The only thing giving Yaselin a headache now was Ye Lan’s eating style.
It was so conspicuous that subtle glances kept flicking toward them.
Yaselin whispered:
“Hey, Ye Lan, can you… tone it down a bit?”
Ye Lan, focused on devouring his food, looked up at her words.
He scanned the people around them and then said:
“Doesn’t matter.”
After that, he continued eating voraciously.
Ye Lan knew aristocratic etiquette, of course—every military academy taught it.
But pretending to be refined was exhausting, and he was too lazy for that.
At least, in a buffet, it wasn’t necessary to act elegant.
“If you’re almost done, let’s go…” Yaselin muttered.
She didn’t know whether to stay or leave.
She just hoped Ye Lan would finish quickly so they could pay and leave.
What made her even more anxious was the feeling that someone was approaching them.
It was an instinctive unease, and she was terrified of getting caught up in trouble.
If Ye Lan knew what Yaselin feared, he could only say her intuition was spot-on.
“Bang!” A pair of hands slammed heavily on the table.
The force made the stacked bowls jump and even toppled Ye Lan’s bowl.
“Hey! E Class bumpkin! You two made D Class lose face?”
Ye Lan lifted his head to look at the uninvited guest.
The boy was much bigger than Ye Lan, with a menacing expression and aggressive tone.
The most striking thing was his hairstyle—a sky-high pompadour—making him the stereotypical delinquent.
Around him were many large, fierce-looking students.
It was obvious—they were here to cause trouble.
Ye Lan remained calm, his expression unshaken:
“You’ve got the wrong people. We’re from B Class.”
“Wrong people? Sorry, sorry!” The delinquent instantly shifted his arrogant demeanor and began bowing and kowtowing to Ye Lan.
“It’s nothing,” Ye Lan waved it off as if a grown-up forgiving a petty person.
The D Class student didn’t seem very smart.
Yaselin covered her mouth with her hand, nearly laughing out loud.
Suddenly, she heard Ye Lan whisper near her ear:
“Go quickly.”
That sobered her from her amusement at seeing others squirm.
“No! I’ve seen you—you’re Ye Lan!” The D Class student suddenly realized he’d been tricked.
He turned to Ye Lan and shouted angrily:
“How dare you lie to me? You got some nerve!”
He took three quick steps toward Ye Lan, attempting to grab him.
Ye Lan had his knees under the table.
If the D Class student got close enough, he would flip the table and escape in the chaos.
“Stop.”
But plans rarely survive reality, as a boy stepped out of the crowd and called the D Class student to halt.
Ye Lan’s eyes narrowed—this was a trickier opponent.
Knowledge is victory, so Ye Lan had preemptively learned the student leaders of other classes.
This was D Class’s class president, codenamed “One-Eyed Wolf,” John Edmond.
“So, you’re Ye Lan?” John Edmond scrutinized him, clicking his tongue:
“Truly, don’t judge a person by appearance.”
“The D Class president personally showing up—my honor is immense. So disrespectful!” Ye Lan said politely, but he hadn’t even stood.
Honestly, Ye Lan didn’t want trouble this early.
Having vowed in secret to protect Su Li Xiao, he shouldn’t expose himself so openly.
But a cornered rabbit bites, and he had no retreat now.
“Only running your mouth?” John Edmond mocked:
“Typical coward!”
“Ha ha ha!!!” The people beside him laughed loudly.
But to John Edmond’s frustration, Ye Lan’s expression didn’t change at all.
It was as if he punched air, igniting John Edmond’s anger.
“Look, everyone! This is Ye Lan! The one who abandoned our beautiful student representative during LPB, letting her face the mechs alone!”
John Edmond shouted Ye Lan’s scandal to the cafeteria crowd, treating him like an exhibit:
“This shameless guy even dares to eat lunch publicly! What should we do?”
The people nearby erupted in chatter.
“Strip him and parade him!”
“Not enough! He should be chained like a dog!”
“Don’t forget the whip—one with barbs is better!”
Of course, people love a spectacle, and more bystanders gathered.
John Edmond’s goal—embarrassing Ye Lan—was largely achieved.
He looked down at Ye Lan, taunting:
“After hiding all these days, you’re finally exposed. Paper can never hide fire. You don’t deserve to be with our student representative!”
Even the calmest person would lose their temper after such insults, but John Edmond miscalculated again.
“Enough talking?” Ye Lan’s expression remained calm, as if detached from the chaos.
John Edmond couldn’t believe it.
He met Ye Lan’s gaze and saw only boredom, disdain, and pity.
“How dare you look at me like that?” John Edmond’s anger flared, but he didn’t dare act rashly.
Ye Lan had already noticed that John Edmond kept glancing at a corner of the cafeteria.
Several senior students were dining there.
Pathetic! He needed to gauge others’ eyes before acting—who was the dog here?
Ye Lan pitied the D Class president.
High-level classes bullying low-level ones was normal here, but not for freshmen.
Freshmen didn’t have that overconfident superiority yet, and E Class didn’t feel inferior either.
So D Class sent many to provoke them, clearly under someone’s orders.