Hateful Teacher Tony

A good hairstyle can accentuate and elevate a person’s overall aura. It can even change the shape of one’s face.

For some, it might even have a miraculous, life-saving effect.

However, if the hairstyle goes wrong, for certain people, it can be nothing short of a catastrophic blow.

As the saying goes:

“Heads can roll, blood can spill—but the hairstyle must stay perfect.”

With the right hair, even a beggar can become a prince.

The streets were still bustling with people, as if the cultists lurking in the shadows this morning never even existed.

Dressed casually, Su Xuan stepped out of the elevator and into the bright sunlight. He could only wish this peaceful world would last. The fight earlier that morning had nearly cost him his life. While he had felt nothing in the moment, in hindsight, it left him rattled.

There were plenty of salons nearby, but Su Xuan preferred the Trendy Cuts salon—not for any special reason, just because it was close to home. Sometimes saving a few steps really did make all the difference.

Inside the shop, as usual, a few customers were already getting their hair done. If the person ahead was a guy, great—short wait. But if it was a woman? Then prepare to camp out.

Luckily, the customer ahead was a guy, so Su Xuan estimated his turn would come within ten minutes.

As soon as he walked in, the young salon attendant greeted him warmly and offered him a seat on the sofa.

“Miss, just a few minutes, alright?”

The stylist—everyone called him Tony—was busily working away on a guy’s hair, clippers buzzing steadily.

“Miss…?”

Su Xuan glanced at the large mirror across the room. His shoulder-length hair was tied back, with a few strands loosely falling over his forehead, accentuating his already exquisite features. No wonder Tony had assumed he was a woman at first glance.

A short while later, it was Su Xuan’s turn.

“What kind of style are you thinking?”

Tony stared at the breathtakingly beautiful “woman” sitting in front of him.

“Just make it a bit shorter,” Su Xuan replied lazily in his androgynous low voice, a voice that somehow stirred the heart.

Clients who give such vague directions were always the trickiest. If it were a man, that’d still be manageable—but a woman? If the cut turned out poorly, odds were they’d never come back again.

And Tony had never had such a stunning client before. He stood there dazed, circling the chair as though admiring a work of art, occasionally fiddling with his tools and pondering his options.

“Why haven’t you started yet?” Su Xuan asked impatiently when he noticed Tony hadn’t even begun.

“One moment, miss—almost ready!” Tony replied, still absorbed.

After another few seconds of scrutiny, a cooling mist sprayed over Su Xuan’s scalp—it felt cold against the skin.

“Miss, you’ve really taken good care of your hair!” Tony said with a sigh of admiration as he ran his fingers through the silky strands.

Hearing another “miss,” Su Xuan rolled his eyes internally and muttered in his head:

“Of course the hair’s good—I just grew it out two days ago…”

Tony finally picked up his scissors and comb and began working.

“Snip, snip…”

With each cut, strands of dark hair fell away. His hair, which had just begun to brush past his shoulders, was trimmed a little shorter.

“Miss, have you never had your hair styled before?” Tony asked, genuinely surprised. For someone this age to have never dyed, permed, or seriously styled their hair—it was rare.

The repeated “miss” was getting on Su Xuan’s nerves.

“Stop calling me ‘miss.’ I’m a guy. So tell me, why is a guy getting his hair done?”

The deep, slightly annoyed voice silenced Tony for a moment. His hands even trembled slightly.

“Haha… Sorry, sir—you’re just… really beautiful.”

He had seen guys with long hair before, but usually, it was obvious. With Su Xuan? There wasn’t even a hint. No wonder he got confused.

“And I called him ‘miss’ so many times… and he didn’t even stop me earlier…”

Normally, that would’ve caused an awkward silence, but Tony was a trained pro. He changed the subject smoothly.

“In that case, we’ll need a different style… hmm, hold on.”

Tony paused, staring hard at Su Xuan again.

“Sir, for your look, I’d recommend something with bangs. Like this…” He pulled out his phone, scrolled a bit, and showed a photo.

In the picture was a person—gender unclear—with side-swept bangs, looking both handsome and elegant.

From the looks of it, the style was unisex: long-ish, but not too feminine.

Although Su Xuan had originally asked for a shorter cut, a part of him hesitated. He felt reluctant to part with too much of his hair. After a few seconds of thought, he nodded.

“Alright, sure.”

With the green light given, Tony resumed his work.

What Su Xuan didn’t realize was that the person in the photo looked cool and masculine because of their sharp bone structure. Their defined jawline added an edge that balanced out the hairstyle.

Su Xuan, however, had long since developed a refined oval face—the kind often called a “classic beauty.” On his features, this same style would only amplify that softness and feminine charm.

Tony began by trimming the bangs just above the eyebrows, then cleaned up the sides.

Soon, the hairstyle from the photo began to take shape.

But the more Su Xuan stared at the reflection in the mirror, the more off it felt. The fierce, heroic aura from the photo? Nowhere to be seen. Instead, the hairstyle only emphasized the delicate lines of his face, making him look even more pure and… alluring.

Then came the finishing touches: Tony tied up the back section of his hair, used a curling iron to add some volume, and styled it into a small ponytail.

“This doesn’t feel right… this doesn’t feel right at all…”

Su Xuan stared at the reflection—a stunning, seductive, yet innocent beauty—and a chill ran through him.

“Where’s the ‘wandering swordsman’ energy you promised?! What the hell, Tony—you scammed me!”

He was screaming inside. This was not the effect he had in mind. Far from looking more masculine, he now resembled an anime heroine.

Tony did a few last trims, then stood back, clearly pleased.

“Alright… it’s done. What do you think?” he asked, clapping his hands together with satisfaction.

Su Xuan sat there, black lines forming on his forehead, saying nothing. But inside, a storm was brewing.

“What do I think? I think you should die, Tony.”

“That’ll be fifty yuan. Alipay or WeChat?”

“WeChat…” Su Xuan muttered.

In the end, he didn’t lash out—he simply added the salon to his mental blacklist and walked out in a daze.