The next morning, dawn light streamed through the tall floor-to-ceiling windows of the Magic Academy, spilling across the polished stone path.
A faint Mana Halo and the scent of grass drifted through the air.
Su Yun stepped through the school gate with a composed stride, a far cry from her former hunched shoulders and downcast eyes.
Her back was straight, her brows relaxed, and her clear eyes held the confidence of having broken through to Intermediate, along with the ease of being freed from the Contract’s shackles.
As the first person in the academy’s history to clear the hundredth floor of the Trial Tower, she had long been a celebrity on campus.
As she walked, students stopped to stare, their gazes full of awe and envy.
Many took the initiative to greet her with respectful tones.
“Good morning, Su Yun!”
“Congratulations on clearing the Trial Tower!”
Su Yun nodded politely in return, neither humble nor arrogant.
There was no trace of pride or the former timidity; her calm composure instead made people hold her in greater respect.
She no longer had to constantly watch for Mo Qingqing’s presence or tremble at a single scolding.
This feeling of not having to read anyone’s expression made her whole body feel light and carefree.
According to academy regulations, those who break through to Intermediate Mage could advance to the intermediate mage classes.
The moment Su Yun pushed open the door to her new classroom, her gaze collided with a familiar figure in the corner.
They quickly looked away, a barely perceptible ripple passing through her heart.
She was in Mo Qingqing’s class.
Whether by coincidence or fate, the former master and servant were now classmates.
An awkward silence instantly filled the cramped classroom.
Su Yun walked straight to an empty seat by the window in the upper left corner of the classroom.
She pulled out a chair, sat down, and drew back the curtain a crack, letting the morning light fall on her textbook as she pretended to read attentively.
The two of them were eerily in sync—neither spoke, and they deliberately avoided each other’s gaze.
But the corners of their eyes unconsciously swept toward the other end of the classroom.
Mo Qingqing sat in the lower right corner, her exquisite Black Dress outlining a slender yet upright figure.
Her long black hair was loosely tied up, her profile cold and beautiful.
She was reading a book with downcast eyes, exuding an aura that warned others to keep away, as if nothing around her mattered.
One on the left, one on the right, separated by most of the classroom, as if divided by an invisible boundary—strangers who had never crossed paths.
Not only did they not speak, but their eyes never met even once.
The difficulty of the new class’s curriculum was several levels higher than the lower grade.
Intermediate law pattern precision control, multi-system magic fusion applications, mana core refining techniques, and all sorts of obscure Ancient Runes knowledge.
For Su Yun, who had transferred in midway and missed many foundational lessons, it was indeed a bit tough.
During class, when the Mage professor explained intermediate magic circle deductions, Su Yun occasionally couldn’t follow the logic.
She scribbled in her notebook, frowning from time to time.
But she wasn’t anxious.
When she first enrolled, she didn’t even understand the basic theory of low-grade magic, yet she had managed to catch up through sheer determination.
Now, with 245 Law Patterns as her foundation and the unique Three-realm Architecture in her mental world, her comprehension far exceeded that of ordinary Intermediate Mages.
After class, while others rested and chatted, she would take her textbook to consult the professor or immerse herself in the library to look up materials.
Her notebook was filled with dense annotations.
When she encountered something she didn’t understand, she would proactively ask her classmates, remaining humble and gentle.
She quickly became familiar with many people.
No matter how difficult the coursework was, it couldn’t compare to the matter she was plotting in her mind.
Su Yun’s fingers traced the Jade Slab in her hand, her mind filled with thoughts of Mo Qingqing.
The top priority was to use this one year of freedom to win over that Witch and make her completely dependent on her.
Thinking of Mo Qingqing, Su Yun couldn’t help but feel troubled.
That woman was deep and complex, possessive, with a capricious temperament.
In the past, she had been hot and cold, and Su Yun could never figure out what Mo Qingqing was truly thinking.
She wasn’t sure whether, during those days of living closely together, she had been just an obedient possession in Mo Qingqing’s heart or if she had really left a different kind of mark.
Getting too close rashly certainly wouldn’t work; being too deliberate would arouse disgust, and Mo Qingqing might even see through her goal, which would do more harm than good.
But staying distant forever wasn’t a solution either.
Time waits for no one; the one-year deadline would pass in the blink of an eye.
“Let’s ignore her for a few days and see how she reacts first.”
Su Yun made up her mind, a trace of helplessness flashing in her eyes.
“If she doesn’t react at all, it means I’m not important to her, and I’ll need to think of another plan. But if she shows even a hint of care, then that’s my chance.”
Deep down, she had no confidence, and she couldn’t help but secretly pray that she held even a tiny bit of specialness in Mo Qingqing’s heart.
After all, once the year was up and the Contract reappeared, if she failed to make Mo Qingqing fall for her, that woman’s nature would never tolerate her former slave slipping out of her control.
At that point, forget about equal footing; even keeping a stable life was uncertain.
Having made up her mind, Su Yun began to deliberately distance herself from Mo Qingqing, even with a certain intent of “doing it on purpose.”
