East, west, south, north.
Each wing of the teaching building was packed with tightly arranged classrooms. I stared at the room number listed on my class schedule, spinning around in circles on the stairs until I was completely disoriented.
It was my very first day of class in university—and I was already lost. Seriously, who else would have this kind of ridiculous experience?
The summer heat didn’t help either. Climbing stairs in this weather was exhausting. At this rate, I genuinely worried I might pass out right here in the academic building.
Fortunately, luck was on my side.
I bumped into a senior from the same department near the staircase. With her detailed directions, I finally found my classroom—a classroom tucked away in the most remote corner on the third floor.
Anyone unfamiliar with the layout of the building would never have found it.
As expected, when I arrived, more than half the seats inside were still empty. At the front of the classroom stood a middle-aged woman, head bowed, fiddling with her teaching materials. The projector screen behind her displayed the title of today’s lesson.
I checked her name on my phone.
Xie Chunhua—Senior Lecturer. She graduated in 2013 and stayed on campus to complete her doctorate.
Now, in 2043, she was still a lecturer, with potential to be promoted to associate professor.
I was born in 2025, which made this timeline feel a bit strange. For someone to work their way up from teaching assistant to lecturer over thirty years and still not be a professor…Well, I wasn’t sure if that was normal or not.
Still, to be in the same role for this long, her teaching skills probably weren’t bad.
“You’re Sì Yixin, right?”
The class assistant approached—a bespectacled girl whose name I vaguely remembered from the class group chat.
She adjusted her glasses and stared straight at me with a probing gaze, the kind of look people give to someone famous. There was curiosity in her eyes, maybe even a bit of suspicion, like she was sizing me up.
“Yes,” I replied blandly, pushing down my discomfort.
She seemed to be choosing her words carefully. “Why didn’t you come to class this morning?”
Well… as someone officially given special privileges by the higher-ups, there was nothing she could do about me.
After all, the class attendance list didn’t even have my name on it.
Even the teacher’s own attendance sheet didn’t include Sì Yixin.
If she hadn’t seen my name in the student roster herself, she might’ve thought her class only had a few people.
And that wasn’t all.
According to the official notice, I was a “special case”—my attendance would be tracked separately by designated personnel, and I’d be evaluated through a specialized system.
As for who this “designated personnel” was, the class assistant had no idea.
She adjusted her glasses again, her tone turning stern as she pressed the issue. “Why didn’t you come to class this morning?”
“A freshman skipping class right after starting university—are you serious?
“If I’m not mistaken, you didn’t attend a single day of military training either, did you?”
Sure, it wasn’t her place to oversee that kind of thing, but she simply couldn’t stand people like me.
In her mind, university was never meant to be some kind of transaction for fame or privilege. And these pampered young ladies—what did they think this sacred place of higher learning was? A playground?
She pushed up her glasses for the third time, her eyes practically boring holes into my well-maintained, slender, flawless fingers.
She sneered inwardly.
Just look at those hands—never done a day of real work. Probably got into Beiqing through some shady connection. These rich girls are all the same. Take away their background, and they’re nothing.
I pressed my lips together, not responding immediately.
Her eyes lit with what she thought was righteous wisdom.
“Even if I can’t control you,” she said coldly, “I’m not going to just stand by and watch you skip class day after day. That’s my duty as class assistant. As long as I’m in this role, I won’t let any student fall into laziness.”
“…Okay.” I subtly curled my fingers, shrinking back slightly to avoid her pointed, judgmental gaze.
“I wasn’t feeling well, so I didn’t attend military training.”
“Enough,” she interrupted, a trace of scorn in her voice.
“Do you think I haven’t heard that one before? You pampered types always say you’re ‘not feeling well’.”
“Don’t bother explaining.”
“In my opinion, people like you are conveniently ‘unwell’ all year round. Can’t carry a thing, can’t lift a finger—what can you even do?”
Can she even hear herself? I furrowed my brows. Throwing around accusations before even knowing someone?
I was getting annoyed.
After tossing out those sharp remarks, she returned to her seat in the front row. “Don’t skip class again tomorrow.”
“If you weren’t one of the freshmen I’m responsible for, I wouldn’t waste my time.”
“But since I am the class assistant, it’s my job to correct this toxic behavior.”
“If you’ve got a problem with me, go ahead and request for me to be replaced.”
“In that case, I won’t bother with you again.”
I took a deep breath and forced myself to swallow the rising frustration.
What is her problem? Explosive much?
We had just met—and already she’d decided I was some good-for-nothing freeloader?
Okay, fine. I did oversleep and miss class this morning. That was on me. I couldn’t argue with that.
But as for military training? That wasn’t me being lazy.
What stopped me from snapping back at her right then and there was the fact that—despite everything—
she did seem to take her responsibilities seriously.
Forget it. There’s no point arguing with someone who’s just trying to do her job properly. But still—
If you don’t know the full picture, don’t make judgments.
Doing your job is one thing; that doesn’t mean you get to act so extreme. Since I couldn’t reason with her, I quietly made a mental note to hold a tiny grudge.
“Mommy, you’re getting way too soft,” Si Zhiruo pouted, looking even more upset than I was.
