Seeing the indifferent Yu Jing and the other teacher who clearly wanted to say something but chose not to, the fifth-years knew the decision was final.
“Let’s see how well you perform the day after tomorrow, then!”
Two third-years and one fourth-year—if they couldn’t beat the Clown Gang, let’s see how she cleans up the mess.
With that mindset, the fifth-year students left, furious but not entirely unwilling. They were waiting to watch the show in two days.
The tall male teacher muttered some polite farewells before following them out. He didn’t have much of a say here, and wasn’t familiar with the three girls. Sticking around would only make things more awkward.
After sending off her colleague, Yu Jing returned to the hall. Looking at the thunder-girl with arms crossed, she sighed helplessly. “Why did you have to clash with them?”
“Hey, that wasn’t my fault. They came looking for trouble. Disrespecting me left and right—what was I supposed to do?” Xu Chuyao shrugged her small shoulders. “I figured they clearly didn’t understand the situation, so I gave them a taste.”
From the moment they swarmed her, Chuyao had wanted to laugh. Seriously, they didn’t even know who actually called the shots in the Special Squad.
Yu Jing could guess what the older students were thinking—and understood why Xu Chuyao responded the way she did.
“But… are the three of you really enough?”
“No problem.” Xu Chuyao patted her chest, then elbowed the girl beside her. “Right, Shen Ning?”
“I don’t know,” Shen Ning replied expressionlessly.
She was still stuck wondering—why were those four so full of themselves? They weren’t even that strong.
Only Yu Yuwei stood quietly to the side, eyes full of curiosity. Her teacher had told her Xu Chuyao had authority in the squad, but not this much.
“Don’t be nervous,” Xu Chuyao comforted her. “The three of us are more than enough. Just follow my lead and do your best.”
She thought Yu Yuwei was nervous about the upcoming mission.
“O… okay.”
Yu Yuwei wasn’t sure if she had just hitched a ride on a rising dragon—or boarded a very unstable pirate ship.
Yu Jing dismissed them, telling them to gather at the school gates early the day after tomorrow. Today’s matters were done—for now. Of course, they all knew this was far from over. Everyone was waiting for the outcome. If they failed the mission, no one knew what would happen to the squad’s structure—but Xu Chuyao would definitely lose face.
But if she pulled it off, then Chuyao’s momentum would become unstoppable.
When they’d arrived, the afternoon sun was high. As they left, the setting sun cast golden rays across the hills. Yu Yuwei parted ways and returned to her own dorm area, while Xu Chuyao and Shen Ning went back to their rooms.
“Shen Ning’s the best. Doesn’t ask questions—just trusts my judgment 100%.”
Watching the white-haired girl walk away, Xu Chuyao couldn’t help but sigh in admiration.
Late autumn—or early winter—meant night fell quickly. It wasn’t even 7 PM, and the dorms were already buzzing with roommate reunions.
Perhaps due to giving it her all during gym class earlier, Mi Xiaolu looked a little tired and had already crawled into bed under her blanket. Even so, she was still curious about her roommate’s day. A story before bed sounded perfect.
Xu Chuyao recounted her afternoon with flair: how a pretty and charming girl in a team full of suspicion and exclusion ultimately reversed the situation with her own efforts.
“Will it be a complete turnaround? All shall be revealed in our mission the day after tomorrow! So, how do you feel?”
Mi Xiaolu yawned. “Fifth-years bad. Fourth-year good.”
So concise and efficient.
That yawn seemed to refresh her a bit. Mi Xiaolu mentally reviewed the story and raised a question: “Will they really just accept your arrangement? I mean, excluding all the strongest people and only sending three out?”
“Of course they won’t just accept it. That male teacher will definitely report this to the school leadership. Maybe even directly to Principal Lü.” Xu Chuyao spread her hands. “But it won’t matter. Our homeroom teacher told me—my appointment came from even higher up.”
That meant Minister Long, the one who oversaw the security departments of all major cities—the same figure those fifth-year students dreamed of working under someday. In a way, Chuyao had already achieved that.
“But I still don’t get it,” Mi Xiaolu said. “They let you go with just two others? And they’re using a whole class as bait? Aren’t they worried about another security incident?”
Then, she saw her roommate flash a cryptic smile.
“Xiaolu, Xiaolu… I wasn’t going to tell you this. But since you asked, don’t blame me.”
Xu Chuyao took off her socks, climbed into bed, and propped her pillow up. She sprawled out in a lazy position and asked, “Let me ask you—what do you think of our school?”
Mi Xiaolu blinked. “School? Um… just a school?”
“What if it goes beyond teaching? You know yourself—you haven’t really learned much here.”
Spiritual energy grew alongside physical development. That’s why most students didn’t advance beyond Tier 1 before graduation. Once past that threshold, talent would quickly create gaps. Some stayed stuck at Tier 1 forever—like most of the Clown Gang.
Academic education? Even worse. Most students had pretty weak foundations.
“Well, I… uh…” Mi Xiaolu struggled to answer.
Xu Chuyao went on. “We all know that after the mall incident, the school immediately held a meeting about safety issues. And what was the result? No memorial was held for the five students who died—but Shen Ning got put in solitary for a day.”
“What does that mean?” Mi Xiaolu clutched her blanket tighter.
She had a feeling her roommate was about to drop something seriously unsettling.
“It means Shen Ning’s performance dominated the meeting—and the dead students barely got mentioned,” Xu Chuyao said with another sly smile. “So here’s the real question: when they say they’re concerned about ‘safety,’ do they mean the students who got killed—or the one who’s a natural-born killer?”
Mi Xiaolu was now completely bundled in her blanket, whispering nervously, “What are you trying to say?”
“After the war ended, all sides agreed: you can’t let newly awakened spirit users grow unchecked. They drafted a rough proposal—collect, centralize, train, and educate young spirit wielders. That’s how Spirit-Rising Academy was born. But how to train them—that’s the real challenge.”
Xu Chuyao finally sat upright and began ticking points off on her fingers. “First, to avoid another civil war, we need to teach young spirit wielders about love and peace. Second, in case of rebellion or monster invasions, we also need them to grow into reliable soldiers.”
“So, some see school as a prison or monastery—a place to contain and reform immature, dangerous kids. Others see it as a military camp, meant to forge elite warriors. Normally, both goals coexist. But if a conflict arises—which side wins out? That depends entirely on the decision-makers.”
“And that, Xiaolu, is what I want you to know. That’s the school’s true face.”
Under Mi Xiaolu’s trembling gaze, Xu Chuyao calmly delivered her chilling conclusion:
“There are thousands of students in this school. Of course their lives matter. But if sacrificing a few dozen could help cultivate a genius commander—or a born warrior—well, that’s… negotiable.”
What they didn’t know was: Chuyao might not be a genius—she was just cheating.
As for Shen Ning, she really was a genius—but she was also cheating.
Having unloaded all these jaw-dropping revelations, Xu Chuyao felt great. She flipped off the lights and fell asleep in seconds, sleeping like a baby.
Meanwhile, Mi Xiaolu closed her eyes… opened them. Closed them… opened them. Again and again and again.
“Xu Chuyao, I swear… I’m never letting you tell me bedtime stories again. Wuwuwu…”
Poor Xiaolu….