Chapter 46
Chapter 46: Ye Wan Lan—Which Hand Touched It?
Four and a half hours later, at 6:50 a.m., students began arriving at school.
Senior 2 Class 1 was in chaos. A crowd had formed around Ye Wan Lan’s seat.
“Before the new classmate gets here, hurry and clean it up! Who did this? I was the last one to leave yesterday, and it wasn’t like this.”
“Even if we clean it, we can’t hide it. The books are ruined. The library isn’t open yet—we can’t get replacements.”
“Who did it? Who did this?”
The vice class monitor shouted until his throat went hoarse. “If you don’t like the new classmate, confront her face-to-face! What kind of coward pulls this behind someone’s back?”
“I bet it wasn’t anyone in our class,” someone insisted. “We’re all good people. The new classmate is so nice—we’d protect her, not hurt her.”
“The lock was picked. Could it be an outsider?”
They talked over one another, but hands kept moving—clearing trash, gathering torn pages, wiping down the desk.
The vice class monitor sent two girls to watch the hallway while he and a few class officers collected what little evidence they could.
At 7:05 a.m., Ye Wan Lan reached the stairs.
The two girls spotted her and rushed up, flanking her on both sides.
“Wan Lan, wait a moment before you go in.”
“Yeah, Wan Lan. Someone’s causing trouble. The vice class monitor is trying to keep things under control.”
Ye Wan Lan glanced at them once and smiled faintly. “I know. Something happened.”
At this age, people wore their thoughts on their faces.
The two girls froze—and in that heartbeat, Ye Wan Lan had already walked past them and into the classroom.
The chatter died.
“N-new classmate… you’re here.”
Where were the girls who were supposed to stop her?
Ye Wan Lan’s gaze swept down.
Shredded books and torn workbooks still littered the floor. It was obvious what had happened to her desk.
Then she noticed something else.
Her cup wasn’t there.
She stepped through the crowd and circled the classroom, calm as still water. At the corner behind the door, she found it—Yan Ting Feng’s gift, tossed like trash.
It was coated in gray dust, the original color nearly gone.
She picked it up without a word, borrowed a wet wipe, and scrubbed at the grime and scratches.
It didn’t matter.
It was still filthy.
“I’m going out for a bit,” she said quietly. “If I’m not back before class, please ask the teacher for leave for me.”
Then she walked out with the ruined cup in hand.
Only after she was gone did the vice class monitor snap back. “Why didn’t you stop her? I’m worried she’ll do something!”
The two girls drooped. “We couldn’t. She saw right through us with one sentence. We didn’t even get to start acting…”
—
Ye Wan Lan headed straight for the counseling office.
“Classmate Ye?!” Rong Yu was unlocking the door and nearly jumped out of his skin. “Why are you here so early?”
Was it possible his lecture yesterday had finally sparked her interest?
Ye Wan Lan nodded once. “Where’s your brother?”
“Him? I don’t know—”
“Miss Ye is looking for me?”
A gentle voice drifted from behind them.
Rong Yu went blank for a second.
Where did he even come from?
The man was touched with morning dew, carrying the fresh, clean scent of grass. He wore a long black trench coat that made him look like he’d stepped out of the darkness itself.
Ye Wan Lan lifted the cup slightly. “The cup you gave me… I’m sorry. I left it in the classroom to drink from yesterday and didn’t bring it home. It ended up like this.”
Yan Ting Feng’s gaze lowered to the wreck in her hands. His expression stayed soft. “It’s fine. It’s only a cup. I have more.”
Rong Yu tightened his coat, but it didn’t help. A bone-deep chill still crawled up his spine.
How could someone say, It’s fine, while their killing intent practically spilled out of their pores?
Which blind idiot had managed to offend both of these lunatics?
“When Miss Ye comes at noon, there will be a new cup.” Yan Ting Feng tilted his head. “I’ll have someone find out who did this.”
Rong Yu blurted, “Wait, you’re going to use—”
Yan Ting Feng glanced at him.
Rong Yu swallowed the rest of his sentence.
He still couldn’t believe it. Investigating a school thug and pulling in Bureau 723? What was wrong with these people?
“No need,” Ye Wan Lan said, shaking her head. “I’ll handle it myself. Thank you for the gift. I won’t lose it again.”
