Caught off guard by the sudden strike, the well-trained Nangong Ruihui reacted instantly—sidestepping just in time as the girl’s fist whistled past her ear.

She’d never seen this girl since arriving at Yingshengya Academy. Only two possibilities: revenge or a sparring challenge. Otherwise, why attack without warning?

“Senior, I think you’ve mistaken me. We’ve never met.” Nangong Ruihui held her defensive stance. Clearing things up early was wise—she had no wish to become someone’s enemy by accident.

“Xia Clan. Xia Xi.” Xia Xi’s hostility vanished. She smiled and stepped closer.

“Don’t come any closer!”

Nangong Ruihui deliberately avoided looking at her. Those… impossibly generous curves swayed with every step—a sight that made even another girl feel shy.

Her raised hands, meant to block, accidentally brushed an inappropriate spot. Unthinkingly, she even gave a tiny squeeze… and froze. *Soft. Too soft.*

Her breath hitched. *I’m doomed.* This had to be the Xia Clan’s young miss. There was no walking this back.

She’d dug her own grave. Xia Xi had already stood down—they could’ve talked. Now? A total mess. Too late for regret.

A reflex from years of judo training: assuming attack, her hands shot out. But Xia Xi wouldn’t care.

“So the famed ‘young master’ Ruihui of the Nangong Clan… is a pervert? Eye-opening. Tonight, only one of us walks away.”

Xia Xi was proud by nature—no one manipulated her. She’d come simply to see the Nangong Clan’s celebrated heir.

Handsome. Charismatic. From afar, she’d lost the will to fight—just testing his skill.

But one rule stood firm: touch her chest, and face consequences. Death… or dare to become her husband.

Qualifications aside, Xia Xi’s crimson eyes burned. *Dare to grope me on first meeting?* If she didn’t settle this now, she’d have no face left at academy.

“Y-you… let me explain!” Nangong Ruihui stammered, retreating.

“Explain after you’re dead.”

One punch. Then four more. Off-balance, Nangong Ruihui blocked desperately with her elbows. Each impact thudded deep—her arms screaming in protest.

“Hiss—”

*Can’t stay defensive.* Xia Xi’s fists showed no mercy. If she didn’t act now, she’d fall for good. Restrict her. Now.

She lunged—a double-arm chokehold, collar gripped tight, pressure aimed at the carotid.

Xia Xi backflipped clear. Standoff. Judo wasn’t built for punching duels, but evasion was impossible now. Block or break.

Whoosh—

A flash of motion. Mu Yao spun, arms spread wide before Nangong Ruihui, eyes shut tight—ready to take the blow.

“Yao Yao!” Nangong Ruihui’s voice cracked. *If that fist hits his face… I’ll burn the Xia Clan down.*

Mu Yao was an artist. His face was his career. One punch could ruin everything. The earlier accident vanished from her mind.

“What a fool—”

Xia Xi stumbled back, fist halting inches away. No grudge with him. No reason to strike.

“Nangong Ruihui.” She blew imaginary dust off her knuckles, voice laced with scorn. “I overestimated you. Hiding behind a girl? Pathetic. We’ll settle later. Cherish this beauty—she’s worth it~”

Then she vanished into the night. Gone. As if she’d never been.

…

It was over. Nangong Ruihui slumped against Mu Yao, body limp, mind racing. *My fault. My carelessness.* One misstep, and everything unravels.

Xia Xi’s punches were fierce but untrained—pure luck she’d gained the upper hand. Next time? Never again.

“Mu Yao…” she whispered.

“Hmm?”

“You idiot!”

“*Me?* I charged in to save you! Your mood swings faster than flipping pages.”

Mu Yao pouted, utterly wronged. He’d been passing by with a giant bag of beef stew-flavored chips, almost walked away—but after a 0.1-second pause, his feet shot forward like rocket boosters. Heroics. Thankfully, no shame.

*Definitely not crushing on him. Nope. What’s to like about a guy anyway?*

He helped her sit on the pine tree’s iron railing and dashed off. “Phew—chips intact! Ten yuan saved.” Campus store prices stayed fair, even at Yingshengya Academy.

“You’re such an idiot,” Nangong Ruihui chuckled softly, eyes tracing the subtle curve of his retreating backside.

“Ruihui… who was she? Why fight?”

Bullseye. Nangong Ruihui fumbled. “Uh… long story…”

She couldn’t say *I accidentally groped her*. Mu Yao would never look at her the same.

“Xia Xi. Xia Clan. Also at Yingshengya—third year. Our clans… aren’t exactly friends.” Fragmented words. Safe words.

“Oh…” Mu Yao popped a chip in his mouth and nudged the bag toward her. “Try one, Ruihui~”