I Marked My Arch-Nemesis Omega - Chapter 8
Sheng Yu smiled, and Zhang Yunsu knew this person probably hadn’t taken her words to heart.
“There’s really no benefit in opposing Song Qing,” Zhang Yunsu still tried to persuade her.
Sheng Yu grinned. “Who said I’m opposing her? I was just joking, and who knew the student council president would be so petty as to take it seriously?”
After saying this, she sighed, lowered her gaze to the ground, and put on an extremely aggrieved expression.
Zhang Yunsu: “…”
Though she hadn’t interacted much with Sheng Yu over the past few days, Zhang Yunsu could more or less guess what kind of person she was. But looking at Sheng Yu’s expression now, she almost fell for it.
Sheng Yu’s face was just too deceptive.
In the end, Zhang Yunsu gave up on further persuasion. Some things were beyond her ability to advise—Sheng Yu was clearly dead set on provoking Song Qing.
Sheng Yu had initially thought Song Qing was joking. But the next morning, when she deliberately timed her descent from the dormitory to the last minute, Song Qing was actually waiting downstairs.
She could clearly sense that the lively chatter among students passing by Song Qing instantly died down, replaced by silence as they quickened their pace to get away.
Sheng Yu: “…”
“Sorry to keep the student council president waiting,” Sheng Yu walked over, her smile radiant, forming a stark contrast to the others who avoided Song Qing like the plague.
Sheng Yu was holding a carton of milk.
“Had breakfast yet?” she asked Song Qing.
“Yes.”
“Oh.” Sheng Yu nodded. “Good, because I only brought enough for myself.”
“Aren’t you going to walk faster? You’re about to be late. Or is it because student council members don’t get marked for tardiness, so you’re in no hurry?” Sheng Yu asked curiously.
Song Qing knew Sheng Yu was trying to provoke her. She gave her a look, her tone flat. “Exactly. Privilege. Envious?”
Sheng Yu fiddled with the milk carton and took a sip. “Is it too late to join the student council now?”
“The student council only accepts Alphas.”
“What’s the difference between an Alpha and a non-Alpha? Neither can catch me anyway,” Sheng Yu said nonchalantly.
“So you’re admitting it?”
“So you were bluffing yesterday.”
Song Qing didn’t respond.
“As expected of the student council president—lying comes so easily to you.”
Song Qing frowned. “Your hostility toward me is inexplicable.”
“Maybe it’s because I resent the privileged,” Sheng Yu said dismissively.
“You have three minutes left before you’re late. If you are, your Monday self-criticism essay might get another addition,” Song Qing said. “I’d advise you to write it. Though high schools don’t expel students these days, the school does have the right to transfer you elsewhere.”
“Kankado or Chenghu—you can pick.”
Sheng Yu had never heard of either place. She stayed silent, her expression unchanged, yet somehow, Song Qing still saw through her.
“If you’re unfamiliar, you can look them up after your tablet is returned on Friday. Choose a nice place for yourself.” Song Qing checked the time. “Unfortunately, you’re late. Ten thousand words on Monday.”
“Also, illegally hacking the school network—if I catch you red-handed, I can send you to juvenile detention.”
Sheng Yu: “…”
“See you tomorrow.”
Sheng Yu watched Song Qing enter the classroom and couldn’t help but scoff. She bit her tongue, feeling the sharp sting, then walked briskly back to her own classroom.
Her deskmate was already there.
Sheng Yu raised an eyebrow.
“So you caved too,” Fu Lian said with a pained expression.
“She came to my dorm last night and ambushed me downstairs this morning. What was I supposed to do?” Sheng Yu propped her chin on her hand.
Fu Lian gave her a sympathetic look.
“So, are you writing the self-criticism?” Fu Lian asked.
“Ten thousand words? Only an idiot would write that,” Sheng Yu twirled her pen.
“Wasn’t it eight thousand? Why the extra two thousand?” Fu Lian frowned.
“Oh, because I was late this morning,” Sheng Yu glanced at him. “Do you know about Kankado and Chenghu?”
Fu Lian thought for a moment, then furrowed his brows. “No… Why do you ask?”
“Nothing.” Sheng Yu yawned and slumped onto the desk.
Fu Lian pulled out paper and started writing his self-criticism. Sheng Yu watched him.
“If you don’t want to write it, you could pay someone to do it for you. There are people in school who offer that service,” Fu Lian suggested.
“Why waste money? Were you from No. 1 High or No. 13 before?”
“Neither. I transferred this year,” Fu Lian replied.
“Alright.” Sheng Yu nodded, yawned again, and closed her eyes.
Compared to their first tense encounter, the atmosphere between them had improved significantly—mainly because Fu Lian now held a grudging respect for Sheng Yu.
Before coming to No. 13 High, he’d heard about the infamous student council president, rumored to be able to tame even the most unruly students. He hadn’t believed it at first, but now he’d been thoroughly subdued—though he’d rather not dwell on how exactly that had happened.
He was curious how long Sheng Yu would hold out. Or maybe she was just bluffing, and come Monday, she’d pull out a ten-thousand-word self-criticism to shock them all.
Sheng Yu slept through the morning. At noon, Liao Keke came to take her to the cafeteria.
“Spit it out,” Sheng Yu said, noticing how Liao Keke had kept glancing at her on the way, hesitating several times.
“Everyone knows about your clash with Song Qing. There’s a betting pool going around the school.”
“They allow that here?” Sheng Yu raised an eyebrow.
Liao Keke paused for two seconds. “No. 13 High is… special?”
“What’s the bet?”
“Whether you’ll show up with that ten-thousand-word self-criticism on Monday.”
“How juvenile.”
“I think so too. But most people dislike Song Qing, so the majority bet on you. If you don’t do what they expect on Monday…” Liao Keke trailed off, but Sheng Yu understood.
Sheng Yu let out a short laugh and rubbed her thumb.
Pathetic to the core. A betting pool like this… No doubt it was started by those Alpha elites. No wonder Wu Ye and the others hadn’t invited her to lunch today.
“Did they send you to warn me, or did you come on your own?” Sheng Yu asked curiously.
Liao Keke froze, studying Sheng Yu. For a moment, she seemed almost unfamiliar. “I came on my own.”
“Oh.”
Liao Keke followed behind Sheng Yu: “Anyway, I’ll definitely be on your side. Don’t worry, I’m an A-level Alpha—they won’t dare mess with me.”
“But you should still try not to offend them,” Sheng Yu said. “After all, you might end up serving under one of their families in the future.”
Liao Keke frowned. “Then I just won’t join the military.”
“Mandatory service, wake up, sis.”
Liao Keke: “…”
“Ugh,” Liao Keke sighed. “Life is too hard.”
Sheng Yu couldn’t help but laugh. “This is just the beginning.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“That 10,000-word essay is definitely not happening,” Sheng Yu said as the two joined the cafeteria line. “I don’t even do my homework—why would I write her a self-criticism?”
“That’s what I was thinking too…” Liao Keke lowered her voice. “Song Qing might not be likable, but she usually doesn’t do anything too extreme. The real people you shouldn’t cross are the others.”
Sheng Yu stayed silent.
On Friday, Sheng Yu went to the student council office to pick up her neural tablet. Everyone else got theirs from their class monitors—except for troublemakers like her and Fu Lian.
The student council had its own small building, three stories tall with a lovely little garden.
The pickup station was on the first floor. As Sheng Yu took in the building’s decor, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of admiration. After signing her name and collecting two tablets, she glanced at the staff member on duty.
“Is Song Qing here?” Sheng Yu asked with a smile.