The girl’s breathing hitched as an invisible pressure enveloped her entirely. She had actually thought of it herself but didn’t dare face it. Subconsciously, she wanted to push the problem off to be dealt with later. But now that Song Fu had laid it out plainly, “Then what should we do?” The girl couldn’t think of any way to resolve it herself. It felt like there was only a dead end ahead.
This wasn’t something a student could handle on her own in the first place. Song Fu couldn’t give a clear-cut answer either. She simply explained everything clearly. “Chen Yu is using the video to threaten you into taking off your clothes at school right now. There’s no guarantee he won’t make even more outrageous demands later. You can’t satisfy him every time.”
“Should I tell the teacher?” the girl murmured. It seemed like that was the only option left.
She thought of her parents and wondered how she could face their anger and disappointment. What would the other classmates think of her? But just as Song Fu had said, she couldn’t be sure if Chen Yu had backups or where else he might have spread the video.
The girl pulled out Chen Yu’s phone.
The screen showed multiple failed password attempts and a brief lockout notice.
She couldn’t even unlock the phone.
Chen Yu had cursed her with all sorts of ugly words back then. “I’m a bit scared.”
Song Fu took her hand and said softly, “If you go, I can come with you.”
Meanwhile, the teachers’ office and Class B classroom had descended into complete chaos.
Starting with the Class B classroom: After returning, Lu Qunwen grew angrier the more he thought about it. His disgust for Ci Ye reached a new height. He recounted everything he’d heard and knew, emphasizing Ci Ye’s complete lack of remorse.
Ci Ye had done this kind of thing before and escaped consequences in the end thanks to his family’s filthy money. Unless they made a big fuss, it would probably end up swept under the rug again.
“We can’t just let Ci Ye bully someone from our class like this, right?” Lu Qunwen insisted. “If Ci Ye isn’t expelled this time, our school will be too disappointing. They’d throw away their dignity for money. Ci Ye’s reason for hitting someone was that he didn’t like the look of them. What if he doesn’t like someone else next time?”
The passions of young people were easily stirred. In just a few words, they were fired up and treated Ci Ye like the boss they all needed to take down together.
Someone slapped their forehead with an idea. “Why don’t we make a petition? Everyone in the class signs it, demanding Ci Ye’s expulsion and that he get out of our school.”
They didn’t know Ci Ye well, but they figured they knew their own classmate. Chen Yu was a good guy—united and friendly, always willing to help, with solid grades. He’d even treated his girlfriend well. “Right, where’s Zheng Ci?”
The girl was introverted and shy, with low presence in the class. They only now noticed she wasn’t in the classroom.
Over in the office, Chen Yu’s father had made a fuss all afternoon and finally met someone from Ci Ye’s side—not a parent, but a smiling tiger of an assistant in a black suit.
After a bunch of rambling, he finally brought up compensation.
Ci Ye tossed out a cold reply: “In your dreams.”
Chen Yu’s father nearly choked on his rage. There was no justice in this world—the guy who’d thrown the punches was acting so tough. “You really want to get expelled?”
“He hit me too, didn’t he?” Ci Ye snapped impatiently.
His mood was at rock bottom.
Everything else was irrelevant. Only Song Fu mattered.
Would Song Fu be affected? But that guy really was disgusting. Thinking back now, he regretted not hitting harder.
Chen Yu’s father demanded, “Tell me where he hit you.”
“On the face.” Ci Ye answered cooperatively, pointing to his left cheek and lifting his chin in utter arrogance. “His punch was too weak. Whose fault is it that you can’t see it?”
Chen Yu’s father raised his hand to demonstrate his own strength, but Ci Ye’s family’s assistant blocked him. “Let’s talk this out nicely. How about we all grab a meal first? It’s getting late anyway.”
“Teacher, I’m here to deliver something.” Lu Qunwen appeared at the office door again.
Class B’s homeroom teacher hadn’t expected him to bring anything over. A bad premonition arose. “What is it?”
Lu Qunwen spread the paper full of signatures in front of everyone, lifted his chin, and said to Ci Ye, “A petition demanding Ci Ye’s expulsion and that he leave our school.”
Class B’s homeroom teacher felt a splitting headache. Things were already a mess on this side, and now more trouble came knocking. His tone grew stern. “Lu Qunwen, expulsion isn’t decided by you kids signing a few names. Go back to studying! Stop with this nonsense. The school will handle this properly.”
Lu Qunwen stood his ground.
Chen Yu’s father snatched up the signed paper, grinned smugly, and slapped the table. “See that? If your apology doesn’t satisfy me, expulsion is inevitable for you.” His mouth talked apology, but everyone present knew he was after money.
Ci Ye sneered. “Go ask your son if he dares to take it.”
“What? You little punk, planning retaliation?” Chen Yu’s father felt a twinge of unease, but he wasn’t one to be intimidated by a student. “Watch yourself, or I’ll call the cops. This isn’t a small matter.”
“I’m calling the police right now.”
The voice came from Zheng Ci at the door. Traces of tears still lingered on her face, and Song Fu stood beside her.
Song Fu glanced at Ci Ye, and he—who had been leaning against the wall—immediately straightened up.
