A Corridor Brawl and Its Consequences

Zhang Qian, aware of Ji Ye’s aversion to E, immediately reined in his curiosity. He swiftly changed the subject.

“Speaking of which, class rep,” he began, “do your families approve of you top-tier Betas transferring to the regular classes?”

He knew Tian Jingwen had clashed with her family over her decision to join Class 8. He wondered if He Chuanrong was similarly rebellious.

He Chuanrong looked up, formulating his response.

“You ask too many questions. Class is starting.”

“Hey…”

Zhang Qian didn’t even have time to finish his sentence before Ji Ye pulled and tugged him around.

The class bell rang precisely on time.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of all these minor issues for you.”

Ji Ye glanced back, addressing He Chuanrong. He had inadvertently noticed the ‘guardian’ field was blank on He Chuanrong’s form when he visited Old Wen’s office earlier.

Watching Ji Ye’s radiant smile, He Chuanrong felt a rush of mixed emotions, a strange bitterness in his heart. He wanted to offer his thanks, but Ji Ye had already turned away.

His gaze lingered on Ji Ye for a few seconds before slowly drifting away.

During physics class, He Chuanrong occasionally stole glances at Ji Ye from the corner of his eye. Whenever he noticed Ji Ye’s attention wandering, he would gently nudge his arm as a reminder.

Ji Ye, brought back to reality, would offer an embarrassed smile, shaking his head slightly to force himself to focus on the lecture.

However, after a few minutes, Ji Ye could no longer endure it. He propped his chin in his hands, his brow deeply furrowed, and sighed profoundly in his mind, casting a quick glance at He Chuanrong, who was listening intently.

His gaze swept across the surrounding students. Sure enough, most of them wore vacant expressions, their faces clouded with confusion, making the classroom atmosphere incredibly dull.

Finding the physics teacher’s explanation utterly incomprehensible, Ji Ye simply pulled out his sketch paper from his desk compartment and began practicing the content his art teacher had previously taught.

It felt as though an eternity had passed before the dismissal bell finally chimed. Ji Ye twisted his stiff neck, and in an instant, the previously silent classroom erupted with renewed life.

After playing for a few seconds, the music for the break exercises stopped, followed by an announcement that outdoor exercises were canceled due to rain. Students who had been preparing to line up and leave the classroom now dispersed, heading out for some fresh air.

Ji Ye rose, resting his folded arms on the back of his chair. Ye Huicheng, the math class representative, was distributing the weekly test papers. The representative approached Ji Ye and expressionlessly slapped a test paper onto He Chuanrong’s desk.

Upon seeing this, Ji Ye shot him a displeased look. He then picked up He Chuanrong’s test paper. These weekly tests were akin to practice exercises and did not count towards the overall grade.

Ji Ye quickly scanned the paper. After noting the sparse number of red deductions, he tucked it beneath He Chuanrong’s math textbook.

He patted Zhang Qian’s shoulder.

“Report your business.”

Zhang Qian was frowning, staring at his weekly test paper; half an hour’s work had only earned him a massive red X. He sighed deeply, shaking his head repeatedly.

Ji Ye’s gaze swept over the top of Zhang Qian’s head, the striking red X on the weekly paper catching his eye. He leaned forward, forming a gun gesture with his hand.

“Ugh,” Zhang Qian groaned, knowing what Ji Ye meant. He wearily pulled out his phone from his desk compartment without looking up. “Log on.”

Ji Ye, hearing his listless tone, patted his shoulder reassuringly and suggested, “Your deskmate is quite good at math too; you could ask her for help.” He then bent down, struggling to retrieve his phone from his book-filled desk compartment.

Xihe No. 1 High School was a public middle school, allowing both boarding and day students to bring their phones.

“Someone’s downstairs. Grab me a Molotov.”

Ji Ye watched the moving footprints, quickly pushed open the door, and crawled to the rooftop to get equipment from Zhang Qian. Zhang Qian crawled from a corner, tossing a Molotov beside him, and then a grenade for good measure.

“Be careful not to get instantly killed,” Zhang Qian warned.

“Don’t worry, I’ll guard the door well. We’ll definitely get a chicken dinner this time!” Ji Ye, whose skill was lacking but addiction was strong, declared confidently. He quickly crawled back into the stairwell, set his view, and entered a defensive state.