In the following days, Su Yun spent every day clinging to Chu Yu’er, Su Miaomiao, and Ning.
In the morning, they went to the cafeteria together for breakfast.
Su Yun would take the milk Chu Yu’er handed her with a smile, listen to Ning animatedly telling funny stories from her family, and chat and laugh with Su Miaomiao.
It was lively and joyful.
During breaks, they huddled together to discuss exercises.
The occasional insights Su Yun offered would always make the others’ eyes light up, and they would praise her clever thinking.
At noon, they would stroll along the tree-lined paths on campus.
Su Yun would pick up fallen petals and study the plant mana contained within them together with Su Miaomiao.
In the evening, they would go to the training room together to practice magic, sparring with each other in a harmonious and cheerful atmosphere.
And the routes of their activities always happened to “coincidentally” pass by Mo Qingqing’s usual spots.
Sometimes it was near the bench where Mo Qingqing read, sometimes by the magic field where she trained, sometimes on the path she had to take to the cafeteria.
Whenever this happened, Su Yun would laugh even more brightly, joking and playing with her friends.
Her voice was at just the right volume to reach Mo Qingqing’s ears.
She deliberately avoided looking at Mo Qingqing, as if the latter were just an insignificant stranger.
She immersed herself wholeheartedly in the company of her friends, a relaxed ease she had never experienced when she was by Mo Qingqing’s side.
As for Mo Qingqing, she maintained her usual indifferent facade on the surface.
She still came and went alone.
During breaks, she would either lean by the window looking into the distance or close her eyes to rest, turning a blind eye to the commotion on Su Yun’s side.
In the cafeteria, she always sat alone in a corner, eating slowly and calmly, her expression tranquil as if the surrounding noise had no effect on her.
In the training room, she focused on cultivating her mana, her techniques still fierce.
But occasionally, at the moment of retracting a move, her gaze would unconsciously drift toward the door, as if waiting for something, then quickly withdraw.
A barely noticeable darkness flickered in her eyes.
No one knew that every time Su Yun’s laughter rang out, Mo Qingqing’s heart would ache as if pierced by tiny needles, a dense, stinging pain.
The emptiness that had lingered in her heart since the Contract vanished had not dissipated; instead, it grew stronger, as if the most important thing in her heart had been taken away, leaving it hollow, making even breathing feel uncomfortable.
She watched Su Yun surrounded by friends, saw her smiling brightly with relaxed brows, saw the little slave who used to timidly follow behind her and cautiously please her now living so brilliantly and freely.
An inexplicable emotion surged within her heart.
There was anger—anger that Su Yun dared to ignore her like this.
There was resentment—resentment that her former possession no longer belonged to her.
And there was even a trace of irritation and jealousy that she herself was unwilling to admit.
Watching Su Yun get close to others made her extremely uncomfortable, and she wished she could rush over and push away the person clinging to Su Yun.
Several times, Chu Yu’er walked past laughing while linking arms with Su Yun, and Su Yun turned her head to speak with her, a bright and beautiful smile on her lips.
Mo Qingqing’s fingers would unconsciously tighten on the pages, her knuckles turning white, leaving deep creases on the paper.
She repeatedly warned herself in her heart:
‘Su Yun is just a former slave. Losing her is no big deal; she’s not worth caring about.’
‘She has countless options. There’s no need to fixate on someone who has already slipped out of control.’
But the more she thought that way, the more she couldn’t ignore Su Yun’s existence.
In the classroom, she would subconsciously pay attention to the figure in the upper left corner—watching Su Yun seriously taking notes, frowning in thought, and her eyes shining when discussing with classmates.
On the way home, she would also slow down, following behind Su Yun and the others, watching that small figure stand out among the crowd.
The turmoil in her heart became clearer.
She couldn’t help but even think:
‘Has Su Yun completely forgotten her?’
‘Will she never come back to her side?’
Once this thought arose, it wrapped around her heart like vines, causing inexplicable panic.
She began to suffer from restless insomnia, lying in bed at night with her mind full of Su Yun’s image.
The way Su Yun used to timidly call her Master, the way she curled up when scared, the way she occasionally gathered courage to get close, and now the composed and dazzling Su Yun—all these images intertwined, unsettling her.
On the surface, she was still that cold, aloof, and lofty Mo Qingqing.
But only she knew that her heart had already become a tangled mess because of that girl’s deliberate distance.
And Su Yun, in reality, was also quietly observing Mo Qingqing’s reactions.
Every time she passed by Mo Qingqing, she would secretly observe from the corner of her eye—seeing Mo Qingqing’s outwardly calm yet slightly tense posture, her clenched fingers, the fleeting darkness in her eyes.
Su Yun began to get a sense of the situation.
It seemed that she did have some weight in Mo Qingqing’s heart.
She suppressed a hint of excitement in her heart and continued to maintain a distant demeanor.
Now was not the time.
She needed to wait a little longer, until Mo Qingqing’s emotions grew stronger, until she could no longer hold back.
That would be the best time for her to make her move.