After returning, Ji Shu didn’t think about it anymore. She took a hot shower, made herself a cup of cold medicine, and went to bed.
In the past few days, she had been chatting on LINE with Flash Spirit. The other person’s availability was absurd, hardly like a student at all. Messages were replied to instantly, with barely a pause to type. Gradually, they became familiar with each other, occasionally sharing bits of their daily lives, though Ji Shu never talked too deeply.
She never felt like she truly belonged in this world. Keeping shallow, surface-level connections with anyone was enough.
She had arranged with Ruan Si’an to have a tutoring session on Sunday afternoon at 2 PM at the Clude Café in the city center.
Ruan Si’an’s foundation was decent, but she struggled with slightly more advanced questions. Ji Shu would go through a test with her, marking every mistake she didn’t understand, and then explain them one by one.
Fortunately, Ruan Si’an grasped the concepts fairly quickly.
Time passed, and Ji Shu glanced outside, estimating that in about half an hour she would need to head back. She looked down to send a message to her driver.
Suddenly, shouting and footsteps approaching caught her attention.
“Ruan Ruan? What are you doing here?”
The footsteps stopped beside the two of them. After a brief hesitation, someone exclaimed in surprise, “—Ji Shu!?”
Ji Shu looked up.
Three girls were standing in front of her. The one in the lead was tall, had lip piercings, a tattoo across her chest, and brightly dyed hair. The two girls behind her seemed to follow her lead, one of them being Qin Jia, whom Ji Shu had seen previously in the vocal class.
Seeing Ji Shu, the leader’s expression shifted to a mix of shock and anger. “What are you doing with Ruan Si’an again? Haven’t you had enough of being taught a lesson?”
Ji Shu glanced at the three of them, frowning. She didn’t answer their question, but asked back, “Who are you?”
“We’re Ruan Ruan’s friends,” said the tattooed girl in the lead, who had been silent until now.
She crossed her arms, spinning a lighter between her fingers, and sized up Ji Shu. Then she recalled, “You’re the one they were talking about before… Ruan Ruan’s middle school classmate, that rich, aloof young lady?”
She scoffed. “Doesn’t look like the daughter of a nouveau riche, more like a bookworm.”
Ji Shu didn’t respond. Whether it was from yesterday afternoon’s rain or something else, her head throbbed faintly again. Fragments of memories flickered in her mind, making her increasingly irritated.
She didn’t respond to their comments. Gathering her things from the desk, she prepared to leave.
“You haven’t answered yet—” Qin Jia stepped forward from behind, trying to block Ji Shu.
Ruan Si’an looked uneasy and explained, “Ji Shu is here to help me with tutoring. Don’t bother her.”
Qin Jia widened her eyes, a mix of disbelief and betrayal on her face. “Her? Tutoring you?”
“I thought her grades were above average?” she sneered, glaring coldly. “What could she possibly teach you? She’s got no real ability. Her connections are strong, sure, but my forum account was mysteriously banned before…”
“Think whatever you want,” Ji Shu said, not glancing at her. She slung her backpack over one shoulder and got ready to leave.
Suddenly, the lead girl with the lip piercing reached out a finger, pressing it against Ji Shu’s shoulder. She said slowly, “I remember now. I remember you.”
She pulled out her phone, swiping through a few pages in her gallery, then showed Ji Shu a photo. It was the picture taken of Ji Shu that day in the girls’ restroom.
“Qin Jia!” Ruan Si’an frowned and spoke softly. “Didn’t I tell you to delete that photo? Why didn’t you just delete it and even sent it out…”
Qin Jia’s expression darkened. “Ruan Ruan, why are you still speaking for her? Haven’t you forgotten how she used to—”
The lead girl’s action cut off their argument.
She raised her right hand, grabbed a drink from the girl beside her, and poured it over Ji Shu’s head.
Ji Shu froze for a few seconds, ringing in her ears, only regaining focus as the bitter coffee and ice-cold liquid slid across her skin.
“So it’s you, the girl who got Qin Jia’s friends expelled. Your whole family can’t stay in the capital now and had to leave the place they spent half a lifetime building,” the girl sneered.
“I thought you were supposed to be impressive. Turns out you’re just this weak, pitiful-looking girl, perfect for getting bullied.”
Before she could finish, the girl’s expression suddenly went dark, eyes like a deep well radiating a chilling aura.
