Rong Ruxue stepped forward with a sweet, saccharine smile that could melt honey. Her voice rang out like a chime, gentle and melodic.
"Hello, everyone. It's a pleasure to meet you all. I'm Rong Ruxue—please take care of me from now on," she said, her tone warm and impossibly charming.
The classroom seemed to hold its breath for a moment. Her presence was dazzling; the boys were dumbfounded, and even the girls couldn't help but stare. Rong Ruxue wasn't only strikingly beautiful, but rumors already hinted she was brilliant as well. After all, who could join the prestigious Rocket Class in the middle of the term unless they had exceptional grades?
On top of that, her outfit—an elegant Chanel dress paired with a designer bag—quietly screamed wealth, yet her smile made her seem approachable.
However, one person wasn't charmed. Gong Xinyue's eyes widened ever so slightly. Just last evening, she had overheard Rong Ruxue's disdainful remarks about this school. Back then, she acted as if she were too lofty even to acknowledge the place. But now? Her enthusiasm and sweetness were almost cloying.
Was she pretending yesterday? Gong Xinyue thought sharply. Or is this sugary attitude the real mask she wears? It was the only explanation for such a drastic change overnight.
Lu Mairong, standing by the podium, smiled faintly, her expression much warmer than the day she first introduced Li Ziqing.
"Rong Ruxue, welcome to Rocket Class. Please, find yourself a seat," she said smoothly.
As her gaze swept across the classroom, she noticed Gong Xinyue eagerly patting the chair beside her. "Ruxue, sit here!" Gong Xinyue called, already pulling out the chair next to her.
Lu Mairong's eyes then flickered to the secluded corner near the trash bin, where a single desk had been deliberately moved earlier, and Li Ziqing's privious seat? It was no longer empty—someone else had already taken it. A cold satisfaction curled in Lu Mairong's chest.
Good, she thought darkly. After this morning's humiliation, I won't let that girl off so easily. I'll make life difficult for her until she's forced to crawl out of Rocket Class in disgrace after the monthly exam.
Her vicious intent flashed briefly across her face before she smoothed it away.
"The first lecture will begin in ten minutes," she announced crisply. "Use the time to settle in."
Below the podium, Rong Ruxue had already slipped gracefully into the seat beside Gong Xinyue. A small circle of students immediately formed around her, their faces lit with enthusiasm. The two most excitable among them were Fan Yuelin and Meng Qianyi.
Meng Qianyi leaned forward eagerly. "Hi, Rong Ruxue! I'm Meng Qianyi. Let's be friends!"
"And I'm Fan Yuelin," the other girl added quickly. "Welcome to our class!"
Rong Ruxue placed her hands neatly on the desk and tilted her head, her smile flawlessly warm. "Of course. I'd love that. In fact," she added lightly, "how about I treat you all to lunch today? It'll give us a chance to get to know each other better."
The two girls squealed with delight. "Really? Yes, yes! We'd love that!"
Their excitement spilled over into a flurry of questions:
"Rong Ruxue, did you transfer here from Beijing?"
"What kind of business does your family run?"
"Where did you get that Chanel dress? It's gorgeous—it looks like it was made for you!"
"You're so stunning! Honestly, you might be the most beautiful girl in our class!"
"No, not just the class," Meng Qianyi corrected dramatically. "The whole campus! The next campus belle is definitely you!"
Rong Ruxue's fingers twitched under the desk. The incessant chatter was starting to grate on her nerves, but outwardly, her expression remained poised and serene. Their last comment, however, sent a secret thrill coursing through her.
Still, she tilted her head with an air of modesty, playing her part to perfection. "You're exaggerating," she demurred softly, lowering her lashes. "I'm sure there are plenty of girls more beautiful than me. A title like that… well, one shouldn't be too quick to claim it."
The modest denial only made the girls gush louder.
Across them, Gong Xinyue frowned. She didn't particularly like Li Ziqing, but she wasn't delusional either. Campus belle? Were Meng Qianyi and Fan Yuelin out of their minds? Everyone knew Li Ziqing's beauty was unmatched—flawless in a way that left no room for comparison. To call Rong Ruxue the most beautiful girl in school was practically slapping their own faces.
