Chapter 2: The School Bully, Part 2

At the birthday party, the guest outshone the host, but the owner of this body endured it.

An Xiyan, perhaps truly missing a string in her head, brought a vase as a gift—clearly a shoddy piece of cheap street merchandise, worth no more than thirty yuan. Was this not a mockery, calling her nothing but a flower vase? And a poorly made one at that.

Still, the owner of this body bore it. After all, An Xiyan claimed her family was poor, and that the vase was a keepsake from her mother. The owner didn’t care for the gift anyway.

But before she could even take it, the vase, tied with a red plastic ribbon at the neck, slipped from An Xiyan’s hands and shattered into pieces before everyone’s eyes.

Breaking something at a birthday party is an ill omen. The owner hadn’t yet gotten angry, but An Xiyan burst into tears first.

Her eyes, brimming with tears, looked so pitiful that the four campus heartthrobs all blamed the owner, saying that even if she disliked the vase, she shouldn’t have smashed it, especially since it was a memento from the little white flower’s mother. It’s not about the price, but the sentiment. Their words—soft and hard, in all tones—left the owner utterly unable to defend herself.

On her own birthday, the other girl had brought a battered old vase, smashed it in front of everyone, and then accused her of being arrogant and looking down on the poor. Her birthday was thoroughly ruined.

Li Qingyu, who had once been a promising and well-regarded future heiress, instantly became the symbol of a spoiled, overbearing rich girl.

Truly, there was no way to voice her suffering. Was she supposed to release the security footage to prove the vase wasn’t broken by her? If she did that, people would scorn her as petty and vengeful. Of course, in stories, the heroine is always right, and the supporting girl is always wrong.

Xi Ning could barely keep from laughing. “That was a month ago. Am I really that petty?”

An Xiyan’s tears fell like pearls from a broken string. “Qingyu, I really didn’t mean it. I don’t even know how it happened then. I only wanted you to be happy.”

Xi Ning...

Did she not hear what was just said? It was a thing of the past, yet she was dredging it up again. Wasn’t she just implying that Xi Ning was indeed that petty?

“Li Qingyu!” A furious shout shook the entire classroom. A tall, muscular, and handsome young man strode in from the doorway.

From her memory, the fiery temper and taut, athletic build made it clear—this was the Taekwondo Prince, Wang Zilong.

Wang Zilong stood before her, rudely jabbing a finger at Xi Ning’s nose. “Why are you bullying Xiyan again? She’s already so pitiful, with both parents gone, and you still bully her. Do you have any compassion at all?”

Xi Ning...

“It’s not Qingyu’s fault. I know she’s still angry with me. I...” An Xiyan buried her face on the desk, sobbing quietly, her shoulders trembling with sorrow.

Xi Ning...

After all that, it still looked as if she had bullied An Xiyan.

“You listen to me! If you bully Xiyan again, I won’t let you off so easily!” Wang Zilong clenched his fists, his knuckles cracking like popping chestnuts.

Xi Ning’s lips twitched slightly. She stood up—she couldn’t afford to offend them, so she would just avoid them.

As she reached the doorway, a cold, handsome figure leaning against the door spoke in a voice even icier than his expression. “Do you find joy in bullying an orphan?”

That had to be Leng Heming, the cold-faced iceberg. These guys weren’t even in the same class—why did they all rush over the moment the bell rang?

This was a grave injustice, even worse than the legendary Dou E! Xi Ning couldn’t hold back any longer. “Which of your eyes saw me bully her? With that little crybaby, I can’t even get away fast enough!”

Leng Heming merely replied with a chilly snort, as if that alone proved her guilt for bullying the orphan.

The frustration was suffocating. Xi Ning glanced back to see Wang Zilong, who just moments before had been full of bluster, now gently comforting the tearful An Xiyan.

“She’s been so terribly bullied—you’re not going to comfort her? Or is it just fashionable these days to play the fool and chase after women who already have boyfriends?” She said whatever came to mind, hoping to disgust them all equally.

Leng Heming responded with another cold snort. It seemed his favorite word in this life was “hmph.” If he didn’t use his straight nose to issue a few nasal grunts each day, how could he prove himself as aloof and cool? Careful, too many of those and he’d end up with chronic rhinitis!

Finding a window, Xi Ning let the wind cool her head.

But her heart was still stifled. No wonder her mission required her to bully An Xiyan. She hadn’t even tasted the lamb, yet she’d already been tainted by its stench. If that was how things were, she might as well go all out—she would bully her for real, otherwise the injustice would choke her.

When the bell rang for class, Xi Ning returned to the classroom. Only then did Wang Zilong leave, and deliberately bumped into her as she entered, slamming her against the doorframe despite her attempt to dodge. There was a sharp crack, and pain shot through her shoulder.

Damn it, what was this nonsense!

The pain made Xi Ning’s vision blur, but she didn’t dare collapse. The original owner had once fallen in just this way. An Xiyan had rushed over, seemingly full of concern, only to step hard on her hand, compounding her agony.

When An Xiyan realized she’d stepped on her hand, she burst into tears, and everyone forgave her, convinced it was unintentional. The protagonist’s halo was simply too powerful—everyone was selectively blind.

“Qingyu!” Sure enough, An Xiyan came running.

She mustn’t fall! Xi Ning forced herself upright. Otherwise, her hand would be red and swollen for a week.

“Get lost!” Xi Ning couldn’t hold it in any longer and spat out the word, bracing herself against the wall with her other arm.

“Qingyu!” Again, tears welled up in An Xiyan’s eyes as she stood by, looking utterly aggrieved and innocent.

The English teacher arrived and took in the scene. “What happened?”

Xi Ning clutched her injured shoulder, which had already collapsed inward. Judging from the previous plot and her current state, it was likely dislocated. She gritted her teeth. “I fell by accident. I need to go to the infirmary.”

Seeing her pale face and the cold sweat beading on her forehead, the teacher said, “Then let An Xiyan take you.”

Damn it, did they want her dead? If An Xiyan took her, who knew what would happen on the way.

Xi Ning shook her head. “No need. An Xiyan struggles with English and shouldn’t miss class. I’ll manage on my own.”

Here, the entire English lesson was conducted in English. Future business elites, wealthy heirs, and heiresses were expected to operate internationally, so fluency was essential.

Students who’d been taught English from childhood, who had traveled abroad often, whose families ran companies overseas—none of them had any problem. But An Xiyan, with no resources and no money for outside tutoring, was always at the bottom of the class in English.

The English teacher nodded in agreement. After all, student grades affected every teacher’s evaluation. “Then go by yourself. Be careful. An Xiyan, return to your seat—class is starting.”

Xi Ning glanced at An Xiyan, who burst into fresh tears upon hearing her English was poor. Xi Ning turned and left, hoping the teacher would call on her more during class—her grades needed improvement, and she could use the extra attention.