Beyond the Rift (Campus 1V1) - 2.

2.

 

Ling Jia’s mother always told her to love herself.

 

People live in this world with a straight spine. So no matter the situation, no one can gossip about them.

 

Simply put, a person lives for their face. And losing face is no different from dying.

 

Ling Jia has a different opinion.

 

She doesn’t think dignity or face is that important.

 

Often, only shameless people win in the end.

 

The part under Zong Du’s school pants remains calm. Even as his hand kneads her br3ast, it fails to excite him.

 

Ling Jia thinks for only two seconds before kneeling on both knees. Her hands are resting on his thighs.

 

“I don’t really understand…” 

 

How to seduce someone, how to make him excited—she doesn’t know.

 

She can only follow her instincts. Fortunately, when she moves closer, he doesn’t resist. He just lowers his eyes to look at her slender waist.

 

Qianchuan’s female school uniform is a pleated skirt year-round.

 

Most girls at school love beauty. They shorten their skirts above the knee.

 

Her skirt covers her knees. It hides her movements underneath until she pulls his hand toward her skirt’s hem. Her fingers move cautiously. Only her fingertips lightly tug the back of his hand. They’re trembling. The more they tremble, the more sensitive the touched area becomes.

 

Ling Jia doesn’t look at his s3x but at his eyes.

 

She controls her breathing. She’s afraid of being heard by those outside.

 

Lowering her voice, she asks him, 

 

“If I… touch it, will you feel something?”

 

He smiles, 

 

“Try it.”

 

The room’s air conditioning is set low. His cool fingers press against her warm thigh. They’re guided gently by her hand, always passive. As if merely following her lead.

 

His eyes are too calm. Ling Jia endures the itch. She asks, 

 

“Is… is it okay?”

 

Zong Du seems to think. His fingers pause at the edge of her underwear. Then they dip in. They lightly brush her.

 

Ling Jia nearly collapses. She falls into his arms.

 

Luckily, he catches her arm in time.

 

Serious, as if conducting research, he asks in the same soft voice, 

 

“Can you handle it?”

 

Ling Jia’s mind blanks for a moment.

 

She feels like a hamster secretly escaping a lab. She’s paired with a dangerous partner who knows nothing but patiently cooperates.

 

The people outside haven’t left; they gather outside. They’re quietly discussing the foolish question of whether Zong Du is there.

 

Until someone asks, 

 

“Xue, why don’t you call him?”

 

In the silent seconds, Ling Jia nods, 

 

“It’s okay. Can I see it? I’m not sure…”

 

She looks down awkwardly. Her gaze briefly lands on his school pants before quickly moving away.

 

Sweat beads on her neck. Her long hair’s sticking to it.

 

Her face flushes. But her eyes shine brightly as she looks at him. She sincerely asks, 

 

“I’m not sure if you’re feeling anything.”

 

The black king snake, Raven, climbs onto the sofa. It’s watching its master feign innocence.

 

In an unprecedentedly gentle tone, he asks her, 

 

“Are you sure just looking will tell you?”

 

The girl kneeling before him looks confused, 

 

“Then I—”

 

He teaches her, 

 

“Touch.”

 

Ling Jia’s father, Ling Dachang, usually wears only underwear at home.

 

But the thing in his underwear is about the average size for H-country men.

 

—It’s hard to notice anything unless you look closely.

 

The year she graduated junior high, her mother worked for the Yu family. In Yu Yuan’s home theater, she sat on a sofa with him. They watched a pornographic film.

 

It was a film from a neighboring country. Considering it was her first time, Yu Yuan chose a female-oriented one.

 

When the boy in a white shirt slipped under the girl’s skirt, Ling Jia felt confused.

 

Yu Yuan cautiously watched her expression, pointed at her skirt, and asked, 

 

“Want me to help you?”

 

She put down her cola and shook her head, 

 

“No.”

 

But in the film, when the boy lifted the girl’s skirt and underwear, parted her lower body, and licked noisily, his erection peeked out of his underwear. It revealed a round, rather unattractive cylindrical head.

 

Yu Yuan told her it was called a glans.

 

An ugly name.

 

Disgusting actions.

 

The simple, repetitive thrusting didn’t spark any interest in Ling Jia.