The class was still buzzing with admiration for Rong Ruxue. Laughter and whispers mingled in the air but Lu Mairong was didn't disturb students today and let time be, her eyes were fixed on the door, as she was waiting for Li Ziqing. She was now getting eager to see Li Ziqing's face when she sits besides the trash can, and her wait didn't last long.
Rong Ruxue Sitting gracefully, lips curved into the practiced, demure smile she had perfected over years of etiquette training. Her gaze lowered ever so slightly, as if embarrassed by the attention, while her heart swelled with pride.
She had always been the center of attention—how could she not? She was a daughter of Beijing's elite family, trained to glide through any room like she owned it. Her new classmates' admiration felt like the natural order of things. This is where I belong, she thought, soaking in the awe on their faces. Even here, far from Beijing, I'll reign as the school belle, she thought.
But then suddenly the classroom door creaked again.
At first, Rong Ruxue didn't bother to look—surely it was just another late student. But the sudden stillness in the classroom was impossible to ignore. The cheerful buzz that had surrounded her only a moment ago evaporated, leaving behind a silence so sharp it pressed against her ears. Even the sound of breathing seemed to falter, as if the entire room were holding its breath.
Her lashes lifted almost lazily—then froze.
Her breath caught. Her eyes widened, pupils trembling as though they could not fully take in what they were seeing. For one terrifying moment, Rong Ruxue almost thought her vision had betrayed her. A girl had stepped into the classroom, but the sight was so startling, so utterly breathtaking, that it felt like an illusion.
The girl's presence was quiet, but the air around her bent differently, as though she carried her own light. Each step was unhurried, yet impossibly graceful, like ripples unfurling over still water. The morning sun streamed through the window, catching against her delicate face, outlining features so refined it seemed no brush could paint them—skin pale as jade, eyes calm and luminous, lips lightly tinted like the softest dawn.
The plain white top swayed against slender figure, fabric simple yet impossibly elegant upon her frame. Even a stray lock of hair, lifted by the faint corridor breeze, seemed deliberate, an ink stroke completing a masterpiece.
Rong Ruxue's body went rigid. Her throat felt dry, her heart pounding painfully in her chest. This… this isn't possible.
When she herself had entered earlier, the class had smiled, clapped politely, whispered about her wealth and her beauty. She had basked in that glow, reassured by their admiration. But this—this was different.
No gasps, no chatter. Just silence. A silence heavy with awe, as though everyone had forgotten how to speak.
Her fingers twitched against her skirt. Why aren't they looking at me anymore? Why does it feel like the air itself has shifted?
Then the whispers began.
"Why does she look so confident and graceful today?" a boy murmured, eyes wide.
Another voice added breathlessly, "Exactly… I also feel something different. Her aura—it's like she's… untouchable."
A girl in the front row whispered, "Her face—it's even more beautiful than before…"
Each word struck Rong Ruxue like a slap. Her stomach churned. Even more beautiful than before? So they've noticed her all along? And now… now they dare compare?
Fan Yuelin, who had been praising Rong Ruxue moments earlier, suddenly blurted, unable to contain himself, "Wait… isn't she kicked out of the Rocket Class? Why is she here?"
Meng Qianyi's brows knitted, her tone sharp with resentment as she sneered, "Probably came to collect her things. Hmph." She shot the Li Ziqing a glare, but it carried more unease than disdain, because although she said that, seeing how Li Ziqing was carrying the set of new books fresh out of store, it didn't seem like she was kicked off, so what exactly happened after principal Bao came?
Another student whispered, confused, "Kicked out? Why? What happened?"
"Don't you know?" someone muttered knowingly. "That incident, at the end of last semester—when she was proposed to."
"Oh… that." A boy's tone softened with regret. "But what was her fault? With her kind of beauty, anyone would fall for her. It's natural."
"Exactly," another sighed wistfully. "She's like the morning dew on a spring flower… fresh, untouchable. A pity she's being forced out. Such a pity…"
Rong Ruxue's breath hitched. Each murmur scraped against her pride like a blade. Pity? Admiration? For her?
