Hua Rong stormed down the hallway, papers clutched in her hand, her steps echoing sharply against the tiled floor. Her hair was slightly messy from the wind and stress, and her face carried the unmistakable expression of someone teetering on the edge of a breakdown—or a dramatic monologue.
When she turned the corner toward the office, she skidded to a stop.
Xu Wenhan and Bai Xinchen were standing just outside the door, casually leaning against the wall as if they'd been waiting for something entertaining to happen. Apparently, she had arrived right on cue.
Bai Xinchen straightened at the sight of her disheveled state. "What happened to you?"
Hua Rong stared at him like he'd just asked if the sky was blue. And then—she snapped.
"What happened?" she repeated, voice rising with each word. "Are you seriously asking me what happened? Do you think doing rounds and checking on those boys—who practically hate me just for breathing the same air—is easy?"
Bai Xinchen blinked, caught off guard by the sudden outburst.
"Especially those Section C boys! I don't know what they think they are—royalty? Wild animals? Cursed spirits with too much time and zero respect?" She let out a huff, waving her paper like a white flag. "If it weren't for Wuhao Li stepping in and keeping things from turning into a full-blown mutiny, I swear I would've thrown someone out a window today."
Xu Wenhan chuckled, arms crossed. "You know, when you said you'd take the job, I thought, 'Five thousand a day? That's insane.' But now…"
"Now it doesn't sound like enough, does it?" she finished for him, eyes wide and exhausted. "I should be charging double for emotional damage."
He let out a dry laugh. "I still don't know what possessed you to give that flashy, motivational speech on that day. But I do know this—you managed to piss off half the school in one glorious moment."
"Oh, thank you," she groaned, dramatically pressing a hand to her forehead. "Wonderful to be reminded."
She pushed forward toward the office door. "Anyway, move. I came to submit this report, not to be lectured by the peanut gallery."
Bai Xinchen blocked her path with a lazy hand. "You can't go in yet."
Hua Rong froze mid-step. "Why not?"
"Xu Lingwei's inside. He's talking to Headmaster Jian."
She stared at him, then flopped back against the opposite wall with a long sigh, arms dangling at her sides.
"Great. So now I wait in the hallway like a misbehaving kindergartener."
Xu Wenhan grinned. "At least you didn't throw anyone out a window. That's progress."
"I almost did," she muttered. "And I still might."
The three of them stood there, the air thick with exhaustion, quiet amusement, and a mutual understanding that life at this academy was anything but ordinary.
And suddenly a loud thud erupted from inside the room.
Everyone froze.
Hua Rong's eyes widened, and without thinking, she pushed the office door open.
The scene that greeted her was straight out of a slapstick comedy sketch.
Xu Lingwei was standing stiffly in the middle of the room, looking almost too calm for what had just occurred. Headmaster Jian, on the other hand, was on the floor—his chair tipped backwards, papers and books scattered in all directions like the aftermath of a small explosion. His face was frozen in a look of absolute shock.
"…What did you do?" Hua Rong asked slowly, arching an eyebrow as she took in the chaos.
Xu Lingwei turned to her with a faint, amused smile. "I… disagreed with his opinion."
"Oh wow, what a scene!" Xu Wenhan said with a grin, whipping out his phone and snapping a photo without hesitation.
Bai Xinchen couldn't stop himself from bursting into laughter. "Man—what did you say to him? Knocked the wisdom right out of the chair!"
Hua Rong clapped a hand over her mouth, trying not to laugh but failing miserably.
Headmaster Jian, red-faced and furious, scrambled to his feet with an angry grunt. "You four!" he barked, pointing an accusing finger at them like he was naming suspects in a crime scene.
"Wha—us?" Hua Rong's jaw dropped as she stepped back. "Why us?! I literally just walked in!"
"Guilt by association!" he snapped, brushing himself off and glaring at the mess. "And for laughing!"
Xu Wenhan smirked, not bothering to look the slightest bit guilty. "Sir, technically, I didn't laugh. I just documented the moment for future generations."
"Delete it!"
"No promises."
Headmaster Jian rubbed his temples in defeat. "All of you… detention. Tonight. No excuses!"
Hua Rong sighed, muttering under her breath, "I need a raise."
Xu Lingwei looked toward her with a casual tilt of his head. "Still think five thousand points a day is enough?"
"Not even close," she replied, already imagining how the rest of her day was about to unravel.
