Three days pass before I see Yu Chen again.
Three days of watching my grandmother grow paler, her cough becoming more persistent as stress weakens her already fragile system. Three days of her coming home with barely enough money to buy rice, let alone the medicine she needs. Three days of listening to her apologize for things that aren't her fault.
When I finally spot Yu Chen in the Academy's courtyard, she's laughing.
She sits at the center of a group of her usual followers, perched on one of the ornate stone benches that ring the magical fountain. The fountain itself is a masterwork of arcane engineering, streams of liquid light that shift through every color of the spectrum while defying gravity to flow upward in impossible spirals. It's beautiful in the way that only magic can be, a casual display of power that costs more to maintain for a single day than most Lower Wuhan families see in a year.
Yu Chen gestures animatedly as she tells some story to her audience, her voice carrying clearly across the courtyard. She wears the expensive version of our school uniform, silk instead of cotton, perfectly tailored instead of hand-me-down loose. The jade pendant that supposedly went missing hangs prominently around her neck, catching the light from the fountain as she moves.
The pendant that destroyed my grandmother's reputation. The pendant that was never actually stolen.
I stand in the shadow of the main building, watching her performance. She's describing something that involves elaborate hand gestures and dramatic facial expressions, and her friends hang on every word. Whatever story she's telling, it's clearly entertaining.
"and you should have seen her face when Father made her empty out her bag," Yu Chen says, her voice bright with amusement. "Like she actually thought we'd believe her innocent act."
My blood turns to ice in my veins.
"The old woman was practically shaking," she continues, warming to her theme. "Probably thought we'd call the Enforcement Officers on her. Though honestly, a night in detention might teach her people some respect."
One of her friends, a girl I recognize from Advanced Transmutation, leans forward with obvious interest. "What happened to the pendant? Did you ever find it?"
Yu Chen's smile turns sly. "Oh, that. It was in my jewelry box the whole time. Silly me, I forgot I'd put it away after the family dinner." She touches the pendant at her throat, the gesture casual and dismissive. "But honestly, it was worth the mix-up just to see how the staff reacted. They get so dramatic about these things."
The words hit me like physical blows. Not only did she lie about the theft, but she knew she was lying from the beginning. She destroyed my grandmother's life as entertainment, a casual cruelty designed to amuse herself and her friends.
My hands shake as rage floods through my system, so pure and intense it makes me dizzy. I want to march across the courtyard and wrap my fingers around her throat. I want to see her eyes bulge with terror as she realizes that actions have consequences. I want to make her feel a fraction of the helplessness she's inflicted on us.
But I can't. I'm Cursed, powerless, irrelevant. If I so much as raise my voice to her, she could have me expelled with a word. Her family's influence reaches into every aspect of the Academy's administration. Attacking her would be suicide, not just for me, but for my grandmother, who would lose even the pittance they're currently paying her.
So I stand there and listen as Yu Chen continues her performance.
"The best part," she says, "is that we cut her pay in half. Father said it was important to maintain standards, you know? Can't have the help thinking they can get away with things, even if we can't prove it this time."
Her friends nod sagely, as if she's sharing some profound wisdom about managing the lower classes. They see nothing wrong with punishing an innocent woman for a crime that never happened. To them, my grandmother's suffering is just another amusing anecdote to share over lunch.
"Besides," Yu Chen adds with a laugh, "it's not like she has anywhere else to go. Who's going to hire a sick old woman from the slums? She should be grateful we're keeping her on at all."
Something inside me breaks.
It's not a dramatic snapping, like a rope under too much tension. It's more like the final crack in a dam that's been weakening for years, the moment when all the pressure finally finds its way through. The careful control I've maintained, the resigned acceptance of my powerlessness, the naive hope that things might somehow get better, all of it washes away in an instant.
What replaces it is cold and sharp and utterly without mercy.
I watch Yu Chen laugh at my grandmother's pain, and I make a promise that feels like signing my name in blood. Someday, somehow, I will make her pay. Not just for this, but for every casual cruelty she's ever inflicted. For every person she's stepped on because she could. For every moment of suffering she's caused for her own amusement.
I don't know how yet. I don't know when. But I will find a way.
The bell chimes, signaling the start of first period, and Yu Chen's group disperses toward their various classes. She walks past me without a glance, close enough that I can smell her expensive perfume, see the perfect styling of her hair, notice how her every step radiates the confidence of someone who has never faced real consequences for anything.
I follow her into the building, maintaining enough distance to avoid drawing attention. She heads toward the Advanced Magical Applications classroom, a course restricted to students who've already mastered the basics of energy manipulation. I'm not enrolled in that class. I never could be.
Instead, I go to my own first period: Theoretical Foundations of Magical Principles. Another class where I can excel at understanding what I can never do.
Professor Lin is already writing formulas on the blackboard when I enter, his precise script outlining the mathematical relationships that govern spell construction. I take my usual seat in the back and try to focus on his words, but my mind keeps drifting to Yu Chen's laughter.
The worst part isn't even what she did to my grandmother. It's the casual way she discussed it, like we're not even real people to her. We're just props in her life, objects to be manipulated for her entertainment. The thought that we might have feelings, might suffer, might matter in any meaningful way never even occurred to her.
"Feng, can you explain the principle of sympathetic resonance?"
I look up to find Professor Lin watching me expectantly. The entire class has turned to stare, waiting for my response. I've missed whatever context led to the question, but the concept itself is basic enough.
"Sympathetic resonance occurs when two magical systems with similar vibrational frequencies begin to synchronize their energy patterns," I recite automatically. "The stronger system gradually dominates the weaker one until they achieve harmonic alignment."
"Good. And what are the practical applications of this principle?"
"Healing magic relies on it to synchronize damaged tissue with healthy templates. Enchantment uses it to align objects with desired magical properties. Combat magic..." I pause, struck by a sudden thought. "Combat magic uses it to overwhelm an opponent's defenses by matching and exceeding their protective frequencies."
Professor Lin nods approvingly. "Excellent. You see how theoretical knowledge translates to practical application, even for those who cannot directly manipulate magical energies."
The words are meant to be encouraging, but they only deepen my frustration. I understand these principles better than most students who can actually use them. I can see the elegant mathematics that underlies all magical phenomena, recognize the patterns and relationships that make miracles possible. But understanding and doing are entirely different things.
After class, I find myself walking the Academy's halls without any particular destination. My next period doesn't start for another twenty minutes, but I can't bring myself to go to the library or cafeteria where other students gather. The thought of making small talk or pretending everything is normal feels impossible right now.
Instead, I climb the stairs to the observation deck on the building's fifteenth floor. It's a circular platform that offers panoramic views of the city, popular with students who want to practice aerial magic or simply enjoy the scenery. At this hour, it should be mostly empty.
I'm wrong.
Yu Chen stands at the eastern railing, looking out over the glittering towers of the Arcanocrat district. She's alone, which surprises me, I've rarely seen her without her usual entourage of followers. Her hands rest on the railing, and from this angle, she looks almost contemplative.
I should leave. Being alone with her is dangerous, especially in my current state of mind. But something keeps me rooted in place, watching her from the shadows of the stairwell entrance.
She reaches up to touch the pendant at her throat, the same one that caused so much pain. In the bright morning light, I can see the intricate carving on its surface, a dragon curled around a phoenix, symbols of her family's dual mastery of elemental and spiritual magic. It's probably worth