Lu Mairong's eyes lit up the moment she heard Rong Ruxue's name. Ever since leaving the Academic Director's office, she had been loitering in the staffroom, deliberately waiting for the new student's arrival.
She already knew from the principal that the transfer student from Beijing was not only a top scorer but also hailed from an affluent family. Yet, when she finally laid eyes on Rong Ruxue, even she hadn't anticipated just how dazzlingly wealthy the girl would appear in person.
From head to toe, the young lady was draped in luxury worth at least two million yuan. She must be the richest student in the entire grade, Lu Mairong thought inwardly, her gaze involuntarily lingering on the girl's diamond-studded earrings and the limited-edition handbag dangling from her wrist.
Outwardly, however, her face bloomed with a saccharine smile. "Ah, so you've finally arrived, Rong Ruxue? I'm your homeroom teacher. Based on your previous grades, you've been assigned to the Rocket Class. Come, let me take you there."
Rong Ruxue's bright eyes swept over Lu Mairong. The moment she caught the teacher's barely concealed ogling, a faint trace of disdain flickered in her heart. Still, her lips curved into a gentle, harmless smile as she replied politely, "Thank you, Teacher Lu. It's an honor to be a part of your class."
Lu Mairong's voice dripped with enthusiasm as she led the way. "How sweet of you. I know our school may not compare to the prestigious institutions in Beijing, but I assure you, the quality of education here is by no means inferior."
With that, the two stepped out, heading towards the classroom.
The moment the door closed behind them, the staffroom erupted into hushed murmurs of envy.
"Did you see how Lu Mairong was buttering her up?" one teacher whispered.
"Who wouldn't? Did you notice the brands she was wearing? That handbag alone costs more than a year's salary."
"Ugh, why can't there be one more rich person in this world? Preferably me?" another teacher muttered bitterly.
"Keep dreaming," someone snickered. "With a student like her, Lu Mairong's luck has hit the jackpot."
"It's not just her. The homeroom teacher of the final-year Rocket Class is going to be even luckier."
A few heads turned curiously. "What do you mean?"
"You haven't heard? He's also getting a transfer student today—a boy from Beijing. They say he's a prodigy, just like that Li Zeyan last year."
Gasps rippled through the room.
"I heard he topped the inter-school joint sophomore exams organized by the Beijing Education Bureau. That exam is notoriously difficult."
"Exactly. And last year, he represented China in the International Mathematics Olympiad for students under fifteen and brought home a gold medal."
The room buzzed with astonishment.
"So this year, we have two students from Beijing? Do they know each other?"
"Who knows? But one thing's for sure—the final-year Rocket Class is on fire. Last year, Li Zeyan made his homeroom teacher a star. Now, with this new boy, our school might produce a provincial topper for two consecutive years."
Their hushed voices rose with excitement, the staffroom swelling with chatter and speculation.
Outside the school gates, another car had just arrived.
A sleek, low-key black Audi A6 purred to a stop. The door opened, and a tall figure stepped out with an air of effortless nobility.
Shen Zeyan had arrived.
He was dressed with understated elegance—a custom-tailored white T-shirt that subtly hinted at his lean, athletic build, paired with perfectly cut black trousers and pristine white sneakers. Though simple at first glance, anyone with an eye for detail could recognize the craftsmanship; every piece he wore was custom-made, its luxury hidden in its subtlety.
The early morning sun caught on his features, and for a moment, it felt as though time itself stilled. His face bore the kind of beauty that seemed almost unworldly—razor-sharp jawline, finely sculpted nose, and deep, obsidian eyes that held a cold, detached indifference. His presence was both magnetic and untouchable, like an immortal who had accidentally descended into the mortal realm.
Even from a distance, there was a chill in his aura, a natural aloofness that kept people at bay. Yet, it was precisely this coldness that made him impossible to ignore.
Shen Zeyan's cold gaze swept over the silent campus, his sharp eyes reflecting the pale morning light. For a fleeting moment, the frost on his expression eased, though his face remained impassive and unreadable.
From the driver's side, Gao Shun stepped out, his posture instinctively respectful. "Young Master," he greeted softly.
Shen Zeyan turned slightly toward him, his voice low and unhurried. "Make sure my identity stays hidden. I don't want another choas here like the one in Beijing."