...
Headmaster Jian sat stiffly in his chair, his fingers drumming irritably on the polished surface of the long meeting table. Though the room was filled with the heads of various prestigious academies, his mind was still clouded by the morning's chaos—students laughing in his office, chairs overturned, authority mocked. The memory stung more than he cared to admit.
Teacher Jiayi, seated quietly beside him, noticed the deep crease on his brow. Without a word, she slid a glass of water toward him. He took it with a nod, though the gesture did little to soothe the storm in his chest. She knew Jian well—knew how much he loathed troublemakers, how personally he took disruptions to the structure he so strictly maintained.
Across the table, the headmaster of Huangcheng No. 4 High School cleared his throat and leaned forward slightly. "Jian, about the upcoming interschool competition—there's something we've been discussing."
Jian raised an eyebrow, his posture tightening. "Go on."
The headmaster gave a pleasant, rehearsed smile. "We all understand your… interest in discipline. How you're trying to instill a sense of order in your students. Make them realize that being a delinquent isn't admirable."
"Indeed," added the headmaster of Shenzhen Lida Experimental School, adjusting his glasses. "And we were thinking—perhaps we could help reinforce that lesson."
Jian's eyes narrowed slightly. "What do you mean?"
"Well," interjected the headmistress of Nanjing Zhiyuan Academy, her voice sweet but sharp, "instead of letting this year's competition be completely fair—since, let's be honest, the odds are already tipped toward us—why not… ensure your students don't win? Not by rigging it completely, of course, but just enough to show them the true taste of humiliation. To let the consequences of their arrogance sink in."
Teacher Jiayi's fingers paused on her notebook, her eyes flicking toward Jian. He hadn't spoken yet, but his silence was thunderous.
Headmaster Jian stared at them, his gaze unreadable. "You're suggesting we sacrifice their morale for a lesson?"
"Oh, think of it as tough love," the Huangcheng headmaster replied smoothly. "If they lose—especially after misbehaving—they'll begin to understand that behavior has weight. And that discipline… is everything."
Jian leaned back slowly, the edge of the glass still in his hand. The water inside no longer rippled, but something far less stable stirred in his expression.
Teacher Jiayi remained silent, though inside, unease began to take root.
Because beneath the surface of their polished words and smiles, she could see it clearly now.
This wasn't about discipline.
It was a game of power. And their students were the pawns.
"After all," said the headmaster of Beijing Shuren-Ribet Private School, his voice laced with condescension, "those troublemakers of yours don't deserve to know the taste of victory."
The room hushed.
Headmaster Jian's fingers paused mid-motion on the glass. A heavy silence hung in the air as his gaze slowly lifted—sharp and frostbitten.
"…What did you say?" he asked, his tone deadly calm.
The headmaster let out a short, uneasy laugh, clearly trying to ease the tension. "Ah, don't misunderstand, Jian. I only meant that their behavior doesn't exactly reflect the kind of students you'd want representing your academy. Surely you agree?"
But Jian didn't so much as blink.
"I don't," he said flatly, his voice now like ice cracking beneath the weight of pressure. "Because unlike the rest of you, I don't believe in stepping on my students just to prove a point."
Around the table, a few of the other school heads shifted uncomfortably. The atmosphere grew heavier.
From beside him, Teacher Jiayi's expression changed. At first, her brows rose in quiet surprise, but then—slowly—a small smile softened her features. For once, Jian wasn't looking at his students with only exasperation and severity. He was standing for them. And she couldn't help the warmth that bloomed in her chest.
"These students you keep insulting," Jian continued, his gaze sweeping across the room, "are from Blackthorn Academy. My academy. Yes, they're messy. Undisciplined. Complicated. But they're mine. And if they win—when they win—it won't be because the system was fair. It will be because they fought harder than any of you ever thought possible."
He straightened, adjusting the edge of his blazer with quiet resolve. "So if you plan to rig this competition just to see them fail, then be prepared. Because if your finest lose to my worst… imagine what that says about you."
Without another word, Jian turned and walked out of the room, each step calm, precise, and unshaken. The glass of water sat untouched on the table, its surface now as still as the silence he left behind.
Behind him, Teacher Jiayi watched him go with a quiet smile—half pride, half relief. For the first time in a long while, she felt hope for Blackthorn Academy's so-called troublemakers.
Because their headmaster… had finally chosen to stand with them.