When the heavy wooden door shut with a soft click, the air inside the massive library instantly froze.
The dim afternoon sunlight filtered through the stained glass windows, casting long shadows across the floor, but Teng’s tall silhouette completely swallowed the light.
Jow’s cloth slipped from his hand, hitting the floor, but he didn’t dare to pick it up.
His entire body had gone rigid.
Teng walked forward with slow, measured steps.
The heavy thud of his premium leather boots echoed against the walls like a countdown, hammering directly inside Jow’s chest.
That familiar, arrogant, and cruel smirk was plastered across his face.
He stopped just inches away from Jow.
The suffocating scent of his expensive.cologne filled the narrow space between them.
“What’s the matter, transfer student?
Cat got your tongue?” Teng murmured, his voice dropping into a low, dangerous register that carried an unspoken threat.
He swept his eyes across the vacant library before locking his dark gaze onto Jow’s.
“I asked you a question, Jow.
How does it feel to clean the library all by yourself?
You were acting like a hero in the classroom, but now you’re here crying alone?”
Jow took a deep, shaky breath.
He clenched his trembling hands into tight fists.
He whispered to himself that enough was enough.
He had endured the humiliation in front of the whole class because the teacher was present, but here, in the shadows, he refused to let his remaining dignity be trampled upon.
took a step back, pressing against the wooden shelf, and looked straight into Teng’s sharp, dark eyes.
“What do you care, Teng?” Jow’s voice trembled slightly, but it possessed a strange, underlying grit.
“You already got what you wanted.
You ripped my notebook in front of Mr.
Steven and made me a laughingstock.
Why are you here now?
How much more do you need to torment me to satisfy your cruel mind?”
Teng didn’t expect a counterattack.
Usually, no student in this high school dared to look him in the eye, let alone talk back.
For a split second, Teng’s pupils contracted with sudden irritation, but the clever, menacing smirk returned to his face just as quickly.
He leaned down, tilting his head closer to Jow’s face.
“Torment?” Teng let out a dry chuckle devoid of any warmth.
“You call torment, Jow?
I’ve barely even started the game.
And you want to know why I’m here?
I’m just here to see how my new prey is enjoying his very first gift.”
Jow shook with a mixture of rage and helplessness.
“I am not your prey, Teng!
And I am not playing any games with you.
I came to this school just to study.
I have no grudge against you.
Out of hundreds of students in this school, why did you target me?
What did I ever do to you?”
Teng didn’t answer right away.
Instead, he began to circle Jow slowly, like a predator inspecting its cornered catch.
He brushed his fingers against a nearby bookshelf, checking for dust, before abruptly stepping back into Jow’s personal space.
He slammed his right hand against the shelf behind Jow’s head.
Jow was completely trapped—the heavy oak wood behind his spine and Teng’s broad chest right in of him.
“You want to know why it’s you?” Teng’s whisper was dangerously quiet, sending a shiver straight down Jow’s spine.
“Because everyone in this school bows down to me.
They do exactly what I say.
They dance like puppets under my influence.
But your eyes…
that first day you looked at me, there was no fear in them.
There was a strange defiance.
An arrogance.
And I…
I absolutely loathe arrogance, Jow.”
Teng reached out with his other hand, grabbing the collar of Jow’s uniform with a tight grip.
“You didn’t mention my name to Mr.
Steven today.
Why?
Do you think you did me a favor by staying quiet?
Or are you just secretly terrified of what I can do?”
Jow didn’t bother struggling against Teng’s grip, knowing he was physically outmatched.
He stared back fiercely, voice sharp despite his pounding heart.
“I didn’t do you any favors, Teng.
And I am not afraid of you.
I lied to Mr.
Steven because I know that uttering the name of someone as vile as you would only ruin my own dignity.
I kept quiet to protect my own self-respect.”
“Vile?” Teng’s eyes flared with sudden fury.
He yanked Jow’s collar harder, pulling Jow’s chest flush against his own.
“You have a massive mouth for a nobody.
You have absolutely no idea who my father is or the kind of power my family holds in this city.
A penniless, ordinary transfer student like you standing here talking big to me?”
Jow’s heart missed a beat.
He knew Teng’s family was the most influential and wealthy billionaire dynasty in the city.
Jow wasn’t afraid for his physical safety, but if he got expelled from this school, his academic future would be ruined.
With his parents gone, his fragile family was relying entirely on his success
Teng caught the brief flash of panic in Jow’s eyes.
He released his grip on the collar and lightly tapped Jow’s cheek with the back of his fingers, a degrading gesture meant to remind Jow of his place.
“Yes, there it is.
That’s the look I wanted to see,” Teng smiled with pure satisfaction.