Ruan Si’an’s face went pale. “Ji Shu…”
No one saw exactly how Ji Shu moved. The veins on the back of her hand bulged. With a gust of wind in front of her, Ji Shu raised her hand and, with lightning speed, swung her backpack toward the girl’s head. A sharp thunk rang out, and Ruan Si’an’s back broke out in a cold sweat from fright.
The backpack, besides textbooks and notes, also contained a MacBook and a tablet. It was heavy, and just hearing the impact sounded painfully blunt.
The girl probably had some training herself, she dodged quickly, but the backpack still smashed solidly against half her face and shoulder, leaving her stunned with pain for a moment.
Ji Shu didn’t give her a chance to react.
She grabbed the girl by the collar, lifted her leg, and kicked her knee coldly and hard. Then, reaching back, she snatched an empty glass from the table, intending to smash it over the girl’s head.
But a cool, steady hand gripped her trembling wrist.
A calm, composed voice rang in her ear.
“Ji Shu.”
Ji Shu froze.
She stopped her motion and looked back. Xie Zhoulin was standing behind her, calmly watching. He wore casual clothes: a black long coat in a relaxed style, AirPods hanging around his neck, a backpack slung over one shoulder, dressed like he had casually come to the café to study, coincidentally appearing here.
Ji Shu slowly came to her senses. She released her hold, and the glass wobbled on the table before settling.
The girl reacted too, her eyes flashing venomously. She clenched her fists and stepped toward Ji Shu, but Qin Jia, drenched in sweat, held her back.
Ruan Si’an, seeing who had arrived, went even paler, all color drained from her face.
“P-president…”
Qin Jia nearly trembled, lowering her head, her words faltering. “This is Xie Zhoulin, our Student Council President, Chief—”
The tattooed girl almost laughed with rage. “What business is your damn student council president to me? Even if the queen herself were here today, I wouldn’t care, I’d still hit you—”
Before she could finish, Qin Jia whispered something in her ear. She froze, then shifted her gaze toward the window.
A bus passed through the bustling downtown intersection, huge LED screens on shopping malls flashing, office building walls streaming the campaign speeches and posters of the Democratic Party leader. Women in suits, with approachable, nationally recognized faces, flickered across the cityscape, omnipresent.
“….” The girl lowered her head, muttering a curse, and dropped her hands. She glanced at Ji Shu, her tone mocking and sarcastic. “So this is your backing?”
The continuous ringing in Ji Shu’s ears drowned out everything, she didn’t respond.
Nearby customers gradually noticed, but there wasn’t much to see, the confrontation ended before it could unfold.
Xie Zhoulin took Ji Shu’s backpack, didn’t say a word to them, and led her by the wrist toward the exit.
Ji Shu’s body was still tense, she didn’t resist and, like a wooden doll, let him lead her along.
Xie Zhoulin quickly brought her out of Clude and helped her into the passenger seat of the BUGATTI. Ji Shu sat stiffly, motionless. He handed her a clean towel inside the car. She froze for a moment, then blankly took it and wrapped it around her hair.
Xie Zhoulin turned up the car’s air conditioning slightly and asked, “Are you alright?”
“…”
“Those people,” he said, looking at her through the central rearview mirror, “I’ll deal with them later. Don’t worry.”
Ji Shu opened her mouth: “…Thank you.”
Thanking him for stopping her in time.
After a while, she began to feel a little better. Her tense body and breathing relaxed, and she lowered her head, slowly drying her hair.
Xie Zhoulin started the car and said, “I’ll take you home.”
Ji Shu gave him the address.
The car moved smoothly, soon leaving the downtown commercial area. Ji Shu dried her hair and glanced up at the young man focused on driving.
Xie Zhoulin didn’t turn his head, but it was as if he could sense her gaze. “Do you want to say something to me?”
Ji Shu turned her head, thought for a moment, and slowly asked, “You don’t think I’m the kind of person they say I am, do you?”
“What kind of person?”
“You should know about what happened in my middle school,” Ji Shu said, trying to keep her tone calm.
Xie Zhoulin didn’t avoid the question. He hummed softly. “I know.”
“Then why are you helping me?”
“Knowing is one thing, believing is another,” Xie Zhoulin said evenly as he drove. “What other people say doesn’t matter. What matters is how you see yourself. Do you think you’re the kind of person they say you are?”
“…”
“I’m the same. I have my own eyes and ears, I judge for myself.”
