Chapter 43
Chapter 43: Two Madmen—Both the Buildings and the People Went to No. 7 High School!
The principal of No. 1 High School was only grateful that Zhou He Chen and Sheng Yun Yi hadn’t blamed the ruined painting incident on the school. If word got out, No. 1 High School’s reputation would tank overnight.
Even though the real culprit had been arrested yesterday thanks to the surveillance footage Ye Wan Lan provided, the principal still didn’t want the school to have anything to do with her.
Someone who dropped out, entered the modeling world, and even worked as a stand-in—how could she possibly have any real interest in studying?
He was convinced her counseling visits had an agenda.
“Understood,” the psychology team lead said with a nod. “Ye Wan Lan, correct? Do you need anything else?”
The principal frowned. “Tell Counseling Room 3 to remove the camera at his door. Who allowed him to install surveillance without permission?”
“Room 3?” The team lead paused. “You mean Rong—”
“Have him remove it immediately,” the principal cut in, turning to leave.
The psychology team lead only shook his head and ignored the order.
As long as Rong Yu stayed at No. 1 High School, forget a camera. Even if he wanted to move a bed into the counseling room, they would carry it for him.
The surname Rong carried too much weight.
—
River City No. 7 High School, Senior 2 Class 1.
“Classmates, today we continue reviewing,” the history teacher announced, tapping the blackboard. “Look up at the big screen. Memorize it again and again.”
The teacher spoke with great energy, but the students were half-asleep.
Ye Wan Lan listened with focus, even though Senior 2 content was effortless to her.
History never bored her.
When class ended, a student who had been dead asleep earlier suddenly sprang up, energized as if he’d been recharged.
Su Xue Qing took out the book for the next period, then stole another glance at her desk mate.
Ye Wan Lan turned slightly, brows lifting. “Xue Qing?”
Caught, Su Xue Qing hurriedly looked away. To cover her embarrassment, she asked, “Everyone says history-chemistry-biology is a pit combo. Why did you choose it?”
“Use history as a mirror,” Ye Wan Lan said, resting her chin on her hand. “You can understand rise and fall. Use people as a mirror, and you can understand gains and losses.”
She smiled faintly. “Studying history, drawing lessons, correcting mistakes—that’s how I improve.”
She still didn’t know who, three hundred years ago, had invaded Shen Zhou and destroyed everything she had.
But if, one day, she met them again…
Then she would face them herself and repay the nation’s hatred and her family’s blood debt.
“I didn’t think that deeply,” Su Xue Qing whispered. “I just…”
She didn’t finish.
Silence lingered until the final class ended.
After school, Su Xue Qing remained quiet, packed quickly, and hurried away.
Ye Wan Lan stood as well, slinging her backpack over her shoulder as she left at an unhurried pace.
“Classmate Ye, where do you live?” the vice class monitor asked, stopping her at the door. “I’ll give you a ride. The suburbs are far. You’re a girl—going home alone isn’t safe.”
“Thank you, but no,” Ye Wan Lan said, turning back. “I’m very safe.”
It was other people who weren’t safe.
“Classmate Ye, you just got here, so some things are hard to say.” The vice class monitor scratched his head. “You should stay away from Su Xue Qing. She’s… not normal. Something’s wrong up here.”
He pointed at his head and sighed.
Ye Wan Lan smiled. “How funny. I’m a madwoman too.”
Mad people should be friends with mad people.
The vice class monitor stared at her. “…”
“Still, thank you for the warning. See you tomorrow.”
Ye Wan Lan waved and disappeared down the stairwell.
The vice class monitor blinked and muttered, “What a weird transfer student…”
—
At six o’clock, stars had already crept into the evening sky.
Students chatted excitedly about the day.
“Class 1 got a transfer student this morning. I’m in the class across the hall. You didn’t see it—her looks, her presence, her posture. Absolutely insane.”
“Jealous? Class 1 has her. Yours doesn’t.”
“And her introduction—so memorable. She said her Ye is the Ye from ‘In the deep night, I lie listening to Ting Feng and the rain,’ and her Wan Lan is the Wan Lan from ‘to hold back the collapsing tide.’ Total scholar.”
Under a willow tree, Yan Ting Feng’s ear twitched.
He lifted his head, murmuring, “In the deep night, I lie listening to Ting Feng and the rain…”
His name came from that line.
After waking from three hundred years of slumber, whenever he heard wind and rain in the dead of night, he would dream again and again of returning to the old battlefield—killing enemies with laughter and effortless ease.
Only in dreams did he save Shen Zhou. Only in dreams did he protect billions of lives.
The four princely ranks would not die. The Six Great Sects would not fall. The Ning Dynasty would not be destroyed.
Feng Yuan City would still sing and dance, and the women of the Heavenly Music Workshop would never have to draw swords and step onto the battlefield.
But as dawn broke and the sun rose, he would wake to cold emptiness beside his pillow.
“The Ye from ‘In the deep night, I lie listening to Ting Feng and the rain’…”
Yan Ting Feng smiled suddenly, waves churning in his eyes. His voice was soft, almost tender. “So you thought the same?”
“Young lord! Young lord!”