 

Instead, Yu Yuan awkwardly grabbed a pillow to cover his crotch.

 

They’d known each other since childhood. They were separated by a street—rich district and poor district.

 

But that didn’t stop Yu Yuan from becoming her secret partner.

 

She allowed him to know parts of her true self. So she lifted his pillow, looked at his erect part, and spread her thumb and index finger.

 

She estimated the size of Yu Yuan’s full erection in his pants.

 

She measures with her hand.

 

From her middle finger to her wrist crease, it matches Zong Du’s slight erection.

 

She compares in her mind. She pauses the hand guiding his.

 

His fingers take over. They slip into her underwear. They brush her entrance and draw out a bit of wetness.

 

He pulls his hand out. He looks at the glistening on his fingertips.

 

He asks her, 

 

“What do you call this?”

 

“Vaginal… fluid?” 

 

She answers, uncertain.

 

But she notices, after her answer, he grows more excited.

 

The part under her hand hardens slightly.

 

Confused, she tilts her head. She looks at his face.

 

Zong Du focuses on the liquid on his fingertips.

 

Transparent, sticky.

 

He leans closer, smells it—it’s her scent, no special fragrance. Like summer air dampened by a shower and dried.

 

For the first time in his life, Zong Du brings it to his lips and licks it.

 

“…?”

 

Even with all her preparation.

 

Even knowing these rich people have more or less twisted minds.

 

This scene leaves Ling Jia’s mind blank.

 

She can’t tell if it’s confusion or shock.

 

After doing it, Zong Du’s beautiful face pauses in thought.

 

Then he looks up. He smiles at her like an angel from a magazine.

 

Before she reacts, he places his hand over hers. He guides it to press against his s3x.

 

He sees her name tag, “Ling Jia.”

 

Ling Jia’s lips feel dry. But she nods instinctively, “Yes.”

 

He pulls her hand to his lips. He uses her thumb to wipe her own fluid from his mouth.

 

After this, he releases her hand.

 

Like a beast finally sated, he ignores his erect s3x.

 

Looking at the closed door, he plays along with her game. He whispers, 

 

“Now, you can tell me what just happened.”

 

–

 

Park Jun Seok just vented his anger on the school nurse in the infirmary.

 

Looking in the mirror, he thinks the bandage on his head makes him look like an idiot.

 

Ling Jia! That damned poor student.

 

He swears to make her pay.

 

The new intern nurse is holding medicine from the storage. He sees his teacher groaning on the floor. He’s clutching his knees. Like a frozen statue, he stands at the door. He doesn’t dare to breathe.

 

Park Jun Seok glances at him and suddenly laughs, 

 

“Scared of me?”

 

The intern nurse stiffens. He then shakes his head, 

 

“No, not at all.”

 

Park Jun Seok looks at the man on the floor, shrugs carelessly, and says gently, 

 

“Good answer. Remember to say that next time.”

 

He picks up a fire extinguisher from the infirmary, tests its weight in his hand, and walks satisfied toward the elevator.

 

The intern nurse hurries to help his teacher. New to Qianchuan, he’s unaware of its rules. He foolishly asks, 

 

“Should we call the police?”

 

The senior nurse is in pain. He asks, 

 

“Do you know who that student was?”

 

The intern shakes his head, 

 

“I don’t know. Is he… someone special?”

 

“No, just an ordinary rich kid here. But the police you’d call answer to his friends.”

 

“His… friends?”

 

Qianchuan sits in the heart of H-country’s capital, Li City.

 

The quadrennial election happens at Qianchuan’s Congressional Plaza. It’s just a half-hour drive from Qianchuan High School.

 

But Yan Xue, Park Jun-seok’s friend in the nurse’s words, doesn’t deal with government officials so easily.

 

She never dares to call the person who opens the door.

 

Her chattering friends are full of suggestions. She fell silent.

 

Zong Du looks like he just woke up, with Ling Jia standing behind him.

 

Raven slithers onto Zong Du’s wrist. Its snake eyes are fixed on Yan Xue.

 

Despite seeing it countless times, Yan Xue still fears Zong Du’s pet.

 

Terrified of snakes, she still musters courage to get along with Raven.

 

But Raven bit her. It left a scar at the base of her thumb.

