"Do you know this is illegal?"
Thrown to the ground by Zhou Wenhe, Heyue had no desire to keep up the act of a cowardly eighteen-year-old student. She raised her face and challenged him.
Zhou Wenhe looked down at Heyue, who refused to submit no matter what, and felt somewhat surprised. Among the students who had entered this empty classroom, not even the boys much larger than her had ever spoken to him in such a tone.
It did not matter, however. When it came to students like this, he had plenty of ways to handle them.
"Heyue, how could you block younger students after school and shake them down for money?"
She never expected Zhou Wenhe to be so shameless as to fabricate stories to manipulate her.
Gritting her teeth, Heyue cursed him, "Shameless."
Zhou Wenhe merely smiled, his voice low and his gaze contemptuous, "Heyue, do you think your parents would believe me?"
A jolt ran through Heyue's heart. Would they? She figured they would.
Her parents were not people given to complex scheming; how could they possibly imagine that a respectable teacher would frame his own student? Besides... besides, her parents did not really love her anyway—otherwise, why would they have left her behind in Qucheng for so many years?
It proved only one thing: she was a nuisance, and the best way to deal with a nuisance was to pretend it did not exist.
Watching Heyue fall silent with eyes gradually turning red, Zhou Wenhe triumphantly planted a foot on her shoulder, forcing her down onto the floor.
He had already dialed her mother's number. "Hello, is this Heyue's mother?"
Incredulous, Heyue stared at Zhou Wenhe. In her past life, hearing Yin Rou's voice had been a chance encounter several years before she was killed in a car accident. Back then, seeing the three of them living so happily together, she had not even had the courage to step forward and make herself known.
She never expected to hear her voice again under such circumstances.
How humiliating.
"Teacher Zhou? Yes, I'm Heyue's mother. Is something the matter?" Yin Rou's polite voice came from the other end.
That familiar voice instantly brought tears welling up in Heyue's eyes. For a moment, she could not tell whether it was the accumulated grievances of so many years, the longing, or the resentment.
"Don't..." Heyue lowered her head, a tear dropping as she whispered a quiet plea.
"Teacher Zhou, has Heyue caused trouble? Or did she bomb another exam?" Receiving no immediate reply, Yin Rou's anxious voice rushed through the phone.
Watching Heyue with her head bowed, Zhou Wenhe wore a satisfied smile at the corners of his mouth. After waiting a few seconds, he spoke in a leisurely tone, "Mrs. Heyue, Heyue's scores actually improved on the last monthly exam. I just wanted to call and let you know."
On the other side, Yin Rou visibly breathed a sigh of relief. After the two of them exchanged a few more casual remarks, Zhou Wenhe hung up.
He looked down at Heyue, who was quietly sobbing on the floor. This trick worked every single time. Kids with poor grades or impoverished families wanted nothing more than their parents' approval and affection, and what they feared most was those exact same parents.
Leaning down deliberately, Zhou Wenhe met Heyue's eyes. "Now, are you willing to hold out your hand?"
Wonderful. He had crushed another ant.
***
A lighthearted, youthful melody drifted from the broadcast system, floating out across the expansive campus to add a little touch of fun to the tedious, exhausting business of solving problems.
Luo Yilan gripped the railing and looked out. Down below, students streamed past in an endless, ant-like procession, snatches of cheerful conversation occasionally drifting up.
They chased and wrestled freely, yet whenever they passed other classmates, they would brake sharply for fear of bumping into anyone. As she watched, the corners of Luo Yilan's eyes and lips curved upward of their own accord.
"Dinner." A sandwich was handed over from behind. Luo Yilan did not even need to turn around to know it was Yue Zhou; the two of them had always been partners in the broadcasting room.
If the most famous student in Qucheng's high schools was Luo Yilan—because her striking beauty made her unforgettable the moment anyone laid eyes on her—
Such looks were matched by a sharp intellect that prevented any boy from ever looking down on her.
Yet among her peers, there was rarely anyone who could truly be mentioned in the same breath as her. Yue Zhou was one of them. Aside from constantly battling Luo Yilan for first and second place, he was also the sole heir to the Yue Family, Qucheng's leading conglomerate.
Born with a silver spoon in his mouth, he remained modest and easygoing, resolute yet devoid of hollow self-righteousness. His looks were perhaps the least noteworthy of all his attributes.
With a tall, slender frame and impeccably proportioned features, his innate good breeding kept a smile at the corners of his mouth no matter whom he faced, though his eyes carried an inherent detachment.
He was like a crescent moon over the boundless, deep-sea midnight—gentle and mesmerizing, yet turning into a scattering of broken light the moment you actually reached out to touch him.
It was a pity, however, that such an unapproachable flower upon the snowy peak harbored a lifelong devotion that remained one of the world's top ten unsolved mysteries, meaning romance was entirely absent from his life's itinerary.
Viewed in that light, he and Luo Yilan seemed quite well-suited, though Luo Yilan sneered whenever she heard such talk. "Who'd want to like that fox?"
"Where did this sandwich come from?" Luo Yilan asked, tearing open the packaging.
"A girl just gave it to me." Standing beside Luo Yilan, Yue Zhou looked out over the campus below.