The two homeroom teachers were baffled. Class B’s teacher recognized his student but was completely puzzled. “What police are you calling?”
Zheng Ci kept her head down, avoiding everyone’s eyes. “Chen Yu… he threatened me. I’ll tell the police everything else.” Her heart pounded fiercely. “Ci Ye only hit him to help me. Even if someone really has to be expelled, it should be Chen Yu.”
Zheng Ci blurted out the words she’d rehearsed in her mind countless times.
“What police?” Chen Yu’s father was the one truly confused. “Did my son hit you? It’s just a little thing.”
Zheng Ci gritted her back teeth, stung by the words “little thing.” “Go ask your son what he’s done!” Her voice trembled. “Teacher, can you come with me?”
Class B’s homeroom teacher and the grade director exchanged a glance. “Alright, tell the teacher what happened first.”
Zheng Ci didn’t want to broadcast it to everyone. She’d explain on the way.
Chen Yu’s father followed too, hounding them with questions over the phone, but no one paid him any mind.
The chaos in the office came to a halt as people left one after another. Lu Qunwen still clutched the so-called petition. Of course he knew Zheng Ci, but he couldn’t understand why she was here or why she’d say Ci Ye was helping her. “Did you pay her?” Lu Qunwen eyed Song Fu suspiciously. “Why’d she come with you?”
“She told me the whole story from start to finish. I gave her some advice. Got a problem?”
Song Fu felt helpless.
Before they came, Zheng Ci had called home first. The girl mustered her courage and haltingly explained her ordeal, bracing for scolding and fury. Instead, after a few seconds, she heard choked sobs on the other end—her family calling her silly, insisting she report it so the guy faced consequences, and offering to handle a school transfer for her.
…
In Song Fu’s opinion, they should have gone straight to the police. Coming to the office was unnecessary. But Zheng Ci couldn’t rest easy about Ci Ye’s situation. After all, he’d hit the guy to help her and even gave her the key phone evidence.
“If you want to know, go ask Chen Yu yourself.”
Song Fu couldn’t say more and reminded him, “Even if you find out, don’t go blabbing.”
Lu Qunwen finally sensed something was off. Feeling her impatience, his momentum deflated. “I’ll go ask.”
Song Fu nodded and turned to leave, now with a little tail trailing behind.
It was Ci Ye.
He followed half a step back, silent, just carefully gauging her mood.
His gaze, his build—his presence was too strong. The guy towered over her by more than half a head; ignoring him was impossible. Song Fu stopped, lifted her gaze to meet his.
Ci Ye spoke first. “Are you going to bring up breaking off the engagement because of this?” It was his only worry, the sole thing making him feel a bit of regret. He shouldn’t have punched the face—it was too obvious… But that face really was punchable.
“It’s not the first time.” Song Fu’s amber eyes brimmed with helplessness.
Was it that Ci Ye’s actions always drew this kind of trouble? He always showed up at the wrong place at the wrong time. If nothing unexpected happened, this matter would be quietly resolved in secret, just like the previous incident.
Rumor had it Ci Ye beat someone up, came out fine, and the other guy got expelled instead—for something disgusting: using his phone to secretly film up girls’ skirts and trying to sneak into the girls’ bathroom to install surveillance. Ci Ye, out skipping class, caught him red-handed, beat him up. The school found out but didn’t publicize it—one to protect the school’s reputation, two to avoid scaring the girls.
And conveniently, Ci Ye didn’t care much about his own reputation. It’d be even better if it gave Father Ci a headache…
“What if you couldn’t beat him?”
“Nah, I knew what I was doing.” Seeing Song Fu wasn’t mad, Ci Ye’s phoenix eyes curved up. “He only landed one punch from start to finish. See, right here—not even that painful.”
Song Fu had no comment.
Praise him more and that tail might wag to the heavens.
A scolding was unnecessary too. He’d done a good deed, after all.
“You should be able to go now.” Song Fu noticed the assistant, unsure whether to leave or stay, and felt a mix of amusement and exasperation. “If Uncle Ci asks, just say Ci Ye was acting bravely for a just cause. It’ll be fine.”
“Got it, got it.” The assistant finally breathed a sigh of relief, said goodbye, and left. He’d been trailing at a distance earlier, feeling like a peeper spying on a young couple.
They’d only gone a couple steps when Ci Ye called him back. “Wait.” He turned to Song Fu. “Have you eaten?”
“I have.” Song Fu replied.
Ci Ye insisted, “No way, you’re still wearing your jacket.”
The school cafeteria food had a strong smell; clothes always picked it up after a visit. Song Fu disliked it, so she never wore her jacket to the cafeteria… Clothes she couldn’t remove would still smell, but it was psychological comfort—at least one item stayed clean.
Her lie was exposed. Song Fu: “…Had some snacks.”
“Snacks aren’t a meal.” Ci Ye’s phoenix eyes arched. He discussed with the assistant, asking him to get a slip from the homeroom teacher so they could leave campus for a proper meal.
As for why not go himself.
If he went, the teacher would drag him in for a barrage of questions. Too much hassle.