In class, I’m practically invisible.

You know, the kind of person with zero presence—only acknowledged when the teacher calls roll.

My seat’s by the window in the second-to-last row—the so-called “protagonist’s spot.” Yet I’ve never gotten any protagonist treatment. Maybe it’s because I lack that special MC aura… or because I don’t stare out windows like they do.

Ah, not complaining though. Just stating facts.

I’m An Juncheng, born January 1st, 2000. Seventeen this year. A sophomore at Qiangshui High.

Average looks—decent enough for my parents, I guess. Black hair streaked with white. From afar, it probably looks gray. It’s genetic. Not from overthinking. Definitely not from… other habits.

My name comes from an old saying: “If others treat you with sincerity, never betray their trust.” Grandpa chose it. Meaning: repay genuine kindness with loyalty.

Pity your grandson has zero friends, Grandpa…

Ahem. Got lost in gloom again. Habit of mine—always expecting the worst.

Like I said, no friends. So I spend every school moment alone.

Staring out windows all day isn’t an option. My escape? Comics and novels. At home, I watch anime and movies. Not much of a gamer—I prefer watching others play.

Weekends? Sleeping and streaming films. Call me a shut-in? Maybe. But I don’t collect figures or cosplay. A half-baked otaku at best.

Yeah. That’s my boring life.

Sighing at this depressing truth, I closed the comic I’d just finished.

8:45 PM. Study hall. Still in the school library.

Most schools axed study hall, but ours kept it—mostly day students, no dorms. Ours has a twist: tiered dismissal.

Classic China-style ranking. Top 100 on exams? Skip study hall. Ranks 101–200? Leave at 7:30 PM. Below 200? Suffer till 9 PM.

Motivation tactic. Who’d want to stay till nine?

I’m rank 201. Unlucky.

But while others dread it, I don’t mind.

This library’s corner hides comics and light novels. Since discovering them last semester, I’ve camped here daily. Physical books beat phone screens—way more flavor.

Study hall doesn’t require classroom attendance. Just hand your homeroom teacher a slip signed by the librarian.

Four others do this too—different classes. Never tried talking. Library rules: silence is golden.

Expected crowds. Only five of us here. Guess they don’t know about the manga stash… Or maybe no one bothers asking me. Pathetic social life.

Librarian’s Teacher Yang—glasses, early twenties, long hair hiding half her face. Don’t fantasize about beauty. I’ve seen her. Let’s say… plain-looking. Zero chance of some novel-esque teacher-student romance.

Probably single. Why else work till 9 PM? Her face might explain why she’s unmarried… Even I, no looks snob, find it hard to accept.

Ahem. Rude of me. My bad.

Study hall ending soon. I returned the book and headed to the counter for my slip.

Leaning close, I whispered:

“Teacher Yang.”

“Hmm? Oh, Juncheng. Here for your slip?”

She glanced up, checked her phone. Knew why I came. We’re familiar—she uses my first name. Sometimes I help her carry boxes. No friends, but teachers like me. Homeroom teacher’s especially kind… Probably worries I’m bullied.

“Yeah.”

“Got it. Wait a sec.”

She tore a page from her notebook—*rrrrip*—loud in the quiet library. Folded, ripped it into strips. Prepared slips for everyone.

Then shockingly, she handed them all to me.

“Here. Take these.”

“Huh? All of them?”

Thought they were for others… Now I could skip study hall entirely. Was she… encouraging truancy?

No way. Must be convenience. Trusting me not to ditch class.

If she trusts me, I won’t betray that trust. Honor my name.

“…You get what this means. Nights aren’t safe lately. With these, you don’t need to come.”

Whoa! She *is* telling me to skip!

“Nights aren’t safe”? I’m a guy—what’s to fear? Unless killers roam the streets… but no news like that.

Wait… ah. Got it.

She wants to leave early.

Only five students here. Send us off, and she clocks out early!

Makes sense~ I won’t spill it, Teacher~ Maybe she’s got a date?

Nodding silently, I took the slips.

“Yikes!”

My fingers brushed hers. She jolted back, snatching her hand away. Slips scattered.

A scene meant for pretty girls… happening with my “youthful” teacher. Zero excitement.

“S-sorry, Juncheng! Static shock, probably…”

She apologized, scrambling to pick up slips.

“No worries. I’ll get them.”

I crouched too. Static? Why didn’t I feel it?

After gathering them, I pocketed the slips, saluted, and left.

At the door, I heard her mutter:

“…Should I wear gloves next time…?”

“…”

No clue what troubles her. Early menopause?

The dismissal bell rang as I reached the gate. The gatekeeper opened up—I was first out.

Counting slips under a streetlight: eight. Eight days of freedom… But what to do at home?

“Huh? What’s this?”

Flipping a slip, I spotted drawings on the back.

Curious, I headed to a nearby park bench. Pieced the slips together easily.

A pentagram… no. Upside down. A *reversed* pentagram?

Isn’t that supposed to symbolize Satan or demons…? Is Teacher Yang in some cult? Bad news…

As I pondered what to do—

*Whoosh!*

A deafening sound behind me. I turned—

*THUD!*

Something meteor-like slammed into my temple.

The impact knocked me sideways. My head cracked against the reconstructed pentagram.

Blinding light seared my eyes—

Darkness swallowed me.

…

“Whoa! Crap! We hit a civilian!”

“Your fault for rushing! Let me see… Phew. Just knocked out. Leave him. Retrieve the artifact first.”

“Right… Wait! It’s gone!”

“What?”

“The Bagua Demon-Detecting Mirror—it vanished!”

“Impossible. Artifacts don’t just disappear. Check again.”

“I did! It’s *gone*! The bond’s severed too!”

“How? Bonds break only if the artifact’s destroyed… But the Mirror can’t be broken that easily!”

“But I can’t feel it! Waaah… Grandpa’s gonna kill me…”

“Ugh… Let’s go home first. Figure it out later.”

“Sniff… Okay…”