—When we are unaware of the source of danger, we remain treading the precipice of the abyss.
Fate, at times, truly works in mysterious ways.
Whenever An Xiaotao recalled the past, she would sigh with this sentiment.
She had once been merely a geometry teacher in Golden Hook City. While some might consider a player serving as a schoolteacher a waste of talent, An Xiaotao cherished the act of imparting knowledge. Education, she firmly believed, was an intangible force; those who underestimated its power were bound to suffer greatly.
She harbored no fondness for students who merely followed rules obediently. Instead, she delighted in their myriad strange and curious questions, even those clearly intended to challenge her. Such antics never troubled her.
Curiosity, she knew, was always a virtue, the very cornerstone of humanity’s progress into the future.
All knowledge in the world blossoms from ‘I don’t know’ to ‘I want to know.’ In this regard, teachers are no different from their students; both journey from ‘not understanding’ to ‘understanding.’
If a student struggled to comprehend, she would offer patient explanations. If she herself was stumped, she would humbly admit her ignorance.
No one was an omniscient deity; everyone had their gaps in knowledge.
To bravely acknowledge one’s ignorance was far superior to feigning knowledge.
Her diminutive stature made her appear more like an elementary school student than a middle school teacher. Coupled with her exceedingly amiable and utterly harmless demeanor, it wasn’t uncommon for boys to utter ambiguous remarks to her. In terms of her actual age, she could have been a grandmother to many of them.
Fortunately, the advantage of a long life lay precisely here: having witnessed so much, she had become adept at handling such childish declarations. Even so, when someone spoke those words earnestly, she would still listen attentively. It was a fundamental courtesy, even if the timing of their words was ill-suited.
Yet, she always wondered whether the boys saw her as an ‘adult’ or a ‘grade-schooler’ when they spoke those words…
This was crucial, as it potentially involved implicit harassment targeting elementary school students…
Still, it didn’t truly matter, as she wasn’t actually an elementary school student. Even if her students harbored such thoughts, they couldn’t be blamed—only actions were culpable, never mere thoughts.
Had it not been for the World War, she might have continued this life of teaching and nurturing alongside Du Ruo indefinitely.
Alas, war was not a matter they could decide.
With the outbreak of war, they joined the police force. Possessing professional police licenses already, they quickly became officers responsible for maintaining local order.
Initially, she and Du Ruo had obtained their professional police licenses out of a passing interest. However, shortly after acquiring them, their enthusiasm for police work waned, and they immersed themselves in the more captivating field of education. Little did they know that those licenses would one day prove indispensable…
As Xuanji Star launched its deep incursions, military numbers dwindled severely. Even police officers began to be militarized and armed, thrown into what would become the largest war in human history.
Among them, too, were her own students…
As the war escalated and more territories fell, Vega lost a vast number of its conscriptable population. The conscription age range had to be expanded repeatedly—not only schoolteachers but even students were not exempt.
Those were dark times. Schools closed, and education all but ceased. Theoretically, even with fighting on the front lines, teaching in the rear should not have halted.
But there was no alternative. If Vega were to perish in this war, all education would become meaningless. Xuanji Star would impose a new education on the surviving Vega populace—an education belonging to Xuanji Star…
Ultimately, the war concluded…
But An Xiaotao could no longer return to her school… her former school was gone…
She could only continue as a police officer until the role no longer required her. Fortunately, the police force also had schools. She could still teach and nurture, though the curriculum had changed.
No longer were ‘ideologies’ taught, but ‘discipline’.
Perhaps this was progress for the era! Discipline had supplanted ideology…
She was no longer a ‘guide,’ but a ‘guardian’—guarding her students’ right to education, protecting their lives from harm, and defending their freedom of thought…
This, then, was the full meaning of her standing here now.
She stood on tiptoes at the edge of the rooftop, surveying the distant streets.
Worldly Affairs City was truly vast! Although Golden Hook City was a coastal city, its scale couldn’t compare to Worldly Affairs City. As a city primarily focused on fishing, it was filled with various aquaculture and processing facilities, so its lack of the same prosperity was understandable.
As a gentle breeze swept through, her body swayed precariously at the rooftop’s edge. Swiftly, a hand seized her wrist.
—Principal, be careful.
Ichijō Hi pulled An Xiaotao back from the edge. An Xiaotao, caught by inertia, spun several times in place like a top.
Her body remained terrifyingly light… even an elementary school student wouldn’t be this weightless…
—Oh~ I’m spinning!
An Xiaotao’s body slowly ceased its rotation. After nearly toppling over once more, she finally regained her wobbly balance.
—Actually, Ichijō, you don’t need to grab me. Have you forgotten my ability? I won’t get hurt.
—But I can’t just watch you repeatedly dance on the edge of danger.
Ichijō Hi had almost added, ‘Even if you don’t get hurt, what if you fall on someone?’ but ultimately held her tongue. After all, this was her former principal; even if she was no longer her student, respect was due.
Watching An Xiaotao settle onto the rooftop’s edge, Ichijō Hi’s worries resurfaced, as if a mere gust of wind could send An Xiaotao tumbling backward.
—I heard the story you were telling just now! I’ve seen the case files for that one myself.
