Third period.

The school track.

Class 6 of Grade 10, Class 3 of Grade 11, and Class 5 of Grade 11 were running laps around the track under the guidance of three PE teachers. Zhou Heng was with Lu Yile, while Zhang Xuan watched the students coming and going from the shade beneath the bleachers.

As Class 6 of Grade 10 came around, Lu Yile immediately moved up beside Zhou Heng and pointed at one of the students.

“See that guy wearing gold-rimmed glasses? The one who looks so respectable? That’s Chu Ji.”

Zhou Heng followed Lu Yile’s finger.

Surprisingly, Chu Ji looked like a rather refined and mild-mannered person, with an unmistakable scholarly air. If Zhou Heng hadn’t been sure that Chu Ji was no ordinary person—and the mastermind behind the attempt on his life—he’d have taken him for some bookish student from another class if they’d passed each other on the street.

Zhou Heng said in disbelief,

“Chu Ji doesn’t look like a delinquent at all.”

Lu Yile snorted, sounding smug.

“Zhou Heng, what the hell do you know? Chu Ji’s a bona fide top student. He ranked third in the entrance exam for this year’s Grade 10 students. According to his homeroom teacher, he’s aiming for universities on the level of Peking or Tsinghua. If his grades are good enough, he might even go to world-famous schools like Oxford or Yale.”

Zhang Xuan slapped a thigh.

“So he’s a total brainiac?”

Lu Yile said scornfully,

“Drop the ‘so’ and the question mark. Chu Ji is a brainiac—and one of the top students in our school.”

As he spoke, Lu Yile nudged Zhou Heng with his elbow.

“Don’t be Envy. It’s a good thing Chu Ji’s a brainiac. The more he’s read, the more likely he is to reason things out—and the easier he’ll be to intimidate. You get me? Bookworms are easier to scare than delinquents.”

Zhou Heng gave a quiet hum.

By then, the students on the track had finished two laps. The PE teacher at the front called out, “Free time!” and the students from all three classes scattered in a rush, each heading off to play whatever sport they liked.

As for Chu Ji, who had remained right in the center of Zhou Heng’s view, he lay on the grass, his face bright red and his breathing ragged. His chest rose and fell, making his poor stamina painfully obvious.

Zhou Heng couldn’t help staring.

Chu Ji really was a textbook bookworm. The scholarly air was one thing, but he couldn’t lift a thing, and he couldn’t run either. After only eight hundred meters, he looked like he was about to die.

Still, that was for the best. Zhou Heng could only hope Chu Ji was a weakling.

Zhou Heng let out a long breath and silently rose from the shade beneath the bleachers.

Life or death—it all came down to this.

Zhou Heng’s expression was grave.

“Lu Yile, Zhang Xuan, if I manage to deal with Chu Ji this time, dinner’s on me. I’ll take you both to an all-you-can-eat place tonight.”

His two best friends didn’t say it, but why did that sound so much like a death flag?

Zhou Heng walked toward Chu Ji, who was lying on the ground spread-eagled.

This was the first time Zhou Heng had ever threatened anyone.

And the first time he’d approached someone with a small knife tucked inside his jacket.

Most of the time, Zhou Heng preferred to talk things out with his fists.

But this time was different.

The blade gleaming silver was clearly more threatening than a pair of bare fists.

Zhou Heng’s eyes passed over Chu Ji’s pale, smooth cheek.

For a guy, Chu Ji was far too slender, and his skin was so pale it looked unhealthy. Zhou Heng could easily imagine that this young master, one of the richest in the whole city, had been pampered all his life and spent most of his time indoors, away from the sun.

A guy like that might be smart, well-mannered, well-read, and have high standards—but he definitely wouldn’t have much tolerance for violence.

Maybe Zhou Heng only had to say a few threatening words to make this sheltered young master’s heart start pounding. And if he took out his butterfly knife and waved it around, the guy might even piss himself.

Zhou Heng drew closer. Perhaps he sensed Zhou Heng watching him: Chu Ji’s chest was still heaving when he shuddered, then struggled to sit up. After catching his breath a few times, he adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses and looked at Zhou Heng as he approached.

A flicker of surprise crossed Chu Ji’s face.

Then his brows furrowed as he fell into thought.

It looked like he was trying to figure out whether he’d seen the person approaching him somewhere before.

Zhou Heng couldn’t help getting a little annoyed. Chu Ji had actually sent people after him, and he didn’t even remember what Zhou Heng looked like.

If you’re going to bully someone, could you at least make the effort to know who you’re picking on?