Chapter 11
Chapter 11: Getting Beaten Felt Amazing—She Was So Alpha, So Wild, So Heart-Stopping
The girls stared after Jiang Tea Tea as if she’d slapped them from ten meters away. Rage hit them all at once, and they hurried to follow, still shouting threats like they couldn’t stop themselves.
“Jiang Tea Tea, you trash! Even if you kneel and beg later, we won’t let you off!”
“Ling’er’s wrist got broken! Don’t think you can act innocent and we’ll spare you. Trash is trash—trash will never climb over us ability users!”
Jiang Tea Tea didn’t even bother to turn around.
Rabid dogs barked. Let them bark.
Hands in her pockets, she walked with a swagger that said she didn’t give a damn what anyone thought, leading them straight into an empty bathroom.
Bang.
The door slammed shut.
The girls immediately began pulling weapons out of their storage buttons—sticks, wet towels, whips, anything that could hurt without leaving obvious marks. They advanced with grins that tried hard to look cruel.
“Jiang Tea Tea,” one of them said, “it hasn’t even been a week since you knelt here and begged us. Now you’re back asking for a beating—don’t blame us for being rough.”
Another lifted a damp towel, eyes gleaming. “Little stick on your body, wet towel on your legs, whip on your back… and when we’re done, we’ll use a portable healing device to patch you up. You won’t have a bruise. You won’t even be able to complain.”
Her voice dropped, satisfied. “Scared?”
Inside Jiang Tea Tea, the fake heiress’s lingering consciousness surged—fear, terror, resentment, fury, the hoarse scream of someone who’d endured too much for too long.
It hit Jiang Tea Tea all at once. She shuddered, as if something cold had crawled over her spine.
No.
She wasn’t letting that filth remain. Not for another second.
Jiang Tea Tea moved—fast, ruthless, precise.
The girls—C-rank, D-rank, E-rank, F-rank—might as well have been children in front of her.
Less than three minutes later, all of them were down, sprawled across the tiles, staring up at her in shock as if she were some mutated beast.
Jiang Tea Tea grabbed the nearest girl by the hair and yanked her head up. “Villains die because they talk too damn much. If you’re going to fight, fight. Where do you people get all this pointless chatter?”
The girl’s breath hitched. Her heart thudded so hard her chest visibly rose and fell. She tried to speak. “Jiang Tea Tea, you—”
“You what?” Jiang Tea Tea slapped her face, the sound sharp and ugly in the small room.
“Lin Feng Feng,” Jiang Tea Tea said, almost conversational. “C-rank wind ability. Your power is good for one thing: fanning people in summer.”
She leaned closer, gaze flat and contemptuous. “Besides bullying weak people with no abilities, you’re useless.”
Lin Feng Feng’s eyes widened.
“Go on,” Jiang Tea Tea said. “Trash. Scoop toilet water and drink it.”
Lin Feng Feng exploded. “Pah! You trash—don’t act like you’re somebody just because you got a sneak hit—”
Jiang Tea Tea didn’t let her finish.
She seized Lin Feng Feng’s hair and tossed her into a stall like it took no effort at all.
Clang.
Lin Feng Feng went in headfirst, body bent at the waist, face planted squarely in the toilet.
The others froze, then scrambled backward on their hands and heels, terror-struck into silence.
Jiang Tea Tea shook her hand as if flicking off dirt. Then she looked down at them with mocking politeness.
“Everyone,” she said, “since I enrolled, you’ve been so generous—once a week, like clockwork, you drag me into a bathroom to ‘teach’ me a lesson. Truly. I’m deeply grateful.”
She tilted her head. “So now what? Do you want to end up like Lin Feng Feng—do you want me to send you to lick the toilet? Or will you go on your own?”
Lin Feng Feng was still stuck, legs flailing, palms braced on the rim, unable to pull herself free.
The others went pale.
“We—we’ll go ourselves,” one blurted. “No need for you to send us.”
“Yeah,” another rushed to agree, voice shaking. “We’ll… scoop toilet water. Wash our faces. Drink it. We’ll do it ourselves.”
The moment those words left their mouths, the fake heiress’s lingering consciousness inside Jiang Tea Tea practically purred—delighted, satisfied, vindicated.
Good. Let it get closure. Then get out.
Jiang Tea Tea stepped aside and made a graceful, infuriating little gesture with her hand. “Please.”
They looked at each other, gritted their teeth, and rushed into stalls. The boomerang came back exactly as it should.
It didn’t make them feel guilty. It didn’t make them repent. It only humiliated them so deeply their eyes burned, and inside they swore—with vicious certainty—that Jiang Tea Tea would pay.
Jiang Tea Tea pulled up her lightbrain and took photos—clean, sharp, merciless. Every angle. No blind spots. Then she walked out like she owned the world.
—
When Jiang Tea Tea returned to the classroom ten minutes later, she looked the same as always: uniform neat, hands in her pockets, not a trace of panic or shame.
Lu Ling Er had already used a portable healing device to repair her broken wrist. She’d been waiting, practically salivating, for Jiang Tea Tea to come back in tears.
