The earlier commotion had long subsided. The first Chinese class of the day had already begun under Lu Mairong's lecture, yet Li Ziqing, seated in the far back corner near the trash bin, didn't so much as lift her head from the book in her hands.
In truth, she hadn't fully grasped what all the fuss had been about in the first place. Lu Mairong had deliberately arranged her seat in that secluded spot by the trash can, but it hardly bothered her. She had no friends in this class—nor any desire to make any—so being isolated was no insult. As for the trash bin? It was tightly sealed, and she sat at a perfectly respectable distance. To her, there was nothing shameful about it.
But she had no intention of explaining herself to anyone. Not now, not ever. She had no fondness for these classmates—neither in her previous life nor this one. These people were nothing more than fleeting passersby in the grand story of her life. The only time she would bother with them was the day they came at her directly.
For now, she had something far more important to focus on: exploring her newfound ability—her photographic memory. And to her astonishment, it worked with extraordinary precision.
Her eyes shimmered with an almost childlike delight as they swept across the page. She could read five lines at a time, and once her gaze passed over them, the words etched themselves into her mind with perfect clarity.
She flipped a page every minute, her slender fingers moving with rhythmic grace. To anyone watching, it might seem as though she were merely skimming through the book out of boredom. Only Li Ziqing knew that, by the end of this single class, the entire second-year Chinese textbook would be engraved in her mind.
When the final page turned and she softly closed the book, her lips curled ever so slightly in satisfaction. Yet her excitement dimmed almost instantly as she opened her system's attribute panel in her mind.
Not a single point had changed.
Her delicate brows knitted into a frown. "System, I've already memorized the entire second-year Chinese textbook. Why hasn't my attribute increased? Shouldn't there be at least some improvement?" she demanded inwardly.
A familiar, mechanical chime rang out in her mind.
[Ding… Host, knowledge is like a vast ocean—boundless and unending. Simply memorizing academic textbooks is far from sufficient. The system does not reward mere recitation. Continue expanding your horizons.]
"Continue expanding…?" Li Ziqing's frown deepened. The system's cryptic words were as frustrating as ever. What exactly did it want from her? In its earlier version, at least there had been simple daily tasks to guide her. Now, she was left fumbling in the dark, pressured to discover her own path.
She exhaled slowly, pushing down the swell of unease. Fine. If the system expected more, she would find a way.
Her fingers drifted toward her English textbook, intent on testing her ability on another subject, when the phone hidden in her pocket buzzed softly. She glanced toward the podium; Lu Mairong was still lecturing, oblivious. Moving with practiced discretion, she retrieved the phone and unlocked it.
A single message flashed on the screen—sent by Zhou Yichen.
'Miss Li, I've arranged a dinner meeting at Qingyan Pavilion with the investors interested in your resort project. The address and time have been shared with them. Be ready at 7 p.m.'
Li Ziqing's eyes widened ever so slightly, a flicker of surprise breaking through her calm facade. He already found investors? It hadn't even been three hours since she had entrusted him with her vision—a luxury resort, meticulously designed with the help of the Royal Aide Coupon gifted by the system. She had sent him the blueprints and strategic plan, but she never expected him to secure potential backers in mere hours.
Her lips curved faintly as she typed her reply:
'Good. Reserve a private room on the third floor. I'll meet them directly—you don't need to pick me up.'
Sliding the phone back into her pocket, Li Ziqing allowed herself a small sigh. If only she had more subordinates as capable and efficient as Zhou Yichen. Unfortunately, talents like him were rare, and without the system's intervention, finding another was nearly impossible.
Her gaze lowered once again to her desk, but her mind lingered on the heavy pressure weighing upon her shoulders. The system had stopped handing her easy tasks. The path ahead, it seemed, would be hers alone to pave.
Thankfully entire day no one disturbed Li Ziqing. She had a normal day for once except for the drama in the morning. During the entire day Li Ziqing went through all the books and content from Second year middle school, starting from Chinese, English, Physics, Mathematics, History, Geography and Political science.
