The girl turned her head at the sound. Seeing Xu Xingyu, she froze for a moment, but a complex mix of emotions—embarrassment, jealousy, and disgust—flickered across her pure, pretty face, all of which were caught by the malice-sensitive Xingyu.
Perhaps it was disdain for a girl who had only beauty and status but nothing of substance underneath, or perhaps it was hatred fueled by the way she constantly bullied Xu Lingjing.
"Could you please move? Ruan Qianqian, this isn't your seat, is it? Don't you have a desk of your own?"
Xingyu stood tall, looking down at her with a chin tilted in arrogance. Her voice lacked its usual overbearing contempt, yet to Ruan Qianqian, it felt even more mocking and disdainful.
Ruan Qianqian’s face twisted with rage for a second before she quickly composed herself. She lifted her chin and bit her lip, her palms damp with sweat, a flush of humiliation burning across her face.
"I didn't know... I didn't mean to. I thought you weren't coming to class today, so I sat here for a moment." Her voice trembled, and her eyes glazed over with a sheen of moisture, as if she were about to burst into tears at any second.
Xingyu sneered. "Oh, I’m just asking you to get up so I can sit in my seat. Why the 'about-to-cry' act? Do you think I’m bullying you?"
A hot-blooded classmate couldn't take it anymore.
"Xu Xingyu, you’ve gone too far! Isn't bullying Xu Lingjing enough? Now that Ruan Qianqian is just talking to him, you’re going after her too?"
Xingyu tilted her head. Her pitch-black eyes were like inanimate glass beads; when her face was void of expression, she looked like a heartless killing machine.
The classmate who had spoken felt a chill crawl up his spine at her gaze and instinctively took a step back, his legs trembling.
She tapped lightly on Xu Lingjing’s desk, a curve of unmistakable mockery and malice touching her lips. "My dear brother, have I ever bullied you?"
Xu Lingjing raised his eyes to look at her. He wore silver-rimmed glasses at school, which obscured much of his expression, yet his features—cold and clear as a frosty moon—remained incomparably sharp.
He watched her in silence, as if this were no different from the thousands of times before.
His fingertips rested on the page of his book. He parted his thin, pale lips, his voice as clear and melodious as jade shattering against stone: "No, she has never bullied me."
Xingyu was satisfied. She spread her hands and smiled at the crowd, "See? He is my brother—not related by blood, but my brother nonetheless. Why would I ever bully my own brother? Right, brother?"
"Yes," Xu Lingjing replied softly.
Ruan Qianqian felt both mortified and resentful. She blurted out regardless, "I don't believe it! You must have threatened him!"
It was common knowledge that Xu Xingyu always bullied Xu Lingjing—pouring ink on his books, throwing his homework into the trash, and forbidding anyone from speaking to him. If someone dared to talk to him, she would grab whatever was at hand and throw it at them without a second thought.
Moreover, there were still faint red marks on the back of Xu Lingjing’s hands and arms. Though not very obvious, she had spotted them.
She had also heard her parents say that because the head of the Xu Family had only one daughter in Xu Xingyu, she was spoiled beyond measure, possessed a terrible temper, and often beat and berated Xu Lingjing at home.
Hearing her parents' words had made Ruan Qianqian’s heart ache so much she could barely hold back tears. Since then, she had sworn to herself that she would protect Xu Lingjing.
She knew he must be a man of great pride, forcing himself to endure it all rather than expose Xu Xingyu’s clumsy schemes. But her heart broke for him. She would not stand by and let Xu Xingyu humiliate him. Even with her powerful background, it was no excuse for her to hit and scold people as she pleased.
Despite the trepidation in her heart, Ruan Qianqian stood her ground. She wanted to save Xu Lingjing; even if she couldn't melt his icy heart immediately, she wanted him to see that there was still a warm light in this world.
Everyone in the classroom gasped, thinking Ruan Qianqian was brave to go head-to-head with the campus terror.
