Li Dehai and I were dragged to the basketball court outside the dormitory, his hand still clamped over his bleeding nose.
The security guards took down our class information and called our respective homeroom teachers. Li Dehai's advisor—a math teacher in his forties with gold-rimmed glasses—arrived first. Taking one look at Li Dehai's bloody nose, he demanded an explanation. One of Li Dehai's lackeys immediately pointed at me. "He did it!"
Then Jiang Qingqing showed up.
She strode straight to me. "What happened?"
I explained the situation truthfully: how Li Dehai had ambushed me in my dorm, how I'd only fought back in self-defense.
Jiang Qingqing listened, then turned to the math teacher. "Mr. Huang, your students provoked this. Mine was defending himself. If there are no further issues, I'll be taking him back now."
Just like that, she whisked me away—no arguments, no detention slips.
As we walked, she suddenly asked, "Free right now? Help me move something."
Considering she'd just saved me from disciplinary hell, the least I could do was carry a few boxes. I expected classroom supplies, but instead, she led me to the security office, where a massive, suspiciously heavy package waited.
The new faculty dormitory was clear across campus by the track field. Fourth floor—of course it had to be the fourth floor. By the time I heaved the box into her spotless new apartment, I was drenched in sweat.
"Water or juice?" she asked.
"Water." I gulped down half the bottle in one go.
Noticing my exhaustion, she gestured to the bathroom. "Wash up."
When I emerged, I tried to leave. "If that's all, I'll head back—"
"Sit." She patted the sofa. "We need to talk."
My stomach dropped. Did she figure out the WeChat thing? But how? I'd never sent photos...
Tea and fruit sat on the coffee table. "Help yourself," she said, casually peeling an apple.
"I'm full," I lied, perching stiffly on the edge of the couch.
She smirked. "Why so nervous? You weren't this shy when writing love letters in my class."
Heat flooded my face. I stared at my shoes.
"Relax," she said, setting the apple aside. "I just want to talk about that incident."
We spoke for about twenty minutes—surface-level stuff, really—before she finally let me go, pressing two apples into my hands as I left.
Back in the dorm, Curly pounced. "You got fruit from getting hauled to security?!"
I tossed him an apple and recounted Jiang Qingqing's intervention.
"She always backs her students," Curly said through a mouthful. "Remember when Wang Kai got in that cafeteria fight last month? She had his back too."
Afternoon - PE Class
After mandatory laps, we were set loose for free time. Curly and I sneaked off to buy drinks, only to return to our class monitor Li Nan staring at me oddly.
"Someone's looking for you." She pointed toward the basketball courts.
A group of girls stood there. "The one in white," Li Nan said.
Curly stiffened. "That's Zhao Lin. Rich girl. BMW pickup after school. What'd you do to piss her off?"
As I approached, I got my first proper look at her—sharp features, striking arched eyebrows that gave her an imperious air.
"You're Zhang Cheng?" she asked.