Gao Shun inclined his head solemnly. "Rest assured, Young Master. You can focus on your studies and work without worry. Stay with Master Gu comfortably. I'll remain in Wuhan to handle everything quietly. If you need me, call anytime."
"Good," Shen Zeyan replied with a faint nod. "From now on, you don't need to pick me up or drop me off. Just arrange a chauffeur when necessary."
"Yes, Young Master," Gao Shun said firmly.
Without another word, Shen Zeyan turned and strode toward the school gates. The security guard, who had been half-distracted until now, found himself staring. The boy's cold, distant eyes sent an involuntary shiver down his spine, while his aloof presence carried an inexplicable weight.
Nearby, a few students who still lingered around the courtyard froze mid-step. Conversations faltered; even the air seemed to thin as the tall figure passed by.
"Who is that? Is he… new?" someone whispered.
"My god, he's so handsome… no, handsome isn't enough," another breathed, as if speaking too loudly might break the spell.
"Why does he feel so… untouchable? Like he's not even from this world…"
"Oh my god, I can't stop myself anymore. I have to take a picture of him and post it on Renren," a girl muttered, clutching her phone like a lifeline.
She stood on the second-floor corridor, perfectly positioned with a full view of Shen Zeyan. Despite the grainy quality of 2006s phone cameras, his beauty seemed to defy the era. Even through the poor resolution, his cold, distant profile carried a divine sharpness. Without hesitation, she snapped a picture and posted it on the Wuhan No. 1 Middle School Renren forum, even creating a dedicated thread.
At first, the post garnered little attention. A few students, whether still at home or secretly scrolling on their phones in class, ignored it—assuming it was just another random shot. But within minutes, the thread detonated.
The girls who saw the picture could barely breathe. The boys who saw it felt an odd mix of admiration and intimidation. The comment section exploded:
"Who is he? Is he in our school?"
"Why have I never seen him before? If I had, I'd never forget."
"What's wrong with my heart? It's beating out of control."
"Guys… is this what it feels like to fall in love at first sight?"
Another comment popped up, "Attention! I just saw him entering the Final Year wing!"
"What? Final Year? Is he lost? I'll skip class and guide him personally."
"He's my moonlight…so handsome so divine."
"Guys! He just walked into the Final Year Rocket Class. The homeroom teacher announced he's the new transfer student!"
Shock rippled through the forum.
"Rocket Class? That means he's not just good-looking, he's a genius too?"
"What a lethal combination. Handsome + smart. Perfect. My type."
"Does anyone know his name?"
Minutes later, someone replied: "He just introduced himself. His name is Shen Zeyan."
The thread spiraled into chaos. Girls began changing their profile names—"Shen Zeyan's Wife," "Shen Zeyan's Moonlight," "Shen Zeyan is My Husband," "Shen Zeyan's Humble Maid."
Another discussion began trending alongside it:
"Do you think Zhu Jinyan's title as campus heartthrob is in danger?"
"Pity him. Last year Li Zeyan took his crown, and now this? Another boy, even more striking."
By lunchtime, both threads had exploded. Tens of thousands of comments poured in. In the span of a few hours, Shen Zeyan—who had quietly walked into the campus—became the most talked-about name in school.
But that was the story for later.
Right now, inside the Final Year Rocket Class, the atmosphere felt suffocating. The moment Shen Zeyan stepped inside, his aura descended over the room like frost. His cold presence was difficult to ignore; even the homeroom teacher found her palms slightly clammy, unsure how to address the boy without faltering.
The students dared not whisper. The air was thick with unspoken tension, as though the entire class instinctively sensed they were in the presence of someone extraordinary—someone untouchable.
And Shen Zeyan? He simply stood there, composed and aloof, unaware of the chatter outside, the frenzy online, and the storm his existence stirred.
The homeroom teacher, already nervous in his presence, swallowed hard before speaking.
"Th-this is our new classmate," he stammered, visibly flustered. "Please… introduce yourself."
Shen Zeyan inclined his head slightly, his voice steady and rich with a quiet authority that instantly drew attention.
"Shen Zeyan," he said simply. "Zeyan means 'clear and tranquil.'"
Nothing more, nothing less. Yet his concise introduction carried a weight that made the room seem even quieter, as though his very presence commanded silence.
"Ah… very good," the homeroom teacher muttered, pushing his glasses nervously up the bridge of his nose. "Class, let's give him a warm welcome. Clap your hands!"