“If you ask me, you should’ve just killed her on the spot… She’s just a human. How dare she talk back to the Ghost King?”
She muttered under her breath, “Hmph, nobody gets to bully my mommy.”
I let out a soft chuckle. The earlier frustration had already faded like smoke in the wind. “That’s what happens when you become a mother. You start wanting to earn some good karma for your child.”
With a child like her, always thinking of me first, what do I even have to be upset about?
She’s enough.
Si Zhiruo didn’t quite understand my sudden change in mood and was still stewing in her righteous indignation. Her eyes kept drifting toward the first row like she’d tear that woman into pieces the second I stopped holding her back.
“Alright, class is starting.”
“This class doesn’t do roll calls. We take attendance by name. Anyone not here will be marked as absent, receive zero participation points, and even if they get full marks on the final exam, it still won’t count. You’ll have to retake the course next year.”
“Remember, my class offers no make-up exams. Miss one session and you fail.”
The middle-aged woman’s tone was sharp and commanding. With just a few short sentences, she had the whole classroom silenced.
Strict academic rules were a known hallmark of Beiqing. Many had heard similar warnings in the morning already, so after a moment of bracing themselves, the rustling sound of pages turning began to spread through the lecture hall.
On the large screen, names were being projected one by one.
I glanced up casually—and sure enough, my name wasn’t on the list. Su Liumeng’s pull really was something else.
Once again, I found myself re-evaluating the weight of the Su family.
In the mortal world, the Su family held decisive power. They even had direct descendants occupying major positions in the government.
Just as the instructor was calling names, a head peeked in through the back door.
Shangguan Xiyue knocked politely, then strolled in as if she owned the place.
I saw it with my own eyes—the instructor’s eye twitched, but she said nothing and just kept calling names.
“Xiaoyan, here’s your textbook,”
“And your notebook and gel pen.”
It was sweltering outside. The ends of Shangguan Xiyue’s hair were damp with sweat, and she was still catching her breath in small pants.
“Thanks.” I tilted my head and gave her a sweet smile.
“You little rascal. You only act sweet when you need something from me.” Shangguan Xiyue couldn’t help but laugh. She looked like she wanted to pinch my cheek but stopped halfway.
She teased, “But normally, talking to you is like trying to get a mute toddler to speak. Takes half a day just to get a sentence out.”
“Of course I didn’t….” I deliberately dragged out the words and cast her a plaintive sideways glance.
“Mm-hmm, of course you didn’t…”
By now, plenty of students in the class had already noticed the stir on our side.
After all, Shangguan Xiyue was something of a celebrity on campus.
As the student council president, her cold demeanor and decisive leadership were well-known. No one had ever seen her act so patient—let alone speak so indulgently—with anyone.
First Su Liumeng, now Shangguan Xiyue?
Speculation about my identity was growing by the minute. There were only so many prestigious families in the country, and the list of possibilities was shrinking fast.
More and more people were starting to wonder—just which family’s little princess was capable of drawing the attention of not one, but both of these figures?
In the front row, the class assistant—who also happened to be part of the student council—had never exchanged a single word with Shangguan Xiyue before.
Instinctively, she averted her gaze, only to meet a pair of cold, warning eyes.
Shangguan Xiyue’s lips moved silently. Her words were unspoken, but no less terrifying for it: “I’ve heard all about your personality. If I find out you’re picking on Xiaoyan, just wait and see.”
I shot her a side-eye.
No matter how hard she tried to sound fierce, her soft voice still came off like she was being coquettish.
I had been trying so hard to change that impression—yet it still led to misunderstandings.
“Alright, enough threatening people,” I said lightly.
“Let me focus and get through class in peace.”
“Fine, fine, you’re the young lady here. Your word is law. I’ll shut up,” Shangguan Xiyue said, sounding helpless.
Her best friend was perfect in every way—except for the fact that she refused to take advantage of her connections.
But really, that wasn’t the whole story.
It wasn’t about wielding power unfairly. When it came to Si Xinyan, Shangguan Xiyue just got nervous.
Subconsciously, she wanted to eliminate every possible danger before it even had the chance to grow.
In the front row, the class assistant sat with her head bowed low. A flash of resentment crossed her eyes, only to be quickly replaced by firm resolve.
Faced with a power she couldn’t hope to resist, she was still trying to hold fast to her principles.
Li Mei had already been transferred to Class 2. Each academic advisor was responsible for a few classes in the same major.
I didn’t see Li Mei anywhere today, which put me in a decent mood. I rested my chin in one hand, tilting my head as I studied the textbook. Slivers of sunlight filtered in through the window, landing gently across my brows and eyes.
I was listening attentively, as though time itself had paused just for this moment.
The girl beside me glanced over without thinking, her eyes still filled with amazement.
If there was ever such a thing as a perfect, tranquil moment—this must be it.
Some people were just born to be the center of attention. Every little movement, every glance, pulled at the hearts of those around them—and not without reason.
University students, after all, were some of the nosiest people alive.
And with the semester just beginning, the prettiest freshmen had already been quietly shortlisted as candidates for department beauties or campus queens.