Teacher Kong’s office was in another administrative building—not far at all, roughly the same distance as the infirmary.

Out of respect and trust for her teacher, and because she wasn’t actually ill—just emotionally unsettled and in need of relief—Gu Qianqian walked alongside Teacher Kong, chatting sporadically.

It was nearly eleven in the morning. Sunlight began to brighten the world.

Yet inside the empty administrative building, the unlit corridor cast their shadows in eerie dimness.

Click-clack. The sound of high heels echoed down the hall.

A rare trace of unease crept into Gu Qianqian’s heart.

Beside her, Teacher Kong kept her arm linked with Qianqian’s, a familiar, gentle smile on her lips—the kind that made her seem like a caring aunt.

Seeing that smile, Qianqian shook her head, pushing the strange thought away.

Rumors had lingered since a year ago…

The girl who slit her wrists in a classroom…

She’d apparently had some unpleasant history with Teacher Kong.

Whispers about Teacher Kong’s misconduct surfaced too—but the police found nothing.

The case was closed: suicide due to “depression.”

The classroom was abandoned, casting a shadow over Chang’an Middle School.

Unlike schools that suppress truth to protect reputation, Chairwoman Ye Xiaoxian had insisted on a full investigation.

Even after the “depression” verdict, she openly criticized the police.

But without evidence, the matter was dropped.

Time slipped quietly by—until now.

Today.

A year ago, Gu Qianqian was still in middle school. Now, she’d finally entered the high school division.

She’d spent most of her student life in this school named after Brother Chang’an.

“Your recent work is good, but not quite there. Last time I asked you to stop by after school—why didn’t you come?”

“S-sorry! I had something come up…”

“No worries. Young people go out and have fun—it’s normal.”

Teacher Kong smiled lightly, gave Qianqian another lingering glance, and opened the office door.

Her gaze slid deliberately over the girl’s slender waist, budding chest, and softly curved hips.

She adored the girl’s legs—so graceful, so tempting.

She loved her eyes—so pure, so innocent.

But what she craved most… was the girl’s helplessness. Her collapse.

The office was tidy. Teacher Kong settled behind her desk, pulled a soft chair close, and gestured for Qianqian to sit nearer.

Qianqian obeyed.

Teacher Kong took a few milk candies from her drawer and offered them with aunt-like warmth.

Qianqian smiled gratefully, unwrapped one, and let the sweet dissolve on her tongue. Instantly, she felt a little better.

She wasn’t physically ill—just uneasy. A teacher’s presence usually soothed her.

As a top student, she was used to teachers’ favor. Awkwardness rarely touched her.

As Qianqian savored the candy, Teacher Kong poured tea—and slipped in a tiny white pill, unnoticed.

It vanished instantly in the hot liquid, leaving no taste, no trace.

Trusting, Qianqian accepted the cup.

“Thank you, Teacher.”

Other children had trusted too…

Only to fall into the abyss of Naraka.

The teaching profession wasn’t to blame—it deserved respect.

The fault lay with demons hiding behind kindness.

The tea slid down the girl’s throat. Kong Qinlan’s breath hitched.

Soon… the most beautiful girl in school would be utterly defenseless. Hers to ruin.

A minute later, Qianqian swayed.

Sweetness still lingered on her tongue—but fear had already bloomed in her eyes.

“Teacher…?”

Her wrist was seized. She had no strength to pull away.

Staying conscious cost her: lips bitten raw, crimson blooming at the edges.

“That’s it—don’t you dare fall asleep!”

“Or it’ll be too boring!”

A chill shot through her.

“Help… someone…”

Her whisper barely reached the door.

…

A girl and a boy sprinted down the hallway—past classrooms, past staring students.

They didn’t care about lessons.

Their hearts hammered.

No more waiting.

For the girl who died…

For the violated, silent girls…

They’d waited too long.

For a voice. For dawn.

Now, Chang’an and Jiang Jixue would wait no longer.

They would bring the criminal to justice.

Demon—return to the hell you belong in!