Li Ziqing didn't hear a word of the hushed whispers around her—nor would she have cared even if she had. The moment she stepped into the classroom, she felt dozens of eyes pierce through her, some filled with curiosity, others with disdain. She kept her expression calm, almost indifferent, as she made her way toward her usual row.
But then she stopped short.
Her desk—the one she had sat at since the beginning of the term—was already occupied. A girl sat there comfortably, her bag sprawled across the table as if the seat had always belonged to her.
Li Ziqing's gaze slowly shifted toward the podium. Lu Mairong was waiting there, a faint, mocking curl at the corner of her lips. Ziqing stood still, neither speaking nor moving, silently waiting for the teacher to address her.
Lu Mairong didn't disappoint.
"Li Ziqing," she said with a falsely sweet smile, her voice carrying an edge of contempt. "All the seats are already taken. You'll have to sit in the back corner for now. After the monthly exams, the class will be reshuffled based on scores, and you'll be assigned a proper seat then."
Inwardly, she sneered. And perhaps in another class entirely.
Ziqing's brows furrowed as she followed the direction of Lu Mairong's pointed finger. Her new "seat" was shoved against the wall near the trash can—an isolated corner where no desk had ever been placed before.
It was deliberate. A trap, plain and simple.
When her eyes returned to Lu Mairong's, the teacher's smug expression said it all. Ziqing sighed inwardly. She had never expected any better from this woman.
Lu Mairong had always been a greedy sycophant, bowing and scraping before the wealthy parents who showered her with expensive gifts while looking down on students like Ziqing. Back then, Ziqing's mother couldn't afford lavish offerings; now, even with more money than she knew what to do with, Ziqing had no intention of flaunting it—let alone bribing someone like Lu Mairong.
She gave the teacher one last, faintly disappointed glance, then turned and walked toward the back without a word.
Lu Mairong froze, her smirk faltering. She had been waiting—anticipating an outburst, a tearful protest, anything that would let her savor the girl's humiliation. But Ziqing's calm nod and quiet compliance blindsided her.
Her jaw tightened, and her voice rose sharply to cover her own frustration. "Class, open your books. We'll begin with the first topic of the day."
Down below, the students weren't listening. Their attention followed Ziqing as she walked to the back corner and quietly sat down at the solitary desk. The whispers began almost immediately.
"Is she really sitting near the trash can?" someone murmured in disbelief.
"I wondered why they added that extra desk," another student said. "Turns out it's for her."
"But wasn't she supposed to be expelled? Why is Teacher Lu letting her stay?" Fan Yuelin whispered, leaning toward Meng Qianyi.
Meng Qianyi's lips curled into a cold sneer. "Who knows what trick that girl pulled? Don't forget how furious that couple was this morning. There's no way they'd just let her off. She must have done something underhanded."
A low chuckle came from the back row. "Say what you want, but you can't deny she's easy on the eyes. Even sitting next to the trash can, she's still beautiful."
Heads turned. Meng Qianyi stiffened. "Pan Mingzhe!" she snapped, whipping around to glare at him. "Have you no shame? Did you forget she rejected you last year? And you still dare say you're glad she's in our class?"
Pan Mingzhe leaned back leisurely in his chair, arms folded behind his head. A lazy grin tugged at his lips as his gaze followed Li Ziqing, who was silently making her way toward the lonely desk by the trash bin.
"Well, I'm just not complaining like you," he drawled, loud enough for the back rows to hear. "Even if she got kicked to the corner, the view's still nice. Reject me or not, a pretty face is still a pretty face."
A collective gasp rippled through the room. Drama was brewing, and everyone knew it. But Pan Mingzhe remained unruffled. His grin widened, his posture oozing confidence, as if Meng Qianyi's outrage only amused him further.
"Pan Mingzhe, don't be shameless. We're in class," Gong Xinyue interjected, trying—at least on the surface—to douse the flames.
"Shame?" Mingzhe quirked a brow, spreading his hands innocently. "Can you eat it? I'm just telling the truth. You can hate her all you want, but you can't deny she's easy on the eyes."