A round of applause followed, hesitant at first, then swelling with enthusiasm. Despite the suffocating stillness in the air, the excitement—especially among the girls—was palpable. No one dared speak, but the glow in their eyes betrayed their thoughts. They were captivated, almost breathless, taking in the sculpted features and aloof demeanor of the boy who had just transferred into their midst.
The teacher cleared his throat, trying to regain control of the room. "Shen Zeyan, you can… um, you can take any empty seat"
"Understood," Shen Zeyan replied simply, giving a polite nod.
He walked unhurriedly to the empty seat at the back. Last row, right corner. his steps measured and steady, the faint scent of cold cedar lingering in his wake. The desk beside his was empty; no one ever sat there. For reasons unspoken, it had remained untouched since the beginning of the term. The homeroom teacher looked as though he wanted to say something, hesitated, then sighed softly and turned back to the blackboard.
As the lecture resumed, something unusual happened—something that had never occurred in the Rocket Class before. For the first time, the girls weren't focused on their notes. Instead, their gazes drifted—furtively, in stolen glances—to the back corner of the room. Their pens moved, but their minds weren't on the equations or formulas. Their thoughts lingered on the new boy with the cool, restrained aura and the name that carried a quiet elegance.
The atmosphere in the classroom was silent yet electrified, like the charged air before a storm. But the atmosphere in Rocket class of sophomore year was in stark contrast of final year rocket class.
"Did you see Li Ziqing getting kicked out with your own eyes?" A girl with a high ponytail leaned closer, her eyes glinting with excitement.
Meng Qianyi let out a cold sneer. "I'm not sure. We had to scatter the moment Principal Bao arrived; otherwise, I would have enjoyed watching the entire scene unfold." Her voice dripped with venom, and her eyes betrayed the grudge festering inside her since that morning's humiliation. She still couldn't comprehend Li Ziqing's sudden change—her eloquence, her unshakable calm. It made Meng Qianyi's teeth ache with hatred. She wished she could tear that serene face apart with her bare hands.
Taking a slow, steadying breath, she consoled herself with the thought that Li Ziqing's downfall was inevitable. A hint of a cruel smile tugged at her lips. "But I'm certain she'll be kicked out of class today. No one can change that fact."
The girl in the ponytail squealed, unable to contain her glee. "I can't believe we'll finally get rid of that vixen! Though… it's such a pity she isn't being expelled from school entirely," she added, her tone dropping into disappointment. Suddenly, she turned to face the girl sitting at the front bench. "Gong Xinyue, aren't you happy too? Why are you so quiet?"
If there was anyone in the Rocket Class who despised Li Ziqing the most, it was Gong Xinyue. Her hatred bordered on madness. Back in their first year, Gong Xinyue had enjoyed her fleeting reign as the class belle. Boys admired her; girls envied her. She was basking in her moment of glory—until the Li siblings transferred in.
From the very first day, Li Ziqing's beauty eclipsed hers entirely. She wasn't just pretty—she was ethereal. The stark contrast had made Gong Xinyue's heart twist with envy. Later, when she discovered that Li Ziqing hailed from the Northern District—the city's poor quarter—her resentment deepened into bitter loathing. Since then, she had left no opportunity untaken to target Li Ziqing.
But today, despite Meng Qianyi's smug announcement, Gong Xinyue didn't react. Her gaze was distant, lost in thought.
Her mind replayed Rong Ruxue's haughty expression from the day before, along with that condescending remark about their "provincial school." The insult had stung, and for the first time, Gong Xinyue felt Li Ziqing's absence might actually be inconvenient. How satisfying would it have been to watch Rong Ruxue meet Li Ziqing face-to-face? To see Rong Ruxue's perfect façade crack in shock at the sight of her?
But that didn't mean Gong Xinyue had softened toward Li Ziqing. She still despised that vixen to her core. However, with Li Ziqing already as good as gone, Gong Xinyue reminded herself to focus on her parents' instructions—to make Rong Ruxue comfortable and establish a good relationship with her.
Seeing Gong Xinyue uncharacteristically quiet, Meng Qianyi mistook it for being too overjoyed to speak.
Fan Yuelin, sitting nearby, pouted. "But Gong Xinyue, why did you make me sit with Meng Qianyi today? Haven't we been desk mates since the first year?"
