Dragon Court Academy, Principal’s office.
Aya Tone and Deng Hongcheng sat opposite each other, a silent vigil maintained between them. Yet, Deng Hongcheng’s sporadic sighs betrayed the heart brimming with resignation beneath his outwardly placid demeanor. His helplessness was profound.
The individual before him was no ordinary teacher; should Aya Tone genuinely choose defiance, he possessed no actual authority to impose punishment. After all, S-rank status was a privilege in itself.
As for Aya Tone, he found himself utterly speechless. Caught in the act, what possible defense could he mount?
Ying Li, lounging on the sofa beside Aya Tone, delicately sipped her fragrant tea, seemingly oblivious to the palpable tension that permeated the office. The faint clink of her teacup against the tabletop resounded sharply in the otherwise silent office.
“Ah…” A myriad of unspoken words seemed to coalesce, culminating in a prolonged sigh from Deng Hongcheng. He drew a deep breath, composing himself before asking softly, “Teacher Aya Tone, do you understand your mistake?”
His tone was devoid of the usual sternness of a superior reprimanding a subordinate; instead, it resembled that of a grandfather gently guiding his grandson who had erred. Primarily, he feared that too harsh a tone might trigger a defensive reaction, complicating matters further for him.
“Principal, I was wrong!”
Seizing the opening Deng Hongcheng had offered, Aya Tone immediately scrambled to accept it. ‘If not now, when indeed?’ There was an ancient adage in Z-Country: ‘He who understands the times is a true hero!’
Upon hearing Aya Tone’s admission, Deng Hongcheng’s tightly furrowed brow eased. “Then tell me,” he prompted, “what exactly did you do wrong?” He raised his teacup to his lips, poised to hear Aya Tone’s self-assessment of his transgressions.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Aya Tone declared readily, “I shouldn’t have been late, then allowed the students to wreak havoc, leading to mana depletion and ultimately, hospitalization.”
“Mm-hmm.” Deng Hongcheng nodded. “And what else?”
“Furthermore, I shouldn’t have dismissed class prematurely, thereby depriving students of their right to education!”
“Mm-hmm, anything else?”
“That’s all.”
“Mm… mm?” Deng Hongcheng froze mid-sip, his gaze flickering to Aya Tone. “Are you certain that’s all?”
A flicker of guilt crossed Aya Tone’s face under his scrutiny, but he brazened it out with a defiant nod.
“Since that’s all, then it’s my turn to speak.” Deng Hongcheng returned his cup to the tabletop, then folded his hands, resting them gently on his knees. A hint of anger now shadowed his benevolent face. As for S-rank status? ‘Hmph, regardless of the implications, he would speak!’
“Lateness! Reckless use of high-risk magic without full understanding! And finally, instigating students to evade accountability! Tell me, is that truly all?”
With each accusation Deng Hongcheng uttered, Aya Tone’s face grew a shade paler. He had intended to attempt a feeble defense, but Ying Li, ostensibly detached beside him, suddenly remarked nonchalantly, “There are surveillance cameras in the training ground.”
Aya Tone’s damned sense of false hope was instantly torn to shreds. Surveillance cameras—such a ubiquitous tool, how could he possibly have forgotten them?
“I… I…” Tears streamed uncontrollably down his cheeks, dripping onto his shorts. His shoulders trembled slightly, his hands tightly clutching the hem of his clothes.
Witnessing Aya Tone’s aggrieved face, with glistening tears still clinging to the corners of his reddened eyes, Deng Hongcheng’s indignation involuntarily softened. The anger in his tone abated. “I am not reprimanding you; I simply want you to understand that students are the very lifeblood of us teachers—no, to be precise, they are the continuation of our lives. They are all our children, and every action we take subtly influences them. Do you understand?”
In that moment, he saw only a child who had erred, not an S-rank adventurer.
“I know! I’m not crying!” Aya Tone argued defiantly. He bit his lip, his head bowed low, unwilling to let others witness his vulnerability. Yet, the tears, like uncontrollable sprites, continued to well up and spill forth. He wasn’t lying; his emotional fortitude wasn’t so fragile as to permit such a display of tears. He just didn’t understand why, after merely being chided, the damn tears in his eyes simply refused to cease flowing. It was as if this body had a mind of its own, its actions conflicting with the will of him, its reluctant driver. ‘Damn it, they simply wouldn’t stop…’
It was only after a few moments that his agitated emotions slowly subsided.
“We have reviewed the surveillance footage and ascertained the full sequence of events,” Deng Hongcheng paused, casting a glance at Ying Li, then continued, “You acted impetuously out of concern for your students, but without any repercussion, it would undoubtedly invite discontent from others. Therefore, I will assign you to handwrite an eight-hundred-word self-reflection. How about you submit it to me next time you’re here?”
“An eight-hundred-word self-reflection?” His voice, still thick with tears, and the fresh streaks on his face, lent him an air of utter vulnerability. Though this was not the demeanor Aya Tone intended to project, his voice inexplicably adopted such a plaintive frequency. ‘This saccharine whine, how utterly nauseating…’
‘Yet, if this unpleasantness could transform a monetary fine into a written self-reflection, it seemed… not entirely unpalatable. Could all this truly be part of your grand design, O my body? How utterly capable!’
“I accept this punishment!”
“Then, may I… take my leave now?” Aya Tone inquired cautiously. He had originally planned to dismiss class early and head home sooner. Instead, he hadn’t even left the academy grounds before being escorted to the office by Deng Hongcheng and Ying Li.
“Mm-hmm, you may return now,” Deng Hongcheng nodded gently. Granted the principal’s assent, Aya Tone used his sleeve to wipe away the lingering dampness from his eye corners. After offering a quick word of thanks to Deng Hongcheng, he hurriedly dashed off to find Li Huaiming, his driver.
****
As the silver-haired figure departed, the office door slowly swung shut. The gentleness on Deng Hongcheng’s face gradually receded, replaced by a distinct solemnity.
“What are your thoughts?”
Ying Li, seated opposite him, naturally understood the unspoken implication of Deng Hongcheng’s question.
“That spell was several times more potent than anything seen during the ranking match. I… I couldn’t have withstood it.”
Ying Li had not been at the academy that afternoon; she had spent the entire morning sending every student enrolled in practical combat classes to the infirmary. Thus, in the afternoon, she had left the academy to return to her residence, which was situated near an S-rank dungeon. Her sudden appearance here was solely due to the towering pillar of crimson light that had captivated her soul. Even from the opposite side of the city, far from the academy, her soul and body had distinctly felt the oppressive force emanating from that spell. Her years of accumulated combat intuition screamed a warning: to directly confront that spell would mean death. Her anti-magic abilities would have been utterly useless in obstructing it.
Deng Hongcheng pondered for a moment. “Are you implying that the Silver-Haired Witch was holding back during her exhibition match against you?”
“No!” Ying Li shook her head in confusion, then stated resolutely, “During the exhibition match, I sensed that neither of us held anything back. What I can’t comprehend is how her strength could have increased so dramatically in just a few days.” This was the point that truly baffled Ying Li.
Err, the power of concern?