A ripple of laughter broke out, louder this time. Someone muttered under their breath, He's not wrong.
Meng Qianyi's face flushed scarlet—half from fury, half from the humiliation of being laughed at. "Pathetic," she hissed, whipping back around with a huff. Her nails scraped against the wooden desk as she muttered, "Flirts with anything in a skirt and thinks he's charming. Disgusting."
Pan Mingzhe chuckled, propping his chin on his palm, voice dropping just enough for his friends to hear. "What can I say? I appreciate beauty. And between you and Li Ziqing, only one of you qualifies."
Then, with a casual glance toward Rong Ruxue, he added lightly, "My standards are just too high. Until someone more dazzling than Li Ziqing shows up in this class, she'll remain the most beautiful here."
The words were spoken with a drawl, casual as if he were stating the weather. Yet everyone caught the meaning. It was a slap in the face to Meng Qianyi and Fan Yuelin, who had been shamelessly calling Rong Ruxue the most beautiful girl in school just minutes earlier—a level of bootlicking Mingzhe found ridiculous.
Rong Ruxue's face turned a deep crimson. She understood the barb behind his words immediately, and the sting burned.
"Shut up, Mingzhe," one of the boys beside him muttered when he saw the storm brewing in the three girls' faces.
Gong Xinyue, though feigning annoyance at Mingzhe's antics, couldn't hide her amusement when she caught the look on Rong Ruxue's face. Clearing her throat, she remarked casually, "That's Li Ziqing for you. She's the school belle right now. Honestly, I don't think even she realizes it."
Meng Qianyi jumped at the chance to retort. "How would she know? She doesn't even own a phone. She's not registered on Renren either. Too poor to afford even a basic handset, let alone a fruit-brand smartphone." Her sneer was sharp enough to cut.
Fan Yuelin chimed in hotly, "Pan Mingzhe is just another boy drooling over a pretty face. Rong Ruxue, you don't need to pay him any mind. So what if Li Ziqing is a little prettier than you? She's from the slums, no proper upbringing. She probably can't even afford the shoes you're wearing. And her grades? She's not even in the top twenty."
"Exactly!" Meng Qianyi seized on her friend's words. "A true school belle shouldn't just be pretty—she should be outstanding in every way, both academically and socially. You, Ruxue, are the ideal school belle."
"We'll talk to the unofficial forum admin and have them rerun the school belle poll," Fan Yuelin added determinedly.
But with every word spoken in her defense, Rong Ruxue's rage only deepened. Beneath her desk, her nails dug crescent moons into her palms. The polite smile on her lips trembled under the weight of her fury. How dare they look at me like that? How dare they even compare me to that girl from the slums?
She was the heiress of the Rong family in Beijing. Li Ziqing was just a bumpkin.
Her resentment for Pan Mingzhe—and for those boys exchanging mocking glances—swelled with each passing second. Yet even as the anger churned inside her, she forced her lips into an even sweeter smile. The honeyed mask slid back into place, perfect and practiced. Only her eyes betrayed her, glinting with something sharp and dangerous.
So this is the one I must destroy.
The classroom gradually quieted when Lu Mairong cleared her throat sharply at the podium. "Enough chatter," she said with thinly veiled irritation. "If you have so much energy, I'll assign you extra homework. Now, open your books. First topic of the day."
Pages rustled as the lecture began, but an undercurrent of whispers and sidelong glances still lingered.
Rong Ruxue slowly turned her head toward the back corner. Li Ziqing sat there, serene, her posture composed as if none of the mockery or gossip could touch her. Her calmness grated on Ruxue like sandpaper.
How can she sit there like that? Ruxue seethed silently. As if nothing can disturb her?
Li Ziqing hadn't said a word since entering. She hadn't glanced back, hadn't reacted to the commotion her presence caused. And somehow, that unshaken composure only poured oil into the fire burning inside Rong Ruxue.
Her gaze sharpened, almost venomous, as she watched the girl in the corner. Enjoy your peace while you can, Li Ziqing, she thought darkly. I'll shatter it soon enough.