Thankfully, no one bothered Li Ziqing for the rest of the day. After the morning drama, the hours passed peacefully. She buried herself in her books, moving methodically through all the subjects for the second-year middle school curriculum—Chinese, English, Physics, Mathematics, History, Geography, and Political Science.
After lunch, she even revisited her first-year materials. It was then that she truly realized the power of her photographic memory. Though she had already passed those exams and thought herself familiar with the content, the difference now was staggering. With a single glance, every line etched itself into her mind as if carved into stone. By the time the final bell rang, she had absorbed nearly all the textbooks, yet when she checked her system panel, not a single attribute point had been added.
A trace of impatience flickered within her, but she knew there was no shortcut. If the system demanded her to figure out the method herself, then she would. Complaining wouldn't help.
As the sophomore classes ended at six, without evening study sessions like the graduating students had, Li Ziqing found it convenient. She packed her bag slowly, preparing to leave. Just as she stepped toward the door, a strange sensation pricked at her.
That feeling again.
She had sensed it all day—a gaze that wasn't merely curious, but sharp, almost vicious. It lingered like a needle at her entire day. Finally, she turned around.
Her eyes met a pair of glaring ones.
Li Ziqing frowned. She didn't recognize the girl. If her memories from her previous life were correct, this girl had never been in her class before. So why the overt hostility?
The girl stood out immediately, dressed head to toe in branded labels. Clothes that were meant to look elegant and refined instead seemed garish and overly mature to Li Ziqing, who had lived in the future and knew what true sophistication looked like.
Keeping her tone polite, Li Ziqing asked calmly, "Hello, is there something wrong?"
Rong Ruxue, who had been glaring at Li Ziqing moments ago, suddenly found herself at a loss for words. Her lips trembled slightly. "I… I…"
The truth was, she had been unsettled all day. Countless thoughts had plagued her, but one in particular gnawed at her heart—the striking, almost ethereal beauty of Li Ziqing. It was radiant, arresting, the kind of beauty that could not be ignored. A horrifying thought crept into her mind: What if I can't outshine her? What if Shen Zeyan's attention is drawn to this vixen instead of me?
It wasn't an impossible scenario. After all, Meng Qianyi had mentioned in passing that nearly every boy in the school harbored a crush on Li Ziqing. She wasn't just admired—she was practically worshipped. On the school forum, they called her a goddess.
During lunch, Rong Ruxue had been unable to resist her curiosity. She secretly created an account on Renren under a false name and browsed through the school's discussion threads. What she found left her dumbfounded.
The entire forum was ablaze with chatter about Shen Zeyan. She had overheard a few girls whispering earlier about a devastatingly handsome boy transferring into the final year, and she knew immediately they were referring to him. After all, who else could transfer directly into the final year and cause such a sensation? Still, she hadn't anticipated this.
His every move was being tracked—photographed and uploaded to the forum in real time. A new post appeared every minute, photos of him—walking through the halls, eating in the cafeteria, even sitting at his desk. The comments were a mix of awe and hysteria:
"Oh my god, he's so cold yet magnetic."
"Exactly, not a single student in the Rocket Class dared to approach him all day."
"I went to catch a glimpse during lunch, but there was already a huge crowd. I guess I'll have to survive on photos for now."
"Why is my phone screen wet?"
"I saw him in the canteen. Even the way he ate was elegant. Does he have any idea how tempting he looked?"
"I'm jealous of the Rocket Class girls. If I had a classmate like him, I'd never want to graduate."
Then one comment nearly made Rong Ruxue crush her phone.
"Breaking news! The Yao family heiress, Yao Yuyi, just announced she has a crush on Shen Zeyan!"
The replies only made her angrier:
"What? Yao Yuyi? This is bad. If she's interested, no one else will dare approach him now."
"She's even planning to confess in a few days. This is so depressing."
"I remember last year she was obsessed with our former school heartthrob, Li Zian. Even after he rejected her, she never let any girl get close to him."
