The last class in the afternoon was club activity period—the time when students who’d joined clubs headed off to their respective meetings.

Classmates happily made their way to places like the Basketball Club, Tennis Club, or Board Game Club. But honestly? I couldn’t care less about any of that. Whether it was club activities or dealing with strangers, it all just felt like a hassle.

If I had a choice, I’d join the Go-Home Club.

But since Teacher Li had personally asked me, I had no choice but to report to the Literature Club.

The club’s assigned classroom was in a standalone building beside the gymnasium. Originally an old teaching block, it had been abandoned after the school expanded and built newer facilities. Later, the school allowed students to use it for club activities, assigning each classroom to a different group.

This would’ve been unthinkable just a few years ago. High school life used to be a rigid triangle: classroom, cafeteria, dorm. Forget clubs—even PE classes were nearly canceled to squeeze in more academic hours. *High schoolers should study. If not studying, they should be on their way to study.*

But after S City’s curriculum reforms, authorities redefined standards for key high schools, demanding well-rounded development in academics, sports, and arts. So Qingteng High finally started encouraging hobbies, setting the last afternoon class aside for club activities.

As one of the school’s largest clubs, the Literature Club occupied a spacious multimedia classroom on the first floor of the old building—big enough for hundreds.

When I reached the classroom door, silence greeted me.

“What’s going on? No Literature Club meeting today?” I muttered to myself, pushing the door open.

The room was completely empty.

“Huh? What’s this?”

I spotted a thick stack of manuscript pages on the podium. Picking it up, I read the title on the first page aloud: “*Elagonda Abyssal Boundary*… Ugh. What is this? A novel title?”

Just as I was about to flip to the first page, a panicked shout rang out behind me.

“Don’t touch that! Who told you to mess with my stuff?!”

Before I could turn around, my arm was wrenched sharply backward. A foot slammed into my back, and my face *thudded* against the podium. My cheek pressed flat against the cold surface, skin stretching painfully.

Manuscript pages scattered across the floor.

“Ow! Ow! My arm’s breaking! Seriously breaking! My bones… they’re groaning!” I yelped from the searing pain, slapping the podium weakly with my free hand like a dying fish flopping on a hot pan.

“Who are you? How’d you get in here? A thief?” The voice behind me was crisp and clear—a girl’s voice—but sharp as a cop interrogating a criminal. Next thing I knew, I’d be handcuffed to a radiator and beaten.

*Wait—I’m already being beaten!*

“Not talking? Tough guy, huh?” She twisted my arm higher.

*AAAAH!*

That’s it. My arm’s snapping. I’m gonna die here today.

Tears… I can’t hold them back.

I haven’t cried from getting beaten since elementary school! And now some girl’s grinding my face into a desk!

“St-stop! Teacher Li sent me!”

“Oh, you *know* Teacher Li? Do thieves do background checks now?”

“Mercy, martial sister—wait, that angle… NO! Seriously, NO—AAAAAAAH!”

I refuse to relive what happened next. That pain? I’m locking it in a coffin and taking it to my grave.

“Hey. How long are you gonna cry? I already apologized.”

The culprit was a strikingly pretty girl. Her long, straight black hair looked meticulously cared for but was simply tied in a ponytail. Her large, beautiful eyes glared at me like a murderer sizing up a victim. She frowned impatiently.

From the moment I saw her, my mind flashed to a hawk circling in the sky—and me, a rabbit scrambling helplessly on the ground beneath its gaze.

“I’m not… not crying! Hmph! These tears just… fell out on their own!”

*Ugh. So embarrassing. Crying in front of a stranger…*

She showed zero remorse. Fury burned in my chest. I scrambled up, ready to glare fiercely—

—and shot her a weak, watery glare.

What could I do? I was powerless. After how easily she’d pinned me down, if we actually fought, I’d be on the floor calling her “Dad” within three moves.

*Damn it. She looks so slim—how’s she so freakishly strong?!*

“Were you glaring at me?”

“Nope! Your imagination!”

The brute snorted. “Name?”

“…Zong Jun.”

“I’m Gong Xinyan. Literature Club president. What did Teacher Li want? Joining the club?” Her voice held a flicker of hope.

*Looking at this empty room? I get why… Did you scare all the members away?*

Gong Xinyan caught me scanning the deserted classroom. “Today’s an exception! I had stuff to handle, so no meeting. Normally, it’s packed!” Her rushed explanation sounded even less convincing.

Time to clarify: “President, I’m not here to join. Teacher Li sent me to mentor your writing.”

“Huh?!” She gasped in shock.

I assumed Teacher Li hadn’t told her. “The S City High School Joint Writing Contest is coming up. I’ll guide your work—you’ll be the one entering.”