Only two months had passed. Two months, not too short, not too long, yet in her heart, Ngoc Vy already felt soaked with the taste of distance and longing.
Since he left, Lam Tuan hadn't paid much attention to this familiar land anymore. Aside from talking to her every day, he seemed completely indifferent to everything else.
People say: "A person is willing to love a distant place, as long as someone they care about is there."
But is that really true?
Had busyness made him forget everything about this beloved homeland?
Or had the glittering city life dimmed this small, familiar place in his memory?
Ngoc Vy felt a sudden pang of sadness. Lately, the pressure of exams was closing in, and her understanding of the lessons seemed to decline by the day.
It wasn't that she didn't understand the material, nor that she was lazy in her studying. It was just that, for some reason, what seemed perfectly clear in class became confusing and vague the moment she tried to apply it in her exercises.
She suppressed a sigh and tried to think through the problem carefully, flipping through all her textbooks and notes, yet she still couldn't figure out where she went wrong.
"This can't be!" – she thought.
I've tried two methods already, why doesn't it match the answer?
Could the problem itself be wrong?
With a sudden impulse, she snapped a quick photo of her work and sent a message to professor Luong on Facebook.
"Professor, could you please check this problem for me? I can't find what's wrong."
This time, she didn't have to wait long. A reply popped up almost immediately:
"You did it correctly. The printed answer must be wrong."
She smiled and sent a quick thank-you.
Thirty minutes later, another message arrived.
"This time you really got it wrong. Check the formula in the lecture slides again."
"Yes, thank you!" – she replied, happily redoing the problem and adding a smiling emoji.
Forty-five minutes later, while she was still reviewing the formulas, her phone buzzed again.
The sender is Professor Luong.
"Your class has a test tomorrow, right?"
"Yes."
A few seconds later, another message appeared:
"Good luck. Hopefully there will be a little surprise tomorrow."
Reading it, Ngoc Vy felt both excited and uneasy, the professor's words felt like a double-edged sword.
"Yes, that's all I hope for! Thanks to your message, I've gone from feeling calm to totally anxious. How scary!"
"..."
Suddenly, anxiety washed over her, her mind spinning with questions. Why would he say that? Was he hinting that tomorrow's test would be really hard?
Before she could stop overthinking, another message from Professor Luong appeared:
"If you don't do well tomorrow, blame me."
"Don't blame me!" – he quickly corrected himself.
Seeing that, a smile spread across her face. She typed quickly:
"Earlier you said to blame you, so let's pretend I didn't see the correction."
She giggled, enjoying his little "correction."
"Typo."
"Or is it really what you were thinking while typing?" – she teased playfully, curious to see his reaction.
"..."
"Anyway, focus on studying." – Professor Luong replied tersely, clearly signaling the end of the conversation.
"Alright, goodbye, professor. Sleep well and have sweet dreams."
"Thank you. Sleep well and dream about the exam."
After finishing the conversation, Ngoc Vy sat there, staring blankly and smiling to herself like a little child.
It was the first time she had ever talked with a professor so casually and naturally.
She had never imagined that a teacher and a student could joke around like friends, especially when that teacher was Phan Thanh Luong.
The next morning, the exam turned out to be not as difficult as she had expected. It wasn't hard, but the chances of getting a perfect score were zero.
Still, she didn't feel too disappointed. She had tried her best, and there was no reason to blame Professor Luong.
On her way home, she stopped by Paris Baguette for a small treat to reward herself.
She had expected to see the usual stern, cold-faced professor Luong in class, but he wasn't there.
She slowly stirred her matcha, letting her thoughts drift to faraway places.
"How was it? Did you manage to do well?" – a message suddenly popped up.
"It was okay, professor." – she typed slowly, each word dragging from fatigue.
"Not a single question?"
"Well... just the third one." – she replied, feeling a little down but trying to stay composed.
Then, a super-sized like appeared on the screen.
"I don't even know if I got the other questions right." – she smiled, pretending to complain, hoping for a little sympathy.
She thought he would be kind and reassure her with a few comforting words, but instead, he hit her with a bucket of cold water.
"Hmm... probably all wrong!"
Oh my gosh! How could he be so cruel?
Was it really necessary to be so harsh?
Why would he rub salt into her wounds like that?
Hu hu hu.
She quickly sent a sad and angry face emoji.
"So I guess you only got the questions correct that had my name in them, right?" – Professor Luong said.
"How did you know?" – Ngoc Vy suprised.
In the test, Professor Luong included some practical questions using himself as an example, and Ngoc Vy got most of those questions correct.
"Because that question had my name in it... You were blessed by me." – Professor Luong answered.
The sip of matcha she had just taken shot out of her mouth, making her cough violently.
She promised herself that from now on, she would never drink anything while chatting with Professor Luong.
She didn't even know how to respond. It felt like the professor she saw on the podium and the one chatting with her now were two completely different people.
Her elegant, cold image totally gone.
What a disaster!
So the cold, poised version... was really just the "professor on the podium" version?
© Note: My Professor, My Husband – Copyright belongs to Zieny. Any copying, editing, or reuploading in any form without permission is strictly prohibited. Violators will be prosecuted according to the law.