“Fear.
Fear suits your eyes much better, Jow.
Remember, if that homework isn’t on Mr.
Steven’s desk tomorrow morning, the Principal will throw you out.
And if I want to, I can make sure no other school in this city ever accepts you.
So, whether you spend the night crying or writing, that’s your problem.
My game has just begun.”
Teng didn’t waste another second.
He turned around and walked out of the library with long, arrogant strides.
As the doors shut behind him, Jow’s knees gave out.
He collapsed onto the dusty floor, the tears he had tightly held back finally spilling over.
By the time Jow finished cleaning the library and stepped out of the school gates, twilight had already faded into darkness.
The campus was completely deserted.
Jow unlocked his rusty bicycle and began his slow journey home.
Every push of the pedal felt like a mountain to move; physical and mental exhaustion had completely drained his body.
Deep within a narrow, weathered alley on the edge of the city sat Jow’s house.
It was small, with peeling plaster on the walls, but it was his only true safe zone.
Leaving his bicycle in the small courtyard, Jow paused at the front door, rubbing his face to wipe away any traces of misery.
He forced a bright, reassuring smile onto his face walked in.
“Grandma, I’m home,” Jow called out softly.
An elderly woman emerged from the kitchen, leaning heavily on her wooden walking stick.
Her hair was stark white and her face was lined with deep wrinkles, but her eyes held a boundless, pure love for Jow.
“Why so late, my boy?
I was getting worried,” his grandmother said, gently placing a warm hand on his forehead.
“You look so pale.
Are you feeling alright?”
Jow took her fragile hands into his own.
Teng’s cruel threat echoed in his mind—’The Principal will throw you out.’ Jow compressed her hand gently and replied, “No, Grandma, I feel great.
It’s just a lot of new material on my second day, and I stayed behind in the library to look up some reference books.
Don’t worry about me.”Go wash up quickly, then.
I have hot rice and broth waiting for you,” she smiled warmly and shuffled back to the kitchen.
Jow walked into his cramped bedroom and placed his backpack on the wooden desk.
He carefully pulled out the ruined remnants of the notebook Mr.
Steven had handed back to him.
Seeing the violently ripped pages made his chest tighten all over again.
He had spent three sleepless nights crafting those notes, and Teng had destroyed them in a single second.
But Jow refused to break.
He resolved that he would not give Teng the satisfaction of winning.
Tomorrow morning, Mr.
Steven would receive a flawless notebook.
After dinner, once his grandmother had drifted off to sleep, Jow sat down at his desk.
His room lacked a desk lamp, illuminated only by a single, low-wattage bulb hanging from the ceiling.
He out a fresh diary and a black ink pen.
11:00 PM.
The world outside was dead silent, save for the occasional distant bark of a dog.
Jow began to write.
He strained his memory to recall the complex chemical equations and formulas from the first chapter.
His eyelids felt incredibly heavy, and his fingers cramped from the sheer exhaustion of the day, but a stubborn fire inside his chest kept him awake.
‘I won’t lose.
If Teng thinks he can break me this easily, he is dead wrong,’ Jow repeated the mantra silently in his head with every stroke of his pen.
1:00 AM.
Jow was writing continuously, his knuckles numb from gripping the pen.
Suddenly, the lights flickered and died.
The entire neighborhood had plunged into a blackout.
The room became pitch black.
Jow sighed heavily; it felt like even fate was turning its back on him tonight.
But didn’t stop.
He fumbled around in the dark until his fingers found a matchbox and an old, half-used candle.
He struck a match and lit the candle, dripping a bit of wax onto the corner of the desk to secure it.
In the dancing, unstable flame, Jow’s shadow stretched across the back wall like a towering giant—as if the shadow itself was a reflection of the unyielding strength hidden deep within him.
Under the warm, yellow glow of the candle, he resumed writing.
Page after page filled up with his neat, precise handwriting.
Sweat mixed with silent tears dripped down his forehead, but his hand never faltered.
4:00 AM.
The candle had melted down to a tiny, sputtering stub.
Dark circles hung heavily beneath Jow’s eyes.
Yet, a faint, triumphant smile touched the corners of his lips.
He scribbled the final line placed the pen down on the desk.
He closed the diary and rested his palm against it.
The entire assignment had been entirely recreated from scratch.
He glanced out the small window.
In the far distance, the very first hues of dawn were breaking through the horizon.
Jow let out a long sigh of relief.
He had won tonight’s battle.
But deep down, he knew that when he walked into school later today and Teng saw him standing tall, the real war would become significantly harder.
Jow steeled his heart; he had stepped into this forbidden maze, and he was going to see it through to the very end.