Moving the slowest were the freshman students, who had the most time to spare. Those walking toward their classrooms at a leisurely pace while reading books were sophomores, while the most frantic were the seniors, whose damp hair had yet to dry as they sprinted toward the classroom with a mouthful of bread.
Yue Zhou found it amusing to watch the rushing students; such a small detail was enough to divide people into distinct groups.
"Did you accept it from that girl?" Feeling hungry, Luo Yilan took a bite of the sandwich. She ate in a deliberate, unhurried manner, her long eyelashes casting shadows across her fair face.
"Not really accepted..."
"Then you turned her down?"
"Not quite either," Yue Zhou smiled. "I just told her my ideal type was Madame Curie. The moment she heard that, she spun around and left, not even wanting to give me the sandwich—just tossed it aside so carelessly that Senior Big Yellow almost picked it up."
Senior Big Yellow was a stray dog adopted by the school gatekeeper.
"Yue Zhou!" Shocked, Luo Yilan stared at him, momentarily unable to swallow. Seeing her expression, Yue Zhou could not help laughing. "I'm kidding. Of course I bought it at the cafeteria myself. You actually believed that?"
Luo Yilan took a vicious bite of the sandwich and let out a light huff.
Yue Zhou begged for mercy, "Don't be mad. I just saw you looked troubled and wanted to make a joke to help you relax." Seeing Luo Yilan's expression soften slightly, he added, "Tell me, what's wrong?"
"I feel like my friends are keeping secrets from me." Luo Yilan sighed, her appetite gone. She leaned against the railing with the sandwich in hand, watching the glorious glow at the edge of the sky.
Even though Heyue had swallowed the test paper with impressive speed, she had still caught an accidental glimpse of an unfamiliar name—Wang Xiuya.
Who was she? Why didn't she know Heyue's friends?
And then there was Lin Xialing, rushing off somewhere in a hurry and refusing to tell her what had happened.
The three of them had always been close enough to share every thought. Thinking of this, Luo Yilan felt a pang of desolation.
"Don't you have secrets?" Yue Zhou reasoned. "People sometimes choose silence just to protect something, you know. The secret you're trying to uncover might actually be a double-edged sword. Luo Yilan, aren't you smart enough to understand such a simple truth?" As he spoke, Yue Zhou suddenly leaned in close to look into her eyes. "Still... I'm curious, Luo Yilan—do you have secrets?"
Luo Yilan paused, then shot back, "What about you? Don't you have any?"
"Why should I tell you? We're just ordinary classmates." With a smile in his eyes, Yue Zhou stepped back to put some distance between them. "I've cheered you up, so do me a favor and lock the door."
With a wave of his hand, he walked off alone, leaving Luo Yilan standing by herself in the warm, fading evening light.
Looking at his tall, bamboo-straight back, Luo Yilan shook her head helplessly. For the sake of the sandwich, she decided not to hold it against him.
***
As the sun sank below the horizon, Heyue was still sitting in the empty classroom while Zhou Wenhe had already left.
The leather belt Zhou Wenhe used was stiff and folded into several thick, hard layers. When it struck her palms, his expression bore no resemblance to disciplinary action; it looked far more like the venting of rage.
Before leaving, Zhou Wenhe had even punished her by making her copy a history exam ten times. But with both hands whipped raw and swollen, the pain forced her to stop and rest after writing just a few characters. Lifting her hands to look at her swollen palms, she carefully blew on them, hoping to ease the ache a little, though it did little good.
Had she still been eighteen, Heyue would surely have deluded herself into thinking that as long as she behaved and never crossed the line again, she would be spared further punishment.
Yet she was twenty-eight-year-old Heyue. Having lived through Jiang Shaoming's torture, she knew all too well that Zhou Wenhe's demand for her to "reach out" was merely a way to shatter her boundaries, and the days ahead would undoubtedly prove far more difficult.
Heyue glanced around the room—a specialized, abandoned empty classroom, furnished with neat, single desks and chairs, alongside Zhou Wenhe's practiced routine and phrasing...
Everything pointed to one undeniable truth: she was not his first victim.
Zhou Wenhe had access to every student's records; he was a master at exploiting their vulnerabilities. Moreover, one thing he said was entirely correct: orphans of the storm like Heyue had no one to rely on, no one to help them, and certainly no one who would believe them.
"Heyue, you're smart enough, I'm sure you wouldn't want your friends to have to attend civics classes with us too, right?"
That meant if she dared to breathe a word, anyone she confided in would be dragged down into the mire with her!
"Bastard!"
At the thought, Heyue vented her anger by kicking a desk, sending a ballpoint pen rolling across the surface until it dropped into a corner.
She sat alone, fuming in silence over the crookedly written workbook for a moment before forcing herself up to bend down and retrieve the pen. The friction of the floor against her palm triggered another wave of pain.
Drawing a sharp breath as she straightened up, she prepared to gather her things and leave when her eyes inadvertently caught the rows of exemplary essays pasted on the wall.
The paper had yellowed, some sheets barely clinging by a single corner—left behind, no doubt, by students from previous years.
Suddenly, Heyue froze in her tracks. Reaching out, she peeled back a test paper fluttering in the draft, staring in utter disbelief at the signature revealed beneath the covered exemplary essay.
"Wang Xiuya."