Time always slid quick as rain on glass when I napped in class; by the bell’s chirp, I was already awake.

“Tangxue… you slept in class again.” Her voice drifted like morning mist through desks.

“Mm.” I hummed, sleep clinging like dusk on my lashes.

“So this time you’re studying with me when we head back!” Her cheer rang like a brass bell.

“Mm… don’t wanna.” My refusal was cool as moonlight.

“No way! I won’t let you slip free no matter how loud you yell!” Her resolve bristled like thorns.

I hadn’t yelled at all… My thought drifted like a leaf on a pond.

“I won’t. I know these basics already; I won’t waste rest time.” My tone was flat as a still lake.

“Then why did you come to this school?” A soft voice rose behind me, cold as a shadowed brook.

It was a voice I could never forget—etched like a blade on stone.

Ah… Xuewei. Better run now, little sparrow before hawk-sight lands…

But once your collar’s caught, running is straw against storm, isn’t it?

“…”

“Where are you going?” Xuewei’s chill cut in, clean as frost on glass.

“…Home. I want to sleep.” My wish hung small as a lantern in fog.

“Sleeping in class, souring the room, seeing a teacher and trying to escape—bold, little brat. It’s only been days since term started, and you’ve scratched my bottom line thin as paper. We should talk.” I turned, wary as a deer, expecting fire or snide barbs; instead I met a poker face like a lacquered mask, with bruise-dark circles under her eyes.

“What a coincidence, Teacher… you didn’t sleep well either?” I offered it like a reed to test the current.

“Yeah. I spent the night thinking, and then went out to beat someone up.” Ling Xuewei didn’t waste words or care about the stares; she grabbed Qingsheng Tangxue by the collar like snagging a kite string and hauled me toward the door.

“Waaah—don’t yank, Xue—Teacher, you’ll tear the fabric! Wait, wait—I’ll walk myself… hey, you’re pulling my skirt!”

After that tussle, we left the classroom like a storm breaking, and the room burst into chatter like a shaken beehive.

“My gosh, this is brutal! Sleep in class and get dragged to ‘black room training’ by Teacher Xuewei—will she toss her straight to the far north? I heard it’s all ice out there.”

“Hope she’s okay. Prayers up.” The wish rose like incense smoke.

“No way, she’s definitely calling the parents! What are you all thinking?” Her certainty clanged like a tin gong.

Students around her traded odd looks, eyes flicking like fish in a pond.

“Why are… you all looking at me like that?” Her voice thinned like thread.

“Teacher Xuewei… never calls parents.” The whisper was a knife wrapped in silk.

“And those who tried flexing family background at her… suffered.” The rumor crept like a winter draft.

“Huh? I just meant having parents come warn that naughty student…” The girl stammered, sweat beading like dew.

“They say a student once used his family to pressure her. Then she beat his dad up in front of him… and then his dad beat him up after.” The tale fell heavy as a stone.

“Sigh, let’s drop this. If Teacher Xuewei hears, we’re dead.” The caution flicked like a crow’s wing.

“Hey, hey! Are you even listening to me?”

…

In Xuewei’s office, I sat upright across from her, nerves fluttering like moths under a lamp while her gaze pinned me.

Elbow on her temple, she watched me with a calm like deep water. “Speak. What did you do wrong?”

Wrong? My sins were a string of black beads—if I named them, you might kill me on the spot.

From that night I lied to lure you out to eat, to spiking your juice with booze and sleeping pills and accidentally swapping in a love draught; then binding you with rope and a three-day seal like vines, dumping you in a black room… Looking back, the only reason Xuewei didn’t string me up and beat me is she hadn’t confirmed who I am. If I cling to that, maybe I’m safe, right?

Yes. Hold that line like a cliff edge.

“I…” I met my reflection in Xuewei’s eyes, and the words I’d primed snagged like grass on a boot. “I shouldn’t have slept in class… Teacher.”

“That’s it?” Her reply was dry as sand.

“…”

“Shouldn’t we talk about the last few days? You opened the seal on your own, caused a canyon flood, and haven’t told me. I did my homework. That big oaf—the Troll—was raising Goblins to search for a legendary relic.” Her voice tightened like bowstring.

“That relic is dangerous. Its bite is no less than a bomb that could wipe Starfate City off the map. What if it turned on you? Do you even know—if you died, I—” Emotion burst like lightning, and Xuewei grabbed my collar, knuckles pale as bone.

“I’m not the scepter’s owner.” My heart thudded like a drum. So she saw through it anyway? Did Xuewei already know it all?

“Then we’re fine.” Ling Xuewei exhaled, shoulders easing like snow melting, and sat back.

“…”

“So the scepter’s owner is your teammate then? That little girl who cares about you?” Her brow creased in disgust, like smelling rot. “Don’t let her touch filthy things.”

“What filthy things? Teacher Xuewei, what are you talking about?” My question flicked like a sparrow.

“Undead, who walk the seam of life and death. Stay far from them. And remember—don’t believe a single word they say.” Her warning fell cold as cemetery shade.

“Oh. Got it.” So Xuewei had history. That god had called themselves the god of death; the scepter must be tied to the undead. Grave-bonds deserve caution, like nettles under snow.

“Right. You still haven’t explained how you broke the seal below.” We returned to the starting stone.

“Ah… uh… well…” I skimmed through the chaos, the misfire, the hole in the ground, and the discovery of the relic—pared down like carving to the bone.

“…How is that different from saying nothing?” Her stare was flat as slate.

“That’s how it went. I said it.” My shrug was small as a reed.

“…” Xuewei paused, refusing to get led around by my tide. “Okay, deep waters hidden. You took a nightmare dungeon and played it on braindead mode. Looks like you’ve got very formidable parents.”

Parents? I have none; I’m just an orphan nobody wanted… No—now, I do have one.

Wait! Why ask this? She still hasn’t guessed who I am!

My eyes rolled like marbles; a whole scam-sister playbook spun up bright as lanterns.

“Yep! My mom is super strong—she can pin a full-size dragon to the ground and pound it!” I bragged with fireworks.

Tch. A Troll is the size of a dragon. I can do that. Xuewei’s thought flicked like a hidden blade.

“And my mom’s cooking? Legendary.” The lie hurt like a thorn pressed to skin.

Cooking? You can learn that. Her answer inside was neat as folded cloth.

“My mom—”

“Enough! I’m not here for you to boast about your parents! Where’s your guardian’s contact info? I want a talk.” Xuewei slammed the desk—bang—like thunder on a clear day.

By luck, students just off class heard that crack and the words; they scattered back to homeroom like sparrows, carrying gossip like seeds.

“…” What now… I don’t have any way to reach Dreamsound.

“Ah, Teacher, I just remembered—I don’t have my mom—’s contact.” The hitch caught like a fishbone.

“…” Ling Xuewei sat there, smoke-dark anger rising like a forge; today, she was absolutely at her limit.