A girl close to Ruan Qianqian walked up and grabbed her arm, trying to drag her away before Xingyu completely lost her temper. As she pulled, she whispered in her ear: "Qianqian, stop it. This is Xu Xingyu’s seat. Class is about to start, just go back to your own."
But Ruan Qianqian ignored her. She remained motionless, like a magnet stuck to the spot, still sitting firmly in Xingyu’s chair. Her eyes filled with righteous fervor as she stole a glance at Xu Lingjing, hoping to see if he was moved by her bravery.
But Xu Lingjing didn't spare her a look. He kept his eyes on Xingyu, his phoenix eyes swirling with some subtle, indecipherable emotion.
Ruan Qianqian’s heart skipped a beat, filled with a panic she had never felt before—as if something she thought was within her grasp might not actually belong to her at all. She forced herself to ignore these turbulent feelings and, in a fit of anxiety, reached out to grab his hand. She wanted to tell him clearly that there were people in this world who cared for him, and that he shouldn't be content to drown in a swamp of darkness.
But Xu Lingjing pulled his hand away. He closed his book and looked at her, expressionless. "Classmate Ruan, school is about to start. Please return to your seat. Don’t hold up the other students."
Ruan Qianqian’s eyes turned red with the weight of her humiliation. Tears welled up in her eyes. She bowed her head, seemingly to hide them, then covered her face and stood up, rushing to her own seat. She buried her face in her arms on the desk, her body heaving with sobs.
...
With Ruan Qianqian crying, an awkward atmosphere filled the classroom. The students went silent; her desk mate leaned over to whisper words of comfort.
Unlike the gloomy mood in the class, Xingyu leaned against the desk, lips curled in amusement, watching the scene like a heartless villain.
"Heh."
The System grew anxious. It realized its Lord Demon lacked even the basic grasp of social conventions: [Lord Demon, you shouldn't laugh when someone is crying. Humans will blame you for it.]
[But I want to laugh,] Xingyu said, tilting her head in confusion. She truly found the scene hilarious.
As expected, a classmate who couldn't stand it any longer—the meddlesome class monitor—pointed an accusing finger at her.
"Xu Xingyu, you made Ruan Qianqian cry. You need to apologize to her."
Xingyu’s eyes widened in surprise, her round, sparkling pupils making her look like a naive kitten. "Wasn't it Xu Lingjing who made her cry? What does this have to do with me?"
She turned to look at Xu Lingjing, her brows furrowed and lips pursed in a pout. "Xu Lingjing, it’s all your fault. You’ve made me take the blame."
Xu Lingjing watched Xingyu, the gaze behind his lenses dark and complex. His fingers, resting on the spine of his book, twitched slightly.
"I’m sorry." He lowered his eyes, offering a quick apology before turning to the monitor. "Monitor, I am the one who made Classmate Ruan cry. It has nothing to do with Xu Xingyu."
Xingyu curled her lip, looking utterly indifferent—she was exactly like the difficult, spoiled, and petulant female antagonist in a novel. She was the type of villainous person who, even with all the evidence laid out before everyone’s eyes, would refuse to admit a thing if it wasn't caught on camera.
Though it felt like a strange comparison, everyone present felt it was the most fitting description.
"We all saw that you were the one who made her cry! She’s sobbing, yet you’re still laughing. Do you have any morality at all?"
The male monitor, perhaps embarrassed, looked grim as he attempted to moralize her, his tone sharp.
Xingyu felt the vibration in her eardrums and found it annoying. She frowned slightly, picked up a book from the desk, and hurled it directly at the monitor’s face.
The monitor tried to dodge, but the book flew with such blinding speed—like a shooting star—that it slammed directly into his forehead.
"Ah!" He clutched his forehead and let out a piercing cry of pain.
The surrounding students were horrified, but Xingyu only smiled, as beautiful and delicate as a porcelain doll.
The monitor was driven completely insane by the humiliation. He lunged forward to attack, but before he could even get close, he was kicked to the ground by her.
He lay there twitching, his body curled into a bow as he writhed on the floor like a dried-out eel.