"Yejia Yin."

The black-haired girl’s gaze sharpened. Her previously darting, lively eyes stilled, fixed intently on my reaction.

"It sounds lovely!" I quickly smiled. Though prompted by her gesture, the compliment was sincere. Her name radiated pure girlish charm—a truly beautiful name. Unlike mine… wait, no, my name has its own girlish flair too.

Yejia Yin kept staring straight at me, unmoved by my words. Huh? Did I say something wrong? I wondered if she was so outstanding her name often appeared in rumors and papers. Was she testing whether I’d heard of her?

Oh no. Heaven knows I’m a well-behaved high schooler, buried in studies and hobbies. Not totally isolated, but gossip? Absolutely not. Who topped city mock exams, who won Olympiads in math or coding, who took first in violin or piano competitions, or which girl bravely subdued thugs—I knew none of it!

Yejia Yin must be one of those stars, probing my awareness. That seemed the likeliest guess. She just kept staring, silent, making me break into a cold sweat.

"Um… actually," I steadied myself, deciding on a tiny lie. "I transferred this semester. I lived with relatives in another province before."

"Huh?" She blinked, uncomprehending, and grinned. "Why say that all of a sudden?"

"I meant, since I’m new here, I’m not up on local news," I explained awkwardly. "Yejia Yin, could you share some of your experiences?" Translation: I’m clueless about your past glories, but I’m curious—tell me about awards or thugs you’ve beaten. As a liberal arts student, I thought my phrasing was tactful.

She finally got it, then burst out laughing. "Oh! You misunderstood. I’ve got no famous exploits."

Not that reason? Then why had she watched me so closely after saying her name? I stole a glance up. Her sweet smile made my face burn.

Impossible. I knew my worth—no way Miss Lanying would fall for me at first sight. But it wasn’t an illusion. After my soul awakened, my senses sharpened. She’d definitely been observing my reaction.

But why?

All morning, I drowned in sixteen-year-old angst… was this even angst? Later, I grew absentminded. Yejia Yin lingered in the library, then returned to the playground to help. Ms. Fan firmly stopped her.

"Guests don’t work. Let these boys exercise more," Ms. Fan said, pointing at the group behind her. "Look at them—scrawny from lack of training!"

I eyed the boys, shortest at 175cm, and thought of my sub-170cm frame. I’d taken a bullet—Remington or Barrett style.

"Yes, we’ll handle it!" Boys from the next class chimed in, flexing their manliness. "Junior, you rest over there."

Petite Yejia Yin fit "junior" for these burly guys. But "rest nearby" exposed their intentions. I thought, *No way I’ll stay for your gawking. I’ll take the "junior" to play alone.*

Unexpectedly, Yejia Yin agreed. She sat aside, handing out water now and then. Freed from "serving" them, I trudged back to my post. Contacting performers was handed off early. Now I joined the stage laborers under Ms. Fan’s orders. After this morning’s shuffle, my status had plummeted from foreman to grunt.

"Move the podium there… yes, closer. Good. We’ll do wiring later. Everyone, go eat!"

With "Foreman Fan’s" words, morning work ended. Starving after skipping breakfast, I happily headed to the cafeteria. Yejia Yin, our sideline cheerleader, stood and walked out too. Where would she eat?

Also, by noon, the blonde senior still hadn’t returned.

…………

The girl’s expression had transformed. Same clothes, same face—but her aura was utterly different.

She frowned now. Her obvious morning test had failed.

In the underworld, Yejia Yin was a rising star—not quite household famous, but close. Yet that little fox showed zero reaction, even mistaking her for a show-off.

This famed Iron Blood faction leader felt, for the first time, things were tricky.