 

Zong Du’s mother comforted her. She called a family doctor to treat her. But she never suggested punishing Raven by caging it.

 

After Zong Du was named the heir, no one in the Zong family dared control him.

 

His black dragon monitor lizard expands its territory daily.

 

Even his hundred-yuan fire rose spider has its own man-made rainforest at the Zong estate.

 

Not to mention the black king snake he always keeps close.

 

But now, her attention isn’t on Raven.

 

She looks at Ling Jia behind Zong Du.

 

Her hands are clasped behind her back. They grip tightly. Her thumb is digging into her palm.

 

Yet her smile remains sweet. Her gaze briefly touches Ling Jia before turning to Zong Du.

 

As if Ling Jia doesn’t exist, she asks, 

 

“Ah Du, weren’t you playing basketball today? Why are you in the lounge?”

 

“Where’s your idiot friend?” 

 

Zong Du asks.

 

Yan Xue’s usually good at playing dumb. But she doesn’t dare now. She squints, thinks, and asks, 

 

“You mean Park Jun Seok?”

 

Zong Du doesn’t answer.

 

Yan Xue turns. She looks at a boy with dyed blonde hair.

 

He fumbles. He nearly drops his phone. He frantically texts Park Jun Seok before saying, 

 

“He’s coming.”

 

Ling Jia keeps her head down. She’s playing the role of a confused, helpless girl.

 

Until something cold wraps around her calf. She looks down and sees a beautiful black snake.

 

Its body is pitch black. It shimmers brilliantly in the sunlight.

 

Zong Du’s snake climbs her leg.

 

Seeing this, Yan Xue nearly loses her composure.

 

Zong Du also glances at Raven’s movement. He watches until it reaches her knee.

 

He warns, 

 

“Your skirt.”

 

Ling Jia doesn’t hold her skirt but extends her hand to Raven.

 

Raven lifts its head, looks at her wrist, and wraps around it without hesitation.

 

It leaves too much to the imagination.

 

What happened in the lounge?

 

Why is Raven, who only clings to Zong Du, so close to Ling Jia?

 

Why does Zong Du treat Ling Jia this way?

 

Every answer makes Yan Xue uneasy.

 

Her initial tolerance of Ling Jia stemmed from her cousin Yi Chuan’s interest in her.

 

But now, she realizes her kindness and patience were a mistake.

 

Like her mother, Ling Jia is a fox who seizes every chance to seduce men.

 

While her lackeys subtly exchange looks, Park Jun-seok arrives. He’s oblivious. He’s holding a fire extinguisher.

 

He chews mint candy from who-knows-where.

 

His dangerous aura vanishes upon seeing Zong Du.

 

Confused, he doesn’t understand the situation.

 

Until Zong Du asks, 

 

“How’d you get hurt?”

 

He swallows. His hand points at Ling Jia but swerving toward the stairs upon seeing the black snake on her wrist.

 

“I-I fell down the stairs and got hurt.”

 

“Really?” 

 

Zong Du steps toward him. He stops in front of him.

 

The silver buttons on his white shirt reflect glaring light.

 

Park Jun-seok clutches the fire extinguisher like a comedic prop. He’s staring at his shoes. He doesn’t dare to look away.

 

“Too careless. Causing trouble for the nurse.”

 

“But I’m more curious—” 

 

He turns, looking at the high steps. His lips curve slightly as he asks, 

 

“What angle gets you that kind of injury?”

 

“I—” 

 

Park Jun Seok starts, then stops.

 

He looks pleadingly at Yan Xue.

 

Yan Xue leans on the railing. She’s idly playing with her nails.

 

His jaw clenches. His head trembles uncontrollably.

 

Zong Du’s smile fades.

 

His height lets him loom over Park Jun Seok.

 

Ling Jia’s fingers gently stroke the black snake on her wrist.

 

Raven lifts its head to nuzzle her fingers.

 

Her attention isn’t fully on the snake.

 

She counts silently in her mind.

 

1, 2, 3.

 

A bang.

 

The crowd, once arrogant in the classroom, lowers their heads.

 

The light makes her squint as she looks at Zong Du. He’s still standing at the stairwell.

 

He adjusts his rolled-up sleeves.

 

Sensing her gaze, he smiles at her.

 

“Go check.

 

—If his wound is symmetrical.”