"Exactly! Why does she always have her pick of the finest boys?"
"Because she's Yao Yuyi. Do you even know who the Yao family is? They're one of Wuhan's most powerful families. My dad said they've already expanded into Shanghai and are dominating the market there. We ordinary folks like can't compete."
Rong Ruxue's brows furrowed, her chest tightening with indignation. How dare these lowly people talk about her Shen Zeyan like that? And Yao Yuyi? The name itself left a bitter taste in her mouth.
A cold glint flashed in her eyes. "So, the Yao heiress thinks she can have him?" she muttered under her breath. "We'll see about that."
Exiting the forum thread with a flick of her fingers, Rong Ruxue quickly typed Li Ziqing's name into Renren's search bar. The page loaded—and she froze.
For a full five minutes, she sat motionless, stunned into silence.
The search results were overwhelming. There wasn't just one thread about Li Ziqing—there were hundreds. One particular thread dedicated solely to her had already surpassed six hundred pages, and the content was still loading.
Her breath caught when she scrolled.
Photos of Li Ziqing filled the screen: eating in the cafeteria, walking across the campus, sitting quietly outside a bookstore, even candid shots from beyond school grounds. Each image had hundreds, sometimes thousands, of likes. But what truly made Rong Ruxue's stomach twist were the comments—an endless flood of confessions, admiration, and yearning.
"Goddess Ziqing, marry me!"
"She doesn't even know I exist, but I'll cheer her on forever."
"Why is someone allowed to look this good while just drinking water?"
But to Rong Ruxue, there was something even more unsettling.
The Li Ziqing in those pictures looked… different. Shy. Reserved. Almost dull, hiding in the background as if afraid of attention. But the girl standing in front of her now was the complete opposite—confident, dazzling, almost blindingly radiant. The contrast was so stark it made Rong Ruxue's chest ache.
Then she scrolled further—and her pulse spiked.
Her eyes landed on a particular post, and an icy tremor shot down her spine. It was a photo collage: Li Ziqing and him. Shen Zeyan. Their candid pics Side by side.
Her fingers trembled as she clicked it open.
Beneath the image was a swarm of comments:
"Although Li Ziqing is my goddess, I have to admit… she looks perfect with this guy."
"Delete this, I don't want to see her with someone else! But… they really do look good together."
"Why am I not that guy? Life is unfair."
"Our goddess has rejected everyone so far, but what if she says yes if he confesses?"
"Just imagining it makes me want to punch my own plain face."
Each line was like a needle stabbing deeper into Rong Ruxue's chest. Her breathing grew uneven, her vision tunneling with every new comment.
The very scenario she dreaded the most—of Li Ziqing and Shen Zeyan together—was already being fantasized by the masses?
"No…" The word escaped her lips in a whisper, barely audible. Her hand tightened painfully around her phone. This can't happen. I won't let it happen.
But no matter how many times she repeated that in her head, the bitter fire in her chest only burned hotter.
Now, standing face-to-face with Li Ziqing, she found herself at a loss for words. Up close, the girl's beauty was even more breathtaking—her luminous skin, her poised demeanor, the effortless way she carried herself. It was enough to make Rong Ruxue's hands clench involuntarily.
Her lips parted, but no sound came out.
Li Ziqing tilted her head slightly, her clear eyes meeting hers. "Is there something you wanted to say?" she asked, her voice calm, almost detached, yet carrying a weight that made Rong Ruxue's throat tighten.
Even Rong Ruxue herself didn't understand what came over her. One moment she had been fine; the next, an uncontrollable tremor seized her body.
"Li Ziqing, what on earth are you doing?!"
A sharp voice rang out from behind.
Li Ziqing, who had been frowning at Rong Ruxue's strange reaction, turned at the sound. Striding toward them with an air of indignation was Gong Xinyue.
Although nearly a decade had passed, Li Ziqing could never forget that face. In her previous life, it was Gong Xinyue who orchestrated the scheme that ruined her, coldly plotting every step to drive her out of school. She remembered vividly how merciless she had been, manipulating her pawns—Fan Yuelin and Meng Qianyi—to do her bidding.
