18 – Four Birds, One Arrow
The other students had been studying on their own in the classroom the whole time. Even though they were eager to know how things would unfold and what kind of resolution would follow, no one dared to cause trouble during Yao Lu’s most furious moment. Everyone remained obedient and well-behaved.
After a while, everyone saw Su Hangyi walking back alongside a middle-aged man. The man harshly kicked him inside:
“Hurry up, don’t waste my time!”
Su Hangyi, having been kicked in front of everyone, felt even more humiliated on top of his already unpleasant expression. His eyes were bloodshot.
Just being watched by everyone made him feel as if he were being sliced into a thousand pieces. He didn’t dare breathe too loudly, trying to minimize his presence as much as possible.
The emotions on him were incredibly complex—a mix of shame, anger, guilt, and sorrow.
Watching this, Fu Yao felt nothing but pure satisfaction.
Anyone who dared to target someone she intended to protect would inevitably reap the consequences of their actions.
Su Hangyi picked up his backpack and books, ready to leave.
Some of those around who had long disliked Su Hangyi laughed and asked, “Brother Su, will you be coming back in the future?”
Su Hangyi was in no position to act as boldly as he once did. Now, like a tiger fallen to the plains, he could only glare at them with his eyes, enduring the humiliation as he quickened his pace to leave.
As he walked out the door, the middle-aged man outside smacked him on the head.
“You’ve completely disgraced us!”
And then he was gone.
Everyone began discussing, mostly speculating about whether Su Hangyi would return or not.
Fu Yao wasn’t interested. Whether Su Hangyi came back or not didn’t matter to her; what mattered was that the little wolf cub’s innocence had been restored.
Not long after, Jin Zhi appeared at the back door of the classroom, clutching five red banknotes, and was immediately noticed by Fu Yao.
Their eyes met. Fu Yao’s eyes curved like a bright moon, clear and serene. In that silent moment, it felt as though everything had been said.
Fu Yao said, “Congratulations.”
Jin Zhi’s emotions were tinged with a shy pink, but he still pretended to look fierce as he returned to his seat.
Fu Yao was used to this. She was grateful for her ability to see others’ emotions.
No matter how fiercely he pretended, she could always see how adorable he truly was.
As he looked at the five hundred yuan in his hand, he couldn’t help but recall how Su Hangyi’s father had deliberately let go of the money just as he was handing it over, scattering the bills on the floor and forcing him to pick them up one by one.
It was undoubtedly a humiliation. Jin Zhi knew that Su Hangyi’s father had to save face in front of the teacher, but deep down, he was disdainful.
This was a humiliation for not willingly taking the blame for Su Hangyi’s wrongdoing.
He clenched the money even tighter, his lips pressed into a thin line.
He needed money—a lot of it.
He tucked the money into his canvas bag, took a moment to breathe, and then took out his homework to continue writing.
As he wrote, he would pause occasionally, wondering who had helped him.
Maybe it wasn’t about helping him but simply about disliking Su Hangyi.
After all, someone like him… how could he be worth such an effort?
Not long after, Yao Lu, having composed herself, returned to the classroom. Though she wore a smile on her face, Fu Yao could see that her emotions were far from calm—ready to ignite at the slightest provocation.
It seemed she had been deeply angered by Su Hangyi and his father.
Standing at the podium, she said:
“Let’s not discuss today’s incident any further. I hope similar issues won’t arise in our class again. Also, I hope those who previously spoke ill of Jin Zhi will step forward and apologize to him.”
In that moment, everyone fell silent.
They glanced at each other, but no one showed any intention of stepping forward voluntarily.
People often forget the sins they’ve committed when facing judgment, desperately hoping for the judge’s oversight and forgiveness.
But this is precisely the behavior that most easily provokes the judge.
“So no one is going to speak up?”
“Do I need to call you out one by one?!”
Everyone was uneasy. Whoever stepped forward first would inevitably become the most conspicuous, essentially tearing open their ugly selves for everyone to scrutinize, gathering all those judgmental gazes upon them, leaving them riddled with invisible wounds.
At this moment, Fu Yao silently stood up, her face filled with genuine remorse without a trace of pretense. She slightly turned toward Jin Zhi, bowed sincerely, and apologized earnestly:
“Jin Zhi, I’m sorry.”
This was an unexpected turn of events for everyone, because they all knew very well that Fu Yao had never participated in the slander or insults against Jin Zhi from beginning to end.
Even Jin Zhi was taken aback, raising his head to stare blankly at Fu Yao, noticing the faint smile on her face—like warm sunlight melting frozen snow.
He quickly understood.
When everyone else was scurrying for cover, those brave enough to step forward could provide others with a great sense of security and redemption.
Fu Yao was not guilty, yet she stood in the first position, which made everyone else breathe a sigh of relief. Whether they had harmed him or not, they all stood up one after another, bowed to him, and apologized in unison:
“Jin Zhi, we’re sorry!!”
The voices were loud and clear. This was a feeling Jin Zhi had never experienced before in his life—indescribable, like a warm current rushing through his entire body from head to toe, making his brain burn with intensity, his rationality nearly scattering.
It felt unfamiliar, it felt good, it felt joyful.
Fu Yao was certain she had once again seen a faint orange glow around Jin Zhi—restrained, as if afraid someone might discover his happiness.
She felt it was all worth it.
Jin Zhi also understood very well the crucial role Fu Yao had played in allowing him to experience this feeling.
He pursed his lips, lowered his head, his ears secretly turning red. His breath escaped quietly through his clenched teeth as he struggled to part his lips:
“Th… thank you.”
After saying this, he quickly buried himself in his homework, pretending nothing had happened.
But the burning heat and redness behind his ears couldn’t deceive anyone.
Fu Yao was stunned, completely unprepared for this unexpected delight. Her heart leaped with joy, like a young girl with a little figure screaming inside her chest.
Ahhhhhhhhh!
He thanked her!
He’s so adorable, so cute!
This little wolf cub actually knows how to be grateful!
Ahhhhhhhhh, mommy loves you, mommy cheers for you!
Fu Yao knew very well how rare it was for people like them to genuinely say thank you from the heart.
She became even more certain of her earlier speculation.
Jin Zhi had not yet been consumed by this dark environment, losing his inherent goodness.
She had long fallen into the mud, becoming a flower of evil.
But he was different—he still had a chance to break free!
Thinking of this, the smile in Fu Yao’s eyes deepened, her heart blooming with joy.
…
The teachers were pleased to see their students respond this way and took note of Fu Yao’s guidance, silently giving her extra credit in their minds.
After sitting down, the other students all turned their gazes toward Fu Yao, giving her a thumbs-up with their fingers.
Thank goodness you reacted so quickly—that was amazing, sis!
This time, Fu Yao achieved a resounding victory, killing four birds with one stone.