Beyond the Rift (Campus 1V1) - 6.

6.

The square name tag inside her creates a foreign sensation. It makes Ling Jia lose focus at times.

The classroom’s air conditioning is set low. It makes her soaked underwear feel even colder.

She completes the test paper much slower than usual. The teacher walks down from the podium. They pass her several times. They finally tap her desk lightly with a finger and ask, 

“Are you facing any difficulties?”

Ling Jia shakes her head gently: 

“No.”

The teacher glances at Yi Chuan. He’s sleeping at the back of the classroom. They consider for a moment, then softly remind her, 

“Student Ling, your grades are excellent. Focus on your studies, get into a good school, and don’t let yourself be distracted.”

When first entering Qianchuan, who didn’t have ambitions to change the school’s culture?

But the longer one stays, the more powerless they feel.

Here, the status of students and teachers is completely reversed. Teachers aren’t revered educators but workers serving these elite heirs. They’re less respected than restaurant servers. At least diners don’t use polite language while throwing books at you, asking if you want to keep your job.

But Qianchuan’s pay is exceptionally high.

High enough to silence conscience and ignore certain misbehaviors.

Ling Jia nods and politely says, 

“Thank you, teacher.”

The grueling class finally ends. As the bell rings, Ling Jia stands to head out.

A mirror smashes beside her. It shatters into pieces on the floor.

The crisp sound wakes several sleeping students.

Their annoyed expressions quickly soften upon seeing the culprit. And they avoid looking further. They’re burying their heads in their arms to pretend to sleep.

Yi Chuan leans against the wall. He asks her, 

“Where are you going?”

“To the bathroom,” 

Ling Jia says.

Yi Chuan kicks the chair in front of him.

A girl with a fishtail braid immediately stands up.

Yi Chuan says, 

“Go with her.”

The girl nods, follows Ling Jia, and walks out with her.

The bathroom door closes. Ling Jia glances at the window.

The girl waiting outside complains to someone, 

“Ling Jia is so annoying. With her around, the whole class can’t have peace.”

Another sighs, 

“Who told Yi Chuan to like her? Just bear with it.”

The sound of the window opening is soft. It’s unnoticed by those outside.

Dense greenery outside perfectly conceals Ling Jia’s figure.

Zong Du opens the window. He watches Ling Jia climb in like a cat. She prepares to jump down but he grabs her arm.

He makes her sit on the windowsill and reaches under her skirt with practiced ease.

His fingers touch the warm, soaked name tag inside.

Instead of pulling it out, he pushes it deeper.

Ling Jia immediately grabs his arm.

Zong Du looks at her lazily. His expression is sleepy.

Ling Jia says softly, 

“I didn’t bring a new pair of underwear. It’s been wet all class—it’s uncomfortable.”

“Then take it off,” 

Zong Du says.

His fingers hook the edge of her underwear. He pulls it down to her knees. The girl in front of him reaches out, wraps her arms around his neck, and buries herself in his chest.

This pauses his actions. Seeming puzzled, he lowers his eyes to her frail back.

“I’ll be seen…” 

Her voice muffles in his chest. She pitifully says, 

“I have PE class today.”

“Begging me?” 

Zong Du asks.

The person in his arms nods: 

“Please.”

He pauses. He’s silent for a few minutes. He then pulls her arms to free her from his embrace.

His expression is cold. But his hand under her skirt stops pulling her underwear down. Instead, he moves to her entrance, removes the name tag, places it in her hand, and says, 

“Put it on me.”

It’s still wet.

Her movements hesitate slightly. Zong Du notices her reluctance and finds it amusing: 

“Think it’s dirty?”

“No,” 

She says, pinning it on him. She then pulls his clothes closer to sniff lightly. She asks, 

“Will others notice?”

“Who’s ‘others’?” 

Zong Du asks.

Ling Jia bites her lower lip. She hesitates before answering, 

“Yan Xue.”

Beating around the bush.

It’s just to test him.

Her obvious intent makes Zong Du find it entertaining.

He rarely indulges anyone. But now he’s unusually patient. He gently strokes her face. His thumb’s rubbing her lips.

“Afraid she’ll target you?”

She lightly bites his fingertip.

“I already have nowhere to live.”

“Besides that?”

Ling Jia thinks for a moment before saying, 

“Yi Chuan is watching me too.”

“He likes you, doesn’t he?” 

Zong Du presses her lower lip. His dark eyes are like an endless abyss. They’re looking at her as he asks, 

“Why not ask him for help?”

Zong Du and Yi Chuan rarely interact at school.

Ask ten people, eight would say they’re not close.

Zong Du’s thoughts now are hard to read.

It’s unclear if he’s genuinely asking or hiding some motive.

Ling Jia seems caught off guard. Her beautiful face shows clear hesitation.

After a moment, she licks his finger pressed against her lips.

Looking into his eyes, she asks, 

“Do I seem that foolish to you?”

Their distance is too close.

Their scents intertwine.

They resemble lovers in a passionate romance.

Yet their gazes toward each other are cold.

Watching each other perform without calling it out.

Zong Du helps her put her underwear back on. His index finger gently strokes her wet entrance.

Ling Jia’s hands move down. They’re lightly hugging his waist.

Her clear eyes gaze at him. They’re shimmering with sincerity.

“You and Yi Chuan aren’t a choice normal people struggle to make, are they?”

The curtains flutter lightly in the breeze.

Raven has been sleeping in the glass tank. It finally wakes. It’s making faint noises.

The sound is drowned out by the rustling of clothes.

Zong Du’s still watching her. He lifts her chin to make her look up at him.

After a moment of eye contact, his fingers brush her damp eyelashes.

“Then I’ll give you a real choice.

Dorm or off-campus?”