Yan Ting Feng paused, then let out a quiet laugh. “No need to thank me. I believe Miss Ye will protect my… gift.”
—
The bell rang.
Ye Wan Lan returned to class as if nothing had happened—calm to the point of unsettling.
At the break, classmates surrounded her again.
“Don’t be mad. Once we find the culprit, we’ll beat him up together!”
But everyone knew it would be nearly impossible without working cameras.
“I’m not angry,” Ye Wan Lan said. “This is too small to reach my limit.”
The vice class monitor stared at her.
If this didn’t reach her limit… what did?
Second period was self-study. Ye Wan Lan didn’t open a textbook. She unlocked her phone.
She typed a string of characters, then connected to a street camera outside the school wall.
A pop-up appeared.
Transfer complete.
“That’s an outside camera?” Su Xue Qing froze, then shook her head. “Right… our classroom faces the street. It might have caught something, but—”
The footage was blurry enough to be useless.
Then two more pop-ups appeared.
Resolution restored.
Noise reduction complete.
The image snapped into sharp 1080p clarity.
Su Xue Qing’s eyes widened. “You… That’s Sheng Song from Class 2!”
“Sheng Song.” Ye Wan Lan looked up. “Who?”
She didn’t recognize the name, which was proof enough he wasn’t worth remembering.
“Wan Lan, you just transferred here, so you don’t know.” Su Xue Qing lowered her voice. “Sheng Song and a few friends form a little clique. They do whatever they want. Even the teachers can’t control them.”
“What else have they done?” Ye Wan Lan asked.
“A lot,” Su Xue Qing said quietly. “Plenty of students have been bullied. But they know how to pick targets—if someone has background, they won’t touch them.”
Ye Wan Lan saved the video. Her face didn’t change. “Okay. I understand.”
“Just… don’t run into him.” Su Xue Qing hesitated, unsettled by that calm. “He’s not as simple as he looks. Last time, a student in Class 9 got pushed into depression and had to take leave because of him.”
Ye Wan Lan hummed, as if she’d taken the warning to heart.
The long-break bell rang. Su Xue Qing looked up to suggest getting some air—only to find Ye Wan Lan gone.
—
Ye Wan Lan had already walked into Senior 2 Class 2.
The room was noisy, but the moment she appeared, a hush rippled through it.
At the back, Sheng Song lounged with his legs crossed, smiling. When he heard the sound, he only glanced over, fearless.
No evidence—what could they do?
Even if there was evidence—what could they do?
He’d bullied plenty of people at No. 7 High School. As long as he didn’t make it too big, who could touch him?
His last name was Sheng.
Even if he was only from a branch of the Sheng Family, he still wasn’t someone ordinary families could fight.
For him, this school was entertainment. A trial run. He could afford to lose and start over.
Those good students couldn’t. They could only swallow it.
“Yo, isn’t this the transfer student from Class 1?” A male student beside Sheng Song whistled. “Why’d you come to our class? See our top-ranked Su God and fall for someone new?”
Most of the students here were from ordinary families. They didn’t have access to the Jiang circle’s drama, and they didn’t have time to care.
But Sheng Song had already spread the rumor yesterday: Ye Wan Lan had stayed by Zhou He Chen’s side as Sheng Yun Yi’s stand-in. The looks aimed at her were strange—curious, sharp, and eager for a show.
Su Xu Bai glanced over once—then looked away, expression indifferent.
He had no interest in a stand-in.
Ye Wan Lan walked forward as if no one were staring, until she stopped in front of Sheng Song.
“Brother Song, big news.” The male student nudged Sheng Song’s elbow, grinning. “The transfer student came looking for you. But your family isn’t exactly easy to get into.”
Sheng Song’s eyes slid over Ye Wan Lan. “Easy? My family keeps plenty of dogs. What’s hard about getting in?”
The male student barked a laugh.
The sound was cut off by a violent crash.
Bang!
Ye Wan Lan lifted her leg and kicked the desk.
Sheng Song hadn’t even had time to react.
The desk toppled. The impact slammed into him, and he went down hard—chair and all—hitting the floor with a heavy thud.
A muffled groan tore from his throat.
The classroom went dead silent.
Ye Wan Lan took one step closer. Her voice was unexpectedly gentle.
“Which hand touched it?”
She tilted her head slightly, smiling. “This one… or this one?”