Li Ziqing's fists tightened at her sides, nails digging into her palms.
Gong Xinyue, oblivious to the storm behind Li Ziqing's calm façade, stepped protectively in front of Rong Ruxue like a mother hen shielding her chick. Her voice dripped with accusation.
"What do you want, Li Ziqing? What did you say to Ruxue to make her upset? It's only her first day, and you already have a problem with her?"
Meng Qianyi, still smoldering from the morning's events, seized the chance to lash out.
"What else could it be? She's jealous, obviously. Even if Li Ziqing sold herself, she wouldn't be able to afford a single piece of what Rong Ruxue is wearing today!"
Fan Yuelin sneered and added his share of venom.
"Li Ziqing, know your place. How dare you talk to someone like Ruxue so casually? She's the heiress of a prestigious Beijing family, while you… you're nothing but a slum rat."
Their words sliced through the classroom like knives.
Heads turned. Whispers rippled among the students, and in moments, all eyes were fixed on Li Ziqing.
"What's happening? What did Li Ziqing do to Rong Ruxue?"
"Li Ziqing is usually quiet and keeps to herself. Why's she acting so strange today?"
The murmurs carried a mix of disdain and curiosity. Almost all the girls disliked Li Ziqing, and many of the boys resented her as well. No one came to her defense. Instead, the crowd's judgmental stares emboldened Rong Ruxue.
She lowered her head slightly, feigning timidity, her lips curving with an inward smile. A perfect stage. A perfect moment to display the difference between herself and this nobody.
"Yueyue," she said softly, her voice carrying just enough to be heard, "Li Ziqing didn't say anything. I just wanted to speak to her, but…" She trailed off delicately, as if too shy to continue.
Her incomplete sentence was enough to send imaginations spinning.
"I knew it!" Meng Qianyi snapped, glaring daggers at Li Ziqing. "She's just another insecure social climber. Can't stand it when someone better shows up."
Gong Xinyue crossed her arms and sneered.
"Li Ziqing, how dare you make my friend upset? Don't think any of those boys who ogle you will step in to save you when I decide to make you suffer. You should be grateful you even get to sit in the same class as us. Don't overstep your bounds and offend people far above you."
Her words were sharp as blades, each syllable meant to humiliate and crush.
If this had been the Li Ziqing of her previous life, she would have broken down on the spot—crying, fleeing, humiliated. But the girl standing here now was no longer that helpless victim.
The corner of Li Ziqing's lips curved almost imperceptibly. Gong Xinyue's threats held no weight; not when Li Ziqing was now more than capable of bringing the entire Gong family to its knees, let alone their spoiled young miss.
Li Ziqing's lips curved into a slow, razor-sharp smile. The sneer carried such weight that the air itself seemed to thicken; every eye in the classroom turned toward her. Her calm, crystalline gaze met Gong Xinyue's, cold and unflinching, and for the briefest heartbeat, the arrogant girl faltered.
"You think I said something to upset her?" Li Ziqing's voice was quiet, almost gentle—but each syllable cut with surgical precision. "Gong Xinyue, if arrogance were talent, you'd be an international superstar. Unfortunately, all you really have is borrowed confidence and an overinflated ego."
A ripple of shock passed through the class. Gong Xinyue's face flushed crimson. "You—!"
"Me?" Li Ziqing's smile deepened, a blade's edge masquerading as a curve. "You strut around as if you own this classroom, preaching about what's 'my honor.' Tell me, Xinyue, do you also brag about how much your father had to donate just to buy you a seat in this school?"
The moment Li Ziqing mentioned the word donation, Gong Xinyue's complexion shifted violently—first flushing crimson, then draining of all color. Her pupils contracted. That was a taboo topic. To her knowledge, no one in the class should have known about it. So how did Li Ziqing find out?
