Song Weisha could never admit that she had "helped" Song Yue with homework before. Not without exposing herself.
Song Weisha's temples throbbed painfully. Her heart beat wildly as unease crawled up her spine. She was certain of it. This had happened yesterday. In the study. While she was locked inside.
This had to be Song Yue's doing.
"Teacher Yang," she said through clenched teeth, forcing her voice to stay steady, "this isn't my homework. Someone deliberately switched notebooks to frame me. Song Yue must have touched mine. That handwriting is hers!"
Song Yue laughed softly, the sound light and mocking. "Touched your notebook? Don't accuse me of things I didn't do. If you're that confident, then let everyone check the handwriting."
She turned her head casually. "Hey, Beagle. You sit next to her, right? You should recognize your girlfriend's handwriting."
Bi Ge instantly exploded. "Who are you calling a dog?! You're the Beagle! No—worse, a short-legged sausage dog!"
Song Yue narrowed her eyes and straightened slightly. "Mind your language. I'm very refined. If anything, I'm a poodle."
Teacher Yang slammed his palm on the desk. "Enough! Bi Ge, pick a few classmates. Pass the notebook around and verify the handwriting."
The notebook moved from desk to desk.
At first, there were whispers. Then faces slowly stiffened. One by one, students fell silent.
The handwriting was unmistakable.
Every stroke, every curve—it was Song Weisha's.
"Well?" Teacher Yang demanded, his voice sharp. "What's the result?"
No one dared to speak.
Offending the eldest daughter of the Song family was already risky. Offending her boyfriend on top of that was even worse.
Song Weisha finally grabbed the notebook back, staring at it as if it had betrayed her. Even she couldn't tell the difference. It was too perfect.
Song Yue watched quietly, her eyes calm and satisfied.
She had practiced that handwriting for years. Every detail was burned into her memory. This time, she hadn't missed a single stroke.
Teacher Yang straightened. "Since this is clearly your handwriting, I will report this matter immediately. Vulgar and inappropriate content in homework is unacceptable. This will be handled seriously."
He picked up the notebook and walked out.
The classroom door hadn't even fully closed when Song Weisha snapped.
She rushed forward, eyes red and wild. "Song Yue! How dare you!"
Song Yue stepped aside effortlessly and lifted her leg, sending a sharp kick that brushed across Song Weisha's cheek.
"Back off," she said coldly.
Bi Ge rushed over, furious. "You hit her! I'm reporting this to the principal!"
Lan Xia stepped in without hesitation, her expression cool. "She attacked first. There are cameras in the classroom and hallway. Go ahead. Tell them everything."
Song Weisha froze.
She knew Lan Xia was right.
Bi Ge glared helplessly, then supported Song Weisha and hurried her out toward the infirmary, his face burning with humiliation.
The moment they left, cheers burst out from the back rows.
Students who had long been fed up with the so-called perfect couple laughed, clapped, and whispered excitedly.
Song Yue leaned back and gave a lazy salute. A clean win.
But when the next bell rang, the excitement drained away. She slumped forward, resting her head on her folded arms.
"Hun?" Lan Xia nudged her gently. "You won. Why do you look so depressed?"
"Leave me alone," Song Yue muttered, her voice muffled.
Lan Xia leaned closer, lowering her voice. "Still thinking about him?"
Song Yue lifted her head slightly, hesitated, then whispered, "Does it… hurt the first time?"
Lan Xia blinked. "Where did that come from?"
"I'm just asking," Song Yue said, fidgeting with her fingers. "He's… kind of scary."
Lan Xia snorted. "Relax. People our age aren't supposed to be clueless. You're eighteen, not twelve."
Song Yue's ears instantly burned. "I've never… seen it."
Lan Xia grinned and pulled out her phone. "The internet teaches everything. Want me to recommend a site? And a VPN?"
Song Yue glanced once and nearly combusted. She slapped the screen dark. "Enough!"
Lan Xia burst out laughing. "I'm just saying—you'll survive."
"I might try tonight," Song Yue murmured, half to herself.
Before Lan Xia could reply, the loudspeaker crackled to life.
"Attention students. A visiting European noble, the only one of our lineage holding the title of Duke, has arrived to donate artifacts to the school museum. Please assemble on the playground."
Song Yue groaned softly.
European noble. Duke.
For some reason, an unpleasant face flashed through her mind. A bastard with that exact title. And a very bad first meeting.
Her mood sank even lower.
The students were soon arranged into neat lines on the playground, the usual noise replaced by restless whispers and barely contained excitement.
A flash of red caught everyone's attention.
A red convertible rolled smoothly through the school gates, polished to a shine that reflected the morning sun. The engine purred softly before coming to a stop. A moment later, the door opened, and a man stepped out.
He was tall, strikingly handsome, with sharp features and a smile that looked beautiful at first glance—but carried an edge, like a blade hidden beneath silk.
Song Yue's breath caught.
Li Meiran.
This bastard.
The moment her eyes landed on him, her blood seemed to freeze in her veins. Every memory she didn't want came rushing back at once.
The principal hurried forward, face glowing with excitement. "Welcome, Duke Li. Welcome, Mr. Sikong."
Thunderous applause erupted. Girls screamed without restraint, some even clutching their chests as if they might faint.
Song Yue clenched her fists tightly at her sides.
Please. Anyone. Let me disappear right now.
While the crowd buzzed with excitement, Li Meiran's gaze drifted calmly across the field. He ignored the screams, his eyes moving slowly, deliberately, as if searching for something.
Then, his lips curved.
Found you.
*
Wherever Li Meiran's gaze passed, sharp screams followed.
His looks were almost unreal, his features carved with precision and danger. There was nothing warm or gentle about his beauty. It didn't feel like sunlight. It felt like cold steel flashing in the dark.
He didn't need to smile wider. He didn't need to speak.
Just standing there was enough to throw the girls into chaos, their hearts captured before they even realized what was happening.
His eyes skimmed past the crowd and finally rested on the principal. "Good afternoon."
"Duke Li, Master Sikong," the principal said eagerly, bowing deeply. "Please, this way to the meeting room."
Li Meiran and Sikong Jue followed him into the teaching building, teachers surrounding them on both sides.
The moment they turned away, the girls surged forward, trying desperately to catch another glimpse.
"How can someone look like that?" one girl whispered breathlessly. "I'd do anything just to talk to him! Song Weisha, your family's prestigious too, right? Do you know him?"
Song Weisha forced a polite smile. "European nobility and domestic prestige aren't the same," she replied calmly. "Among noble titles, a Duke ranks just below the King."
Her gaze followed Li Meiran's disappearing figure, her nails digging painfully into her palms.
Normally, she would have been the student representative welcoming important guests.
Always her.
But today, Teacher Yang had dragged her straight to the principal's office for a scolding. If it weren't for her surname, the incident would have been officially recorded in her file.
Instead, Wang Jing and Bi Ge had taken her place.
Watching Wang Jing walk confidently into the meeting room felt like acid burning through Song Weisha's chest.
That should have been me.
And all of this was because of Song Yue.
Inside the meeting room, the principal asked the student representatives to introduce the school and its history.
Li Meiran raised a hand casually, interrupting. "I heard a young lady of the Song family studies here."