As the footprints moved, his heart pounded, and his breathing grew ragged. He was both expectant and terrified, his body taut with tension.

Ji Ye took a deep breath, attempting to calm his nerves. But the next instant, he saw three sets of footprints, followed by the sound of intense gunfire. He exhaled slowly, watching the number in the top left corner drop from eight to seven, then to six, thinking he could reap the benefits of the struggle.

“Stay here and don’t move. I’m going down to finish them off,” Zhang Qian’s voice came through.

Ji Ye grunted, his heart thumping like a drum, threatening to leap from his throat. He stood up, peering down the stairs to observe the situation below, but an immediate wave of dizziness washed over him.

He wasn’t afraid of heights, but in this game, he would feel dizzy and nauseous after barely ten minutes.

“Hurry up and finish them off. I feel a bit nauseous,” he stated honestly.

Before Zhang Qian could respond, they both heard a heated argument erupt from outside the classroom. Ji Ye looked towards the door, only to see several students from Class 5 aggressively grabbing a Class 8 boy by his collar. During the argument, punches began to land on the boy’s face.

Seeing this, Ji Ye slammed his phone onto the desk, propped his hands on a nearby desk and chair, and leaped out. Zhang Qian, noticing the commotion, hastily fired his last shot before rushing out after him.

In the corridor, several boys from Class 8 and Class 5 were already locked in a brawl, surrounded by many students craning their necks to watch the spectacle.

In the chaotic crowd, Ji Ye immediately spotted Chen Gong, who was striking the hardest. He called out, “Let’s talk this out, no need for violence.”

He grabbed the closest Class 5 student, twisted their right arm behind their back, and kicked a Class 5 student who was embroiled in the fight, all while urging them to stop.

Zhang Qian also joined the fray, loudly trying to break up the fight while secretly punching the Class 5 students.

“Chen Pizi, what’s wrong with you? You’re picking fights with our class now!” Zhang Qian intercepted a punch from a dark-skinned boy, roaring his question while simultaneously landing a punch on a Class 5 student.

Chen Gong shook off Zhang Qian’s grip. Seeing his classmate being hit, his anger flared, and he immediately lunged into a brawl with Zhang Qian.

The scene quickly devolved into utter chaos, with both sides entangled in a massive fight in the corridor.

At this moment, Tian Jingwen and He Chuanrong, having completed their registration, descended from upstairs. As they reached the stairwell corner, they saw a large crowd gathered in the corridor.

Hearing that students from Class 8 and Class 5 were fighting, the two exchanged glances and quickened their pace towards the crowd. He Chuanrong pushed through the onlookers and immediately spotted Ji Ye at the center of the brawl. His face instantly changed, his eyes gaining a glint of ferocity.

“Go find Old Wen.”

He uttered this single sentence before immediately joining the fight.

In truth, given Ji Ye’s fighting prowess, he hardly needed assistance, yet He Chuanrong resolutely plunged into the melee. He simply refused to let Ji Ye get hurt under his watch.

He blocked a punch aimed at Ji Ye’s back, seized the assailant’s wrist, yanked it fiercely, and then swept his leg across the opponent’s knee.

*Thud—*

The boy felt a searing pain in his knee, his face instantly paling. He turned to look at He Chuanrong, only to be met with eyes full of warning.

His instinct for self-preservation made him instinctively back down.

He Chuanrong merely glanced at him before continuing to clear away the people surrounding Ji Ye.

The boy lowered his head, a chill spreading from his spine throughout his body. It was the first time he had ever seen such fierce eyes on a student. Fear rippled through his heart in waves. He struggled to his feet, noticed some people around him filming with their phones, and, recalling his earlier disheveled state, fury instantly shot to his head.

He scanned his surroundings, his gaze settling on the cleaning corner by the window in the Class 8 classroom.

“If I can’t touch you, can’t I touch others?” He violently kicked off the broom head, grabbed the broomstick, and charged back into the crowd. Empowered by the weapon, he swept down a large number of people, feeling incredibly formidable, a triumphant smile blooming on his face.

As the stick was about to strike Ji Ye’s back, He Chuanrong’s heart clenched. He dodged a nearby punch, lifted his leg to kick the boy with the broomstick, but mid-motion, he changed direction and lunged directly towards Ji Ye.