Ji Shu remained silent for a long time, then slowly, her voice hoarse, she said, “Thank you.”
By the time she spoke, Xie Zhoulin had already arrived at her home.
He glanced at her house and said to the girl who was about to open the door and get out: “If you really want to thank me properly, I have something I need to tell you in a bit. Go inside first, take a shower, change your clothes. I’ll wait right here at your door.”
Ji Shu froze for a moment. She looked at Xie Zhoulin’s expression. Perhaps it was the dim light, or perhaps the glasses obscured his expression, but she couldn’t see anything clearly.
He lowered his eyelashes, already sitting in the driver’s seat with his laptop open, head down, busy with work, leaving her no room to refuse.
Ji Shu pressed her lips together, said, “Okay,” and pushed open the door to get out.
After dark, black clouds began gathering in the sky.
The wind howled through streets and alleys, the darkness in the sky deepened, and humidity in the air increased. Many pedestrians had wrapped themselves tightly and hurried home, heads down.
In the shadowed corner of an alley, a boy wearing a black hoodie and a mask squatted quietly, head lowered, listening to a phone call.
“…Anyway, I’ll return from Rice next month. Don’t tell Mom and Dad yet,” a hesitant voice came from the other end. “Yaoxing, are you listening?”
“Mm,” the boy’s eyes stayed fixed on the screen.
The other person hung up.
Around him, a few drunk and scattered homeless people swayed, smoking leaves. Bottles fell, and cans rolled across the ground to his feet, but his expression didn’t change at all, he didn’t acknowledge them.
Only after the location on his phone safely shifted to the starred home address did he relax slightly.
He put his phone in his pocket, leaned against the wall, and slowly stood up. As he rose, the wooden baseball bat behind him became visible.
He pressed the brim of the cap under his hoodie down, stepped over the few homeless people lying on the ground, and moved deeper into the winding alley.
About ten minutes later, several figures gradually appeared a hundred meters away.
The figures supported each other, voices cursing loudly.
The girl at the front was on a voice call, her tone furious: “That girl is such a b*tch, she hit me so hard I can’t even lift half my arm now.”
The voice of the girl on the other end was muffled and calm: “I told you before, Ji Shu was only tutoring me. Why did you have to attack her in public? Let the past go, I don’t want to pursue this.”
The tattooed girl flared up, tugging at her injury and sucking in a sharp breath. She raised her voice. “Fine, fine, if you say we’re not pursuing it, then we’re not. I’m the idiot here! I used to think you were bold and straightforward, someone who always got revenge when wronged. Never thought you’d start playing that kind of game too. What, dazzled by Flandre’s atmosphere now?”
Ruan Si’an had nothing to say. “If you’ve got time to argue with me here, you might as well go to the hospital and get your injuries checked first.”
“I seriously think that if that bottle had actually hit my head back then, I wouldn’t even have a head left. F*ck, give me a few days, I swear I’ll get someone to kill her!”
Ruan Si’an was on edge. “…I’m warning you, don’t do anything stupid. You only just got out not long ago!”
The tattooed girl’s lackeys and Qin Jia hurriedly coaxed her, half‑persuading and half‑deceiving her as they took the phone away, offering a few placating words. The girl rubbed her shoulder, hissing as she cursed, but then she suddenly paused.
“Did you hear something?”
Qin Jia was busy reassuring Ruan Si’an on the phone and didn’t react right away. “Hear what?”
“Footsteps…”
She froze as well.
A bone‑chilling sensation crept up her spine, goosebumps and cold sweat broke out along her arms as icy wind whistled through the pitch‑black, run‑down alley.
Qin Jia tried to turn around and look back.
But she didn’t get the chance.
A hard object, carrying the rain‑cold wind, slammed down on her head, dead on, with full, ruthless force.
Qin Jia was struck with a dull blow, her vision going black as a loud ringing filled her head, pain spreading through her limbs.
Even so, two more solid thuds rang out clearly in her ears, one after another.
Before she could react, several more blows crashed into the back of her head, pounding her joints and back like a sudden storm.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of a slender figure half‑hidden in the darkness, a boy wrapped tightly from head to toe, moving fast and viciously. Gray hair fell across his forehead, and the icy light in his eyes was terrifying.
Very quickly, a phone clattered to the ground, its screen shattering. The girls collapsed backward without even managing a muffled groan.