Hearing An Xiaotao refer to the case she had just discussed, Ichijō Hi was momentarily unsure which one it was. Assuming An Xiaotao had unique insights, she asked curiously.
—Which one?
—The r*pe and murder case.
—Is there a problem with it?
—I wasn’t trying to say there was anything wrong with the case itself or with your description. It’s just that you got too caught up in the telling; your psychological shifts were evident in your tone. You should really present it more objectively, I mean, stripping away your own emotions and speaking from the perspective of an ‘announcer.’
An Xiaotao straightened her wind-tousled clothes. The ‘Starfall’ medal, worn on the left side of her chest, marked her as one of Vega’s mere ten recipients. According to regulations, she was permitted to wear this medal on any occasion.
The ribbon adopted an Eastern Continent style, while the medal itself followed a Western design. Its central motif was an inverted five-pointed star riddled with cracks, which, despite being metal, evoked the aesthetic of ‘Shi kiln’ porcelain.
Gazing around, one could vaguely discern the hidden snipers within Xuanji Star’s occupied territory…
She knew these individuals weren’t targeting Vega specifically, but rather prepared for any potential emergencies—even if their rifle muzzles indeed pointed towards Vega’s side.
—Yes… but sometimes… it’s just hard to control oneself. As I speak, personal feelings inevitably seep into the narrative… I won’t do it again in the future.
Ichijō Hi nodded thoughtfully, while An Xiaotao waved a hand before her, checking if she had drifted too far into thought.
—What’s wrong?
—Look, I wasn’t criticizing you. I was just offering my opinion; don’t take it too much to heart. If a single remark from me stops you from discussing these cases in the future, wouldn’t that be a huge loss?
—No, I just feel that in the future, I shouldn’t let personal emotions influence my storytelling. It’s too easy to sway others’ feelings.
—See, you’re overcorrecting again. My words are only meant as a reference. You shouldn’t feel obligated to follow my advice just because I was once the principal of Polzo. You should have your own judgment and ideas. Besides…
An Xiaotao leaned back, and Ichijō Hi instinctively reached out to grab her. But this time, An Xiaotao’s body flattened in mid-air, then slowly bent forward, successfully returning to an upright sitting position.
Ichijō Hi was genuinely startled. When would her principal finally stop flirting with danger on the edge of rooftops!
—Furthermore, the idea that ‘a police officer shouldn’t let personal emotions influence their case narratives’ isn’t entirely accurate. While police officers uphold social order, their essence lies in serving citizens. Without empathy, it’s often difficult to truly understand those in distress, to think what they think, or to feel the urgency of their needs. The key lies in mastering ‘proportion.’
—We are instruments of force maintaining social order, that much is true, but we are not robots. We are human beings, just like every citizen, and as humans, it’s impossible to completely sever ourselves from emotion, just like Ke Yiyi.
—Hm?
Ichijō Hi raised an eyebrow. Did Principal An already know about what happened with Ke Yiyi?
A thought struck her: An Xiaotao’s information channels were undoubtedly faster than her own. Although currently the Chief of Police for Golden Hook City, that didn’t mean her role was limited to just that…
—I understand. It’s not about being devoid of emotion, but about not being controlled by it.
An Xiaotao tapped her finger in the air and promptly added.
—Nor is it about having no stance, but about not being constrained by one. Alright, it’s almost time. We should get going.
—While it sounds easy, doing it is another matter entirely.
Ichijō Hi gestured towards the path leading down, but An Xiaotao didn’t go first. Instead, she waved her hand, signaling for Ichijō Hi to lead the way, dismissing any superfluous rules about respecting elders.
—No matter how difficult something is, someone must eventually try it. When the Wright Sisters invented the airplane, they didn’t overthink it either.
Seeing An Xiaotao’s smile, Ichijō Hi couldn’t help but return it. She watched a butterfly flutter up from below, spread its wings, and fly off into the distance, a trace of sorrow inadvertently appearing on her face.
—Principal… Chief…
—Don’t call me Chief! I’m not the Chief of Worldly Affairs City; I’m the Chief of Golden Hook City.
—Yes… I’m a little worried…
An Xiaotao turned to look at the butterfly flying into the distance, speaking thoughtfully.
—Worried about Saichi?
—Yes, you know she has ‘psychogenic mental disorder’…
—Worried she can’t handle her current position?
—Not really. She did very well in the archives department previously; I’m not concerned about that.
—Then you’re worried that coming to Worldly Affairs City, where she was harmed, will trigger her?
—Yes, but we’re not in the same department, and I can’t say much to her superiors who selected her… I just feel she should avoid ‘potential triggers’ to prevent unnecessary issues.
—Actually, no one else chose her. I recommended her.
—Hm? Why?
—Even with her psychogenic mental disorder, she still passed the police force’s assessment. In other words, the police force believes she can handle her current duties. We should also give her the chance to confront all of this. Constant evasion is meaningless. You must trust her, just as you trust me.
An Xiaotao swayed, then vanished into the shadows behind the door.
—Vega has already lost too much. It’s not just Yagami Saichi who suffers from psychogenic mental disorder, but all of Vega… Some things we must face sooner or later, and that applies not only to her.