Instead, Jiang Tea Tea strolled in like she’d gone for a pleasant walk.
Lu Ling Er rubbed her eyes hard. Once. Twice. Still real.
Jiang Tea Tea stopped beside her desk.
For some reason, Lu Ling Er felt an invisible pressure—power, confidence, something that made her own ability stir uneasily under her skin. Her voice came out tight. “W-what are you doing?”
Jiang Tea Tea leaned forward, bracing one hand on the desk. She came close enough that Lu Ling Er could see the curve of her lashes.
“You’re pretty,” Jiang Tea Tea said softly. “And your family isn’t short on money. So why don’t you have a brain?”
Lu Ling Er stiffened.
“Jiang Yi Zhu tells you to mess with me, and you do it,” Jiang Tea Tea continued, calm and sharp. “Do you have no opinions of your own? Did she save your life or something?”
“Of course not—”
“Shh.” Jiang Tea Tea pressed a finger to Lu Ling Er’s lips, cutting her off. “Whether she did or not, you know. No need to explain to me.”
She withdrew her hand and straightened. “I’m just telling you this: stay away from me. If you insist on provoking me, then every time you do, something will break.”
Her smile was gentle. Her eyes were not. “Hands. Legs. Over and over. And you know… even the best healing device can’t make things perfect once you’ve broken them too many times.”
Lu Ling Er’s pupils contracted. A chill raced through her.
And then—because her brain was apparently broken—her heart started hammering anyway.
Jiang Tea Tea returned to her seat and took out her textbook.
The boy in the seat in front of her turned around and gave her a thumbs-up, eyes wide with awe. “Jiang Tea Tea, you’re amazing. From now on I’m with you. I’ll call you big sis.”
Jiang Tea Tea squinted at him. “Huang Big Dog?”
He was the only one in Class 6 who’d been quietly kind to the fake heiress—never joining in the bullying. Like her, he was a powerless one.
A canine beastfolk.
Huang Big Dog.
His cheeks puffed up. “My name is Huang Da Zhuang! Not Huang Big Dog. Don’t give me random nicknames.”
Jiang Tea Tea bared her teeth in a grin and patted his head. “Huang Big Dog, Huang Da Zhuang—same thing. Don’t be mad. Later, big sis will pet you. I’ll make you roll over and feel good.”
Back in the demon clan, she’d raised a dog too. Pity it never grew spirit intelligence—she’d ended up boiling it.
But this big yellow dog in front of her didn’t feel malicious. Jiang Tea Tea couldn’t help softening a little.
Huang Da Zhuang’s ears practically twitched. He looked one breath away from shifting into beast form. Whatever she was giving off—some strange affinity—made him want to cling, hug, and rub against her without thinking.
—
At the Capital Planet Military Headquarters, Chong Ming sat behind an enormous desk. He’d already read every file and watched every clip of surveillance footage.
Now his hand rested on Jiang Tea Tea’s dossier, fingers tapping lightly over the photo.
His golden eyes lifted—cold, sharp, unreadable—as he looked at Adjutant Ai.
“Adjutant Ai,” he said, voice low and dangerous, “since when did the Military Department’s procurement officer position become something that can be bought like merchandise? Highest bidder wins? Whoever gives the most gifts wins?”
Adjutant Ai’s scalp tingled. He hadn’t expected a simple guest list check from the First Hotel to dredge up a case like this—an orgy scandal tied to a procurement position.
He stood straighter, voice tight. “Reporting to Your Highness, Zhou Jian is not a procurement officer in the Military Department’s energy stone division. His uncle is only a minor procurement officer attached to a regiment under the Fifth Star’s 59th Division.”
“Zhou Jian used his uncle’s name to scam people on the Capital Planet,” Adjutant Ai continued. “The Jiang family believed him. They also happened to have an adopted daughter who was switched at birth—Jiang Tea Tea—who hadn’t awakened any abilities. They worked together with Jiang Tea Tea’s fiancé to send her over.”
“Their goals were threefold,” Adjutant Ai said. “First, to curry favor with Zhou Jian. Second, to push Jiang Tea Tea’s fiancé to break off the engagement and openly get together with their biological daughter. Third…”
His jaw tightened. “Third, to get rid of Jiang Tea Tea completely—reduce her to a plaything they could give away whenever they liked.”
He took a breath and added, “Information from the Police Bureau indicates that last night’s anonymous report call was most likely made by the Jiang family’s adopted daughter, Jiang Tea Tea.”
“The case has been transferred to your side. The Police Bureau hasn’t taken Jiang Tea Tea’s statement yet. They’re waiting for Your Highness’s instructions.”
Chong Ming’s gaze didn’t waver. “Tell the Police Bureau and the Ministry of Justice to investigate Zhou Jian and his uncle, as well as the Jiang family and the Chu family.”
His finger tapped once on the dossier photo—final as a verdict.
“If the Jiang family and Chu family can’t be pinned with anything major,” he said coldly, “then the Ministry of Justice will prosecute them anyway. Illegal harm against a powerless pure human.”