Bing He and Tie Ma hurried over, only to see Yan Ting Feng gazing into the distance with an odd smile—gentle, lingering, dangerously intimate.
“Young lord,” Bing He asked earnestly, “did something interesting happen?”
He followed Yan Ting Feng’s gaze, saw gardenias blooming bright and full, and immediately brightened. “The flowers are pretty, young lord. Should I buy some to brew tea?”
Tie Ma stared at him. “…”
That is not the reason.
If he stayed near Bing He long enough, he feared his own intelligence wouldn’t survive.
Fine. When it mattered, he could always sell this pig teammate to save himself.
Tie Ma took two steps back, expression blank, and put distance between them.
“Bing He,” Yan Ting Feng said, still smiling.
It was the kind of smile that belonged to a blooming poppy—beautiful, lethal.
Bing He shivered. “Young lord, I’m here!”
“If you like flowers so much, go to Qun Yu Mountain and pick them,” Yan Ting Feng said mildly. “If you don’t pick nine hundred and ninety-nine, don’t come down. Understood?”
Bing He froze. “Huh?”
Yan Ting Feng gave him a light, unreadable glance.
Bing He burst into tears. “I was wrong, young lord! I’ll go right now!”
Tie Ma exhaled in relief.
As long as he wasn’t punished by association, Bing He could pick ten thousand flowers for all he cared. Tie Ma would only say, “Well done,” then take photos and send them to Miss Ye.
Yan Ting Feng’s smile vanished in an instant. His eyes turned cold.
He crushed a gardenia in his palm, then opened his hand. Broken petals drifted down, while the scent clung stubbornly to his skin.
Tie Ma’s scalp tingled. That violent, obsessive edge was back.
Then Yan Ting Feng’s ear moved again.
He turned—and when his gaze caught the girl’s silhouette, his smile returned like spring rain, warm and gentle.
“Miss Ye,” he said softly. “What a coincidence.”
Perfect timing, too. Just enough time to take her home.
From River City No. 7 High School to the Lin Family’s home was about forty minutes by car. The subway was a bit faster.
When Ye Wan Lan arrived, dinner was already ready.
“Wash your hands. Eat,” Lin Huai Jin said, gesturing her over. “How was school today? Did you get along with your classmates?”
“Pretty well,” Ye Wan Lan said. “My desk mate is great. She’s beautiful and smart.”
Lin Huai Jin nodded. “Good. I was worried you’d feel rusty after three years away. You didn’t cause any trouble today, did you?”
Ye Wan Lan paused.
Scaring a physics department head into existential collapse—did that count?
Probably not.
“No,” she said evenly.
Then she added, “But Rong Yu transferred to No. 7 High School too. That surprised me.”
“Your psychological counselor?” Lin Huai Jin looked puzzled. “That’s strange. No. 1 High School must pay him well. Why would he go to No. 7 High School?”
Ye Wan Lan picked up a bite of greens. Yan Ting Feng’s face flickered through her mind.
“Maybe he was forced,” she said, one brow lifting.
“Don’t say that in front of the doctor,” Lin Huai Jin said, rubbing his temple. “Since he’s at No. 7 High School now, keep learning from him. Work on repairing your mind.”
Ye Wan Lan nodded, noncommittal.
She would do her best not to let Rong Yu become like her.
—
The next morning, the psychology team lead at River City No. 1 High School finally sensed something was wrong.
Counseling Room 3 was empty.
No. 1 High School had five psychological counselors. Rong Yu worked on Tuesdays; the rest of his schedule was irregular.
A bad chill crawled up the team lead’s spine. He called immediately. “Mr. Rong, why didn’t you come in today?”
“Huh?” Rong Yu sounded perfectly calm. “I resigned yesterday. Didn’t the principal tell you? I’m at No. 7 High School now.”
The team lead’s vision went black.
“My situation’s complicated,” Rong Yu continued breezily. “I met a patient who’s extremely difficult. I have to cure her, so I followed her to No. 7 High School.”
The team lead’s heart sank.
Why hadn’t the principal told him something this big?
“Mr. Rong… is there any chance you could come back from No. 7 High School?” the team lead asked carefully. “Money isn’t the issue. We can—”
“Hey, do I look like someone who cares about money?” Rong Yu said. “I live for passion.”
Then, cheerfully, “Anyway, I’m going to treat students now. Bye!”
The line went dead.
The team lead went ice-cold.
He stormed into the principal’s office. “Principal, why didn’t you tell me a psychological counselor resigned?”
“You mean the one from Room 3?” the principal asked flatly. “Yes, he resigned. By phone. Someone quits, we hire someone new. What is there to say?”
“He went to No. 7 High School!” the team lead snapped.
“No. 7 High School?” The principal frowned. “Their college placement rate drops every year. Anyone willing to go there isn’t much of a long-term talent.”
The team lead tried to calm himself. He failed.
He took a deep breath. “Principal, do you know his surname?”
“What surname?”
“Rong.”
The principal blinked, still unimpressed. “So what if his surname is Rong?”
The team lead finally roared, the words forced out through clenched teeth. “Rong Jing Qiu’s surname is also Rong!”