“I’m sorry, senior. I sincerely apologize to you…”
Mu Jia’en knelt on the floor, weeping pitifully. The group of followers standing in the outer circle grew restless, each one filled with righteous indignation, wishing they could devour the ungrateful Jiang Youwan alive.
Jiang Youwan didn’t notice those gazes. Through the layers of mist before her eyes, suppressing the urge to vomit rising in her throat, she simply stared quietly at Huo Linyuan.
Mr. Huo was a good person who had shown her much kindness.
As repayment, she should keep her distance from such a good person.
That was how it should be, exactly how it should be.
It was fine, it was fine.
It was best if he disliked her. She ought to draw a clear line with the Huo family anyway.
Her limbs felt cold, her legs weak and unsteady.
In that moment of swaying instability, everything before her blurred.
Perhaps it was only half a second, or maybe not even that long.
The tall figure at the doorway reached her side with the swiftest speed. Long, strong arms caught her, and the faint, cool scent of wood once again enveloped her tightly.
“Wanwan?”
The man’s deep voice resonated with the vibration of his chest, the clear, pleasant scent drifting around her, yet it made Jiang Youwan’s eyes burn with heat.
At this moment, she suddenly didn’t know how to face Huo Linyuan.
In the gloomy, shadowed first half of her life, she had always faced pressure, insults, and condemnation alone. No one had ever stood firmly by her side, accompanying her through everything.
But she had just hit someone, and everyone had seen it.
She looked so fierce, so unreasonable. Mr. Huo would surely despise her now.
Her dark, thick lashes fluttered down, resting beneath her eyes. With the slight trembling of her eyelids, she whispered very softly, “Thank you.”
Her delicate voice floated in the air, like a swaying kitten’s tail—clearly having endured so much grievance, yet still trying hard to hold itself up.
Huo Linyuan lowered his dark, ink-black eyes to look at her, not sparing even a momentary glance for anyone else.
“What’s going on here? What happened?”
The slightly overweight Principal, out of shape from lack of exercise, walked even slower than Huo Linyuan and the others.
But as soon as he reached the scene at the entrance of the art studio, he saw the chaotic sight inside—
Some students held drawing boards, others stood around the room, all wide-eyed and stunned.
Jiang Youwan, the outstanding student from the art department, looked deathly pale, as if she might collapse to the floor at any moment.
The Principal’s heart leaped into his throat, pounding anxiously.
Others didn’t know why the wealthy Mr. Huo had been donating to S University all these years, assuming it was simply his support for education.
But he knew perfectly well.
If not for this Jiang student, how would they have had the luck to encounter this god of wealth…
Huo Linyuan had been pouring mountains of gold and silver into the school. If this young student so much as scraped her skin, Huo Linyuan would probably skin him alive!
“Class is in session. Why are you all crowded here?”
The Principal shouted loudly. Mu Jia’en, who had fallen to the floor, seemed to finally find her pillar of support. She cried even harder.
“Principal, Senior Jiang Youwan has really gone too far this time. I didn’t get angry when she cut my arm with a craft knife this morning, but how could she hit me in front of so many people—”
She deliberately tilted her head, revealing her face—already treated but struck again.
Although Uncle Huo’s arrival was unexpected, he certainly couldn’t openly defend Jiang Youwan in front of so many people.
Today’s plan had gone relatively smoothly. Everyone had witnessed it firsthand, and the Principal had seen it too. Such a severe incident couldn’t be easily dismissed in public.
She wanted Jiang Youwan to face punishment, preferably losing everything.
Wasn’t she the outstanding student in the art department? Wasn’t she about to be named an outstanding graduate?
In the final year before graduation, just as Jiang Youwan was on the verge of success, she would destroy her once again!
A malicious glint flashed in Mu Jia’en’s eyes as she continued to cry and make a show of shouting:
“I’m calling the police!”
“This is campus bullying—I’m calling the police!”
“Hello, is this 110?”
A young man’s voice chimed in. Mu Jia’en looked up abruptly and saw a young man holding a file folder, wearing a mocking smile with a hint of disdain at the corner of his mouth.
“This is S University at 312 Lin Cheng Middle Road. Thank you for your hard work, officers.”
Mu Jia’en was stunned.
She had only wanted to pressure the school, to make them afraid and quickly settle the matter to avoid trouble.
She didn’t actually want to involve the police.
But the man decisively hung up the phone, holding his phone in his slender fingers and shaking it at her.
“Miss, our legal team will be here shortly. You may also want to contact a lawyer.”
Mu Jia’en cast a pleading glance at Song Yanshi and her group of followers, but now they were all behaving meekly, shrinking their necks like timid quails.
Mu Jia’en called out to the Principal again, whose expression grew even more irritated, as if smoke were about to billow from his nostrils.
Panicked, Mu Jia’en turned her attention once more to the presence that everyone feared.
“Uncle Huo, Uncle Huo, do you remember me…”
Her face was filled with urgency, her eyes pleading.
But the man, as handsome as a god, didn’t even glance at her. Instead, he reached out with his well-defined hand and grasped Jiang Youwan’s slender wrist.
He turned her soft, pale palm upward.
Frowning, his sharp profile tensed, and his voice seemed to carry a frosty chill.
“Did you hit her with this hand?”
As the fact was brought up again, Mu Jia’en shrieked:
“Yes! Uncle Huo, she just hit me with this hand—”
Jiang Youwan, whose wrist was held, remained silent for a moment before nodding gently.
She had prepared herself for everything.
After all, she had always been disliked by everyone. If…
If Mr. Huo started to dislike her too, her sadness would only increase a little.
She was already used to such days. A little more sadness wouldn’t matter.
A low sigh escaped the man, drifting through the air. His clear, elegant phoenix eyes lifted, filled with a tenderness that softened hearts.
“Her face is too thick—it bruised our Wanwan’s hand.”
Mu Jia’en’s sharp voice caught in her throat.
Countless gazes eagerly fell on the girl’s hand, as if trying to witness the faint redness on her palm.
The girl’s suspended hand trembled slightly, her slender fingers curling involuntarily.
She heard the man’s voice, his breath seeming to brush against her ear.
“Next time someone slanders you, you can call me.”
“If you really have to take matters into your own hands, remember to use a tool.”
The man’s icy, sharp gaze fell upon the instigator. His crimson lips curved into a faint, chilling arc, and his unfathomable eyes were filled with a cold, menacing intensity.
“After all, the other party came prepared, willing to harm themselves just to frame our Wanwan.”
“For such a person, a mere slap is far from enough.”