"Li Ziqing, don't you dare cross the line," Gong Xinyue hissed, her voice shaking despite her attempt to sound threatening. "Otherwise, don't blame me for what happens next."
Li Ziqing merely chuckled, an almost languid sound that made the air seem heavier. Her lips curled into a half-smile as she leaned back in her chair.
"Crossing the line? I should be saying that to you," she said softly, every word like a cold blade. "Instead of worrying about me, maybe you should start worrying about yourself. After all, the first class reshuffle comes right after the monthly exams. And who knows who'll get kicked out of the Rocket Class? It doesn't matter if I never make it in… but you?"
She deliberately left the sentence hanging, her tone laced with mocking pity. The unfinished threat struck harder than any direct insult.
Gong Xinyue's face went paper-white. Even the thought of being removed from Rocket Class made her stomach churn. She knew better than anyone how merciless her father truly was—opportunistic to the bone. To maintain his immaculate image in Wuhan's high society, he had poured millions into greasing the right palms, bought her way into Wuhan No.1 Middle School, and even donated an entire laboratory just to secure her spot in the elite Rocket Class.
But none of that could make up for her own mediocrity. She could never compete with true prodigies. Since enrollment, she had consistently lingered at the bottom three of the class rankings, never even cracking the top 100 in the entire grade.
Li Ziqing's words weren't just mockery—they were prophecy. Gong Xinyue understood her father's nature too well. He had plenty of illegitimate children outside the marriage; she was only valuable as long as she could serve his ambitions. The moment she lost her Rocket Class status, she'd be discarded like trash and replaced without hesitation.
Her hands trembled beneath her desk. But how… how could Li Ziqing possibly know about the donation?
Li Ziqing knew because she had lived it all once before. In her previous life, Gong Xinyue had indeed failed to remain in the Rocket Class after the monthly exams. Her father had stormed into Lu Mairong's office, throwing a tantrum that echoed through the school. The scandal had spread like wildfire. And now, seeing Gong Xinyue's terrified reaction, Li Ziqing confirmed what she already knew—her memories were accurate.
Her gaze shifted lazily, almost with boredom, to Meng Qianyi. "And you," she said coldly, her eyes narrowing. "Still barking like a stray mutt? Didn't this morning's humiliation teach you enough? You keep talking about money and calling me cheap—as if you're not projecting your own pathetic reality. Tell me, Meng Qianyi, how does it feel knowing your family is so desperate to climb the social ladder that you'd lick anyone's boots for a morsel of attention?"
Meng Qianyi's face turned a violent shade of red, her lips trembling, but not a single word escaped.
Li Ziqing's attention then slid toward Fan Yuelin, who had been smirking with false bravado throughout the exchange. She tilted her head, her tone soft, almost pitying—yet her words cut like razors.
"And you, Fan Yuelin. Calling me a slum girl as if that makes you superior. Funny," she sneered. "I heard Fan Group recently laid off half its employees, and its stock dropped by twelve percent yesterday alone. Every day the market opens, your company bleeds. Instead of worrying about me, maybe start worrying about whether your family business will even survive. What happens if it collapses completely? Will you still strut around like a peacock, or will you be forced to move out of that overpriced apartment and into the Northern District?"
She stepped closer, her voice dropping to an icy whisper. "Be careful, Fan Yuelin. Without your family name propping you up, you're nothing but a spineless coward. Remember this: birth doesn't define worth. A lion from the mountains will always devour the pampered dogs in their mansions."
The classroom fell into a suffocating silence. The whispers that once mocked her had evaporated into stunned stillness. Even Rong Ruxue—who had been sitting with her usual mask of demure innocence—felt her chest tighten and her face stiffen. That proud flush she always carried drained, leaving behind a shadow she couldn't name.
Li Ziqing's eyes swept across the room—calm, unyielding, sovereign. Her presence was suffocating, like an unseen storm pressing against their chests. Then, with a faint scoff, she turned on her heel and walked out, her back straight, every step deliberate and commanding.
Not a single soul dared stop her.
___
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