*Bang—*

The broomstick landed squarely on He Chuanrong’s shoulder and back.

Held protectively in front, Ji Ye heard a muffled groan and swiftly caught He Chuanrong as he stumbled forward.

He looked at the boy holding the broomstick, who stood frozen in shock, and was about to charge over and beat him, but He Chuanrong, still in his arms, grabbed his arm.

“Don’t go,” he whispered hoarsely.

“What are you doing? Stop it!” The dean of academic affairs, He Yuan, roared, and the intense fight instantly ceased.

****

Inside He Yuan’s office.

The students involved in the fight stood in a row, heads bowed, not daring to breathe.

Ji Ye supported He Chuanrong, his gaze filled with worry.

Wen Xuanyi, who had rushed over, first surveyed all the students, then walked to He Chuanrong, whom Ji Ye was supporting. Fine beads of sweat dotted He Chuanrong’s forehead, and his shoulder and back burned with pain. He looked up and called out, “Teacher Wen.”

“Speak,” He Yuan said, standing before them with his hands clasped behind his back, his tone stern. “Why were you fighting?”

The students, with their heads bowed, mumbled and pushed the blame amongst themselves.

“The Class 5 students were upset because they lost the last basketball game to our class, so they deliberately came looking for trouble today,” Zhang Qian stated, stepping forward when no one else spoke. He pieced together the truth from fragments of the fight and reported it honestly.

“Ji Ye and I went to break up the fight, but they ganged up on us. He Chuanrong even got hit with a stick.”

As he spoke, he pointed to the person Ji Ye was supporting.

Ji Ye took a step forward, assisting He Chuanrong, to allow He Yuan a clearer view.

“We were trying to mediate, but the Class 5 students were truly aggressive,” Ji Ye said, looking up with a wronged expression.

Upon hearing this, Chen Gong froze, covering his aching cheek and staring at the two with disbelief. He couldn’t believe Zhang Qian and Ji Ye had the gall to lie so brazenly, claiming they were just breaking up the fight when they had clearly participated.

“Teacher, they’re lying! They weren’t breaking up the fight at all; they were hitting people too!” Chen Gong retorted indignantly, raising his head to reveal the cheek that Zhang Qian had punched several times.

“Chen Pizi, don’t falsely accuse good people! We were just trying to stop the fight!” Zhang Qian shouted, turning sideways to face Chen Gong.

Instantly, both sides erupted into arguments, and the office became a cacophony of shouts.

Watching the students bickering, He Yuan slapped his desk, his face a picture of disappointment. “Look at yourselves! You’re all second-year high school students. You have such long breaks, yet instead of seizing every minute to study, you’re brawling and causing trouble.”

“The college entrance exam is right around the corner, and you still have the audacity to squander your time. All of you, write a three-thousand-character self-reflection essay, and you’ll read it aloud to the entire school at the flag-raising ceremony next week.”

Upon hearing the three-thousand-character essay, everyone immediately groaned in unison.

“Teacher, He Chuanrong didn’t participate in the fight. He doesn’t have to write the essay, does he?”

Ji Ye, remembering how He Chuanrong had shielded him from the stick, asked out of guilt.

He Yuan had indeed seen that He Chuanrong had not participated in the brawl, but he still eyed the other students suspiciously, questioning them with his gaze. The Class 8 students all nodded, and when he looked at Class 5, Chen Gong and the others also nodded repeatedly.

Seeing this, He Yuan announced that everyone except He Chuanrong must write the essay, word for word.

Groans erupted once more.

“What are you howling about? Who told you to lay hands on each other?” He Yuan’s anger flared. “Class 5 students, wait for your homeroom teacher to come and get you.”

He turned, his anger now subsided, and respectfully addressed Wen Xuanyi: “Teacher, would you like to discipline them here or take them back to the classroom?”

Most of the school’s leaders were former students of Wen Xuanyi, hence their profound respect for him.

“I’ll take them to my office. Thank you, Xiao He.”

Wen Xuanyi greeted He Yuan and led the Class 8 students out.

“Not at all, Teacher, please take your time,” He Yuan called out loudly towards the door, then turned to face the Class 5 students.

Outside the office, Zhang Qian turned his head and waved at the reprimanded Class 5 students. When his gaze met Chen Gong’s, he deliberately waved twice with a smile.