Gong Xinyue turned casually, her tone calm and deliberate. "Fan Yuelin, we're getting a new student today. She's the daughter of a family friend. I want her to sit with me." Her lips curled into a faint, knowing smile as she added, "Both of you should make an effort to get along with her. Don't upset her."
Fan Yuelin and Meng Qianyi nodded immediately. How could they dare refuse? Their parents' businesses relied heavily on maintaining ties with the Gong family, and they had been explicitly told to follow Gong Xinyue's lead. Besides, their curiosity about the new student was already piqued.
"But… why did they add another desk at the back?" Fan Yuelin asked after a moment, her brows furrowing. "Isn't the Rocket Class capped at forty students? And with Li Ziqing gone, there should be an open seat already."
Gong Xinyue had anticipated this question. Earlier that morning, after hearing the news of Li Ziqing's impending humiliation, she'd immediately instructed Meng Qianyi's former deskmate to move into Li Ziqing's old seat. She'd then shifted Fan Yuelin beside Meng Qianyi, leaving her own seat free for Rong Ruxue. Everything had been planned to perfection.
But even she had been puzzled when an extra desk was hauled in just minutes ago. And not just its addition—the placement was baffling. It sat in the far back corner of the classroom, with the trash bin barely two feet away.
"Maybe they just had an extra desk lying around from another class," Gong Xinyue replied nonchalantly, though her mind was racing. "Otherwise, how do you explain the location? Who would want to sit beside the dustbin?"
Both Fan Yuelin and Meng Qianyi nodded in agreement, dismissing the oddity with a shrug. They were about to continue their gossip when the classroom door swung open, cutting their chatter short.
Lu Mairong entered with a saccharine smile that stretched almost to her ears.
The moment Lu Mairong stepped into the classroom, the buzzing chatter instantly died down. With an air of quiet authority, she gave a small nod to the students.
"Class," she began, her voice calm yet commanding, "today marks the first day of your second year. I'd like to officially welcome you all back to school. As before, I'll continue to serve as your homeroom teacher. This year will be even more challenging, but as the elite Rocket Class, I trust each of you to rise above expectations and set an example for the entire grade."
A ripple of pride stirred among the students at her words. The Rocket Class—synonymous with excellence—had always been the pride of the school.
Lu Mairong paused briefly, her gaze sweeping across the room before continuing, "And today, we have a new addition to our class. A transfer student from Beijing—an exceptional talent with outstanding academic records. Please give her a warm welcome."
Excitement crackled through the room like static. The students exchanged curious looks, whispering under their breath as they turned their attention eagerly toward the door.
Outside, Rong Ruxue smoothed the hem of her designer dress, drawing in a steady breath. With a poised smile curving her lips, she stepped into the classroom.
For a heartbeat, the class fell into stunned silence. Her arrival was like watching the God of Wealth descend into their midst. Even those indifferent to fashion could recognize luxury when they saw it, and Rong Ruxue was wrapped in it from head to toe. Every piece she wore bore the signature of high-end brands. Her beauty, while not breathtaking in a traditional sense, was elevated by the aura of her attire.
The classroom buzzed back to life almost immediately.
"Wow… is that Chanel? And her bag—Hermès, isn't it?" someone whispered, awestruck.
"Did you see her shoes? Those are this season's limited edition! How can a high schooler afford that?"
"She looks like she's walking into a gala, not a classroom."
Meng Qianyi's eyes sparkled as she leaned closer to Gong Xinyue and whispered, barely containing her excitement. "Xinyue, is she the family friend's daughter you were talking about?"
Fan Yuelin, seated nearby, added in disbelief, "Just how rich is she? Her outfit today alone must cost at least two million yuan—and she's wearing it casually to school."
On the other side, Gong Xinyue's lips curved into a practiced smile. Even she hadn't expected Rong Ruxue to arrive like she was attending an evening banquet. The sight pricked at her nerves, but she quickly masked her irritation, her tone cool yet respectful.
"Yes," she confirmed, "she's the one—Rong Ruxue. I'd advise you not to cross her. She's from Beijing, and her family is… extremely wealthy."
Both Meng Qianyi and Fan Yuelin gasped, their eyes widening as they exchanged meaningful glances. They nodded in unison, silently acknowledging the unspoken hierarchy that had just been established in the room.
___
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