Today's is pink!" As time went on, these bald boys developed a better sense of color and even distinguished between bright yellow and beige. When I heard this, I felt like they were all going to become Vitruvian men.
Most of the girls in the class pretended not to see, except for Miwa and Dongling, who made their stance clear. Miwa openly shared a tacit understanding with the boys, her glances always gleaming with shrewdness; Dongling, however, was indignant, repeatedly berating them among her close friends, "What is this if not a hooligan!" Later, Dongling finally ended the boys' visual feast. During a self-study session, she softly said to Ms. Xiao, who was bending over beside her, "Teacher, don't you feel awkward wearing a shirt like that?" At the same time, she glanced at Koukou with a half-closed look. Ms. Xiao blushed, and the next day she wore a brooch on her chest. From then on, Ms. Xiao's brooch became her trademark. Needless to say, the boys harbored resentment towards Dongling.
In this matter, Honey Wax only felt that Dongling was meddling and didn't think much of it. However, something happened later that made Honey Wax realize that boys are indeed more mature and proactive than girls when it comes to sexual awakening.
As the first year of junior high was drawing to a close, one afternoon, Mi La sensed something was amiss as soon as she entered the classroom. All the boys were huddled at the back, heads bowed, staring intently at something. Whenever a girl approached, they would shoo her away in a show of solidarity, then eagerly turn back to continue watching. A little while later, the group would gather at the blackboard at the back, watching the naughtiest boy draw, occasionally bursting into ambiguous laughter, so happy they forgot everything else.
Joy turned to sorrow. That day happened to be the homeroom teacher's class. The bell rang, but no one heard it. The old lady walked up to them without them noticing. They hadn't even had time to wipe the picture before the old lady caught them red-handed. The old lady's face turned purple when she saw the picture. After snatching the book from the boy in the lead and taking a look, she almost fainted.
Of course, class couldn't be held. All the boys were taken to the teachers' office to stand and write self-criticisms. The next day, as usual, their parents were called in—so many parents that the grade's meeting room was overflowing. Through the glass door of the meeting room, I could see the homeroom teacher giving a passionate speech. It was the first time in my life that I had seen so many adults being criticized. The fathers were sighing and groaning, and the mothers' eyes were darting around, their faces flushed.
For the next week, all the boys were listless, and the classroom was quiet. Hearing Dongling talking to the class monitor, "Serves them right! Let's see if they're still acting like hooligans!" Miwa pouted, too tired to even muster the energy.
The painting that caused the disaster had long been quietly erased, but everyone had surely seen its contents: extremely simple lines depicting a bed, with a circle and two lines on the bed representing a person, and another circle and two lines above the person representing another person. The confiscated book would likely never see the light of day again; though I hadn't seen it in person, I could guess what kind of book it was.
It's just a sex education handbook. I saw one at home when I was in elementary school. The graphic pictures of organs in the book made my heart pound for a moment, but that was it. I didn't suffer from declining grades or moral depravity, or "go down the path of crime" as the old lady said. Pshaw.
Beeswax looked back and saw Dongling and the class monitor still talking, their eyes gleaming with triumphant satisfaction. Beeswax gave them a disdainful sidelong glance: "Let's see what kind of saint you'll become in the future."
Based on her understanding of human affairs, Beeswax concluded that Dongling could not be an exception, and many years later Dongling was indeed no exception. However, Beeswax did not expect that Dongling's exception would be so heartbreaking.

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