Off Work, Then I Become a Magical Girl
Chapter 37: Umbrella

The rain grew heavier, and the slanting wind showed no sign of stopping. Even with an umbrella, Lin Xiaolu still found raindrops occasionally blown onto her body.

Time passed, and the crowd at the school gate had thinned out after the peak gathering period.

The parent-teacher meeting was set to begin in about ten minutes. Most parents were already seated, some even chatting with one another in the classroom.

After guiding their parents to the classrooms, the students made their own choices—some who were used to traveling alone simply went home, while others gathered in the library or gymnasium to wait out the meeting.

The schoolyard and the open space outside the teaching building were empty—after all, who would willingly stand in the rain?

The crowd at the entrance grew sparser, leaving only three or four students, including Lin Xiaolu, still holding umbrellas and waiting for their parents. Seeing that few people remained, the security guard stepped out of his booth and responsibly closed the main gate, leaving only the side entrance open for pedestrians.

Lin Yun still hadn’t arrived.

The downpour intensified.

Lin Xiaolu pulled out her phone and checked her previous messages. The reply she had received—just two words, “for sure”—stood out sharply on the screen.

Aya was a freelancer, which meant her schedule was far more flexible than Lin Yun’s, so she had always been the one to attend parent-teacher meetings.

Unlike Lin Yun’s strict time management, Aya was much more easygoing. Arriving right on time or even being late was common for her, and every time, she would laugh it off. If she really upset Lin Xiaolu—like the time she completely got the meeting date wrong—she would buy a pile of snacks and toys, then take Lin Xiaolu to an amusement park. Once her daughter had been thoroughly bribed by sugary treats, she would pitifully ask, “Lulu, you’re the most understanding, won’t you forgive Mom?”

"Why is this the only thing you’re good at reading my mind for?"

A flash of memory flickered past her eyes. Lin Xiaolu stared at the heavy rain and muttered to herself.

She told herself she shouldn’t care whether Lin Yun kept his promise or not.

It was just a parent-teacher meeting. No one had come for her in the past two years, and she hadn’t felt anything was wrong.

In fact, if she hadn’t mentioned it to Lin Yun today, she would have done what she did every year—explained her family situation to the homeroom teacher, then completely ignored the whole thing and gone home early.

If she went home now, she might even catch her afternoon anime program. The new Magical Girl series was already on its tenth episode, right?

Come to think of it, ever since she actually became a Magical Girl, she barely had time to watch anime anymore.

Did she really have to care about a parent-teacher meeting at this point?

As for that man, she had already been disappointed in him long ago. She had no trust in him, and whether he came or not wouldn’t stir any emotions in her.

She was only standing here because she had been the one to bring up the parent-teacher meeting. Leaving without at least checking felt irresponsible—this was just a matter of holding herself accountable.

If he was late, fine. If he ditched her, so be it. It had nothing to do with her.

If the meeting started and he still wasn’t here, she would just leave. Sending the classroom number in a text message would be enough.

Lin Xiaolu thought expressionlessly.

But no matter how much she told herself this, her eyes still drifted toward the school gate, scanning for a familiar figure.

Even when she tried distracting herself by refreshing social media, she couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling in her chest.

The last student waiting finally met up with his mother. Their umbrellas overlapped as they laughed and chatted on their way out.

Lin Xiaolu tapped her foot, her heel clicking against the ground, splashing water. Squelch. Squelch.

"He’s really not coming, is he?"

Just as she muttered those words, as if to confirm her thoughts, a sudden burst of music rang out. The melody was pleasant, but through the tinny quality of the school’s intercom, it sounded more like a clap of thunder, yanking Lin Xiaolu back to reality.

Every student at Xizhao High recognized that tune—it was the bell signaling the start of class.

And today, with the schedule adjusted, it meant one thing:

The parent-teacher meeting had begun.

Lin Yun was running through the rain.

The outcome of the battle had never been in question—someone capable of taking down a Pupa-tier Ravager alone wouldn’t have much trouble dealing with a Caterpillar.

The only issue had been the battlefield—a high-speed train. The constantly shifting environment had made it difficult to end the fight quickly with his Magic Threads. Using more powerful techniques like Masterpiece risked harming the passengers, so he was forced to rely on basic magical techniques he hadn’t used in a while.

Even though he had finished the fight as quickly as possible, he was still a few steps behind his usual pace.

Once the light rail train stopped, more complications arose. Perhaps because this was his first battle outside the Countermeasure Bureau’s jurisdiction, a crowd had gathered to watch. Chasing the onlookers away from the defeated Ravager took extra time.

Then, after reporting to Hong Siyu and explaining the situation to the Countermeasure Bureau, he had to dodge the growing crowd of people taking pictures. He finally took the aerial route and flew straight to Xizhao High.

Landing near a small alley as usual, he reverted to his normal form and stepped out, sprinting toward the school.

In his rush, he had abandoned his umbrella on the train, leaving him no choice but to squint through the downpour.

Blood still oozed from the cuts on his face—scratches from crashing through a train window. Exposed to the heavy rain, they stung sharply.

But pain was trivial. What truly mattered was time:

There was no doubt about it—he was late.

Even before landing, he had already missed the start of the meeting. At this point, all he could do was make up for it—to hurry, even if it was meaningless.

Deep down, he knew Lin Xiaolu might not be waiting for him.

He was the one who had insisted on coming; she had never seemed particularly enthusiastic about it.

And in this terrible weather, even if he did make it, wouldn’t it just be self-indulgence?

"Fine. Let’s just call it that—self-indulgence."

He tried to convince himself as he spotted Xizhao High’s gate in the distance and quickened his pace, slipping through the pedestrian entrance.

Panting heavily, he scanned the area around the flowerbeds, searching for her.

But in the end—

There was no one.

Lin Xiaolu was nowhere to be seen.

His heart sank.

Even though he had expected this, facing it still hurt.

His breath dissipated into the rain, unable to wash away the sinking weight in his chest. There was no excuse—he had been late, and that was a fact.

But thinking of his daughter’s face, imagining the look she must have had when he let her down again, a deep sense of guilt settled over him.

He had screwed up. Again.

Standing there, utterly drenched, he felt lost. He knew he could still go inside for the meeting, but the main reason for his presence had already fallen apart.

After a moment, he reached for his phone, fingers wet and trembling.

At the very least, he needed to ask for her classroom number.

Just then, a familiar voice called from behind him:

"Why do you look like this?"

His hand froze midair.

Turning around, he saw Lin Xiaolu, standing under an umbrella, leaning against the gate’s pillar, staring at him with a puzzled expression.

“Lulu…” Lin Yun opened his mouth to speak, but his voice came out hoarse.

“You’re too late. You’re already ten minutes late.”

Lin Xiaolu lowered her eyes, raising her phone to show its illuminated screen. The time displayed prominently in the center: 4:40 PM.

Lin Yun had no response. He tried to force a smile to show his apology, but his rusty expression control made it impossible to produce such a delicate gesture. In the end, all he could manage was a stiff twitch of his lips.

Lin Xiaolu ignored his awkward attempt. Instead, she took another look at his disheveled appearance, then pointed at his still-bleeding face and repeated her question:

"Why do you look like this?"

“The train—there was an issue with the light rail. It stopped in the middle of the trip…” Lin Yun started explaining.

“A Ravager?” Lin Xiaolu asked directly, making him fall silent.

“…Ahem, no.”

Not wanting her to realize that he had been in the same place as Veronica, he coughed twice before stiffly continuing, “Ravagers are dangerous. Why would you jump to that conclusion?”

“Because the Luoming Line was attacked by a Ravager. It was on the news.” Lin Xiaolu paused mid-sentence, then turned her phone screen toward him. “You took this train to get here, didn’t you?”

“…No, I fell off my bike on the way.”

Lin Yun tried to sound casual. “Since the train stopped, I rented a bike and rode here instead.”

“Spare me the terrible lies.” Lin Xiaolu muttered.

She didn’t bother exposing him further. Instead, she simply studied his sorry state—the man before her, usually prim and proper, had never looked worse.

She had seen him exhausted before—like that time when she ran away from home, and he had shown up at her classmate’s house, looking utterly drained. At the time, she thought that was the most miserable she had ever seen him.

But now, he looked even worse.

His usually crisp suit was soaked through, his neatly combed hair was plastered to his forehead like a wet helmet, and his face was covered in small, pitiful cuts.

If this were anyone else, she might have laughed at their misfortune.

But for some reason, she just felt a slight sting in her nose.

At that moment, she realized something—adults weren’t always as composed as they seemed.

Staring at this familiar yet distant man, she saw something she had never noticed before.

For the first time, she felt like a crack had formed in his rigid, silent exterior, allowing her to glimpse something real inside.

Something she had once desperately longed for—but had long since given up on.

For some reason, understanding that made her relax a little.

Her furrowed brows eased, and she lifted her arm.

“Here, take this.”

She extended the umbrella toward him.

“…Huh?”

Lin Yun stared in surprise, hesitating before reaching out to take it. “Does this mean…?”

“I’ve been holding it up for half an hour.”

Lin Xiaolu turned her face away, avoiding his gaze. “Hold it for me. My arms are tired.”

And just like that, she handed the umbrella over and naturally stepped under it beside him.

Stretching her stiff arms, she flicked off the rainwater clinging to her damp sleeves.

After a few moments, noticing that Lin Yun still wasn’t moving, she frowned and looked up at him.

“Well? What are you standing around for? Isn’t there a parent-teacher meeting to get to?”

“…Right. The meeting.”

In that moment, warmth spread through Lin Yun’s chest—a relief that felt both joyful and bittersweet.

He gripped the umbrella firmly and stepped forward alongside Lin Xiaolu.

Father and daughter walked together through the rain, sharing a single umbrella as they made their way toward the school building.

Under the torrential downpour, the black umbrella swayed slightly, sheltering them in its small, enclosed space.

Slowly, their figures disappeared into the rain.

Thunder rumbled across the sky, and the rain continued to fall in sweeping gusts.

On the flooded pavement, a snail struggled in a puddle, unable to escape. Trapped in the water, it curled into its shell, waiting for the inevitable.

Just then, from under the nearby eaves, a hand reached out—carefully plucking the snail from the water and placing it safely on the ground.

The hand’s owner stepped back, returning to the shelter of the overhang.

Xia Liang crouched there alone.

A faint, contented smile graced her lips as she quietly watched Lin Xiaolu and Lin Yun disappear into the distance.

But once their figures were out of sight, her expression dimmed.

She stared blankly at the snail as it slowly extended its tentacles and resumed its sluggish crawl.

For some reason, her mind drifted back to that night when she faked running away from home and stayed at Lin Xiaolu’s house.

Or rather, to the moment when she had tried to chat with her—only to end up deeply moved by Lin Xiaolu’s honesty.

She recalled the words she had spoken back then—

A sentence that she had barely dared to say aloud, afraid of revealing too much of her own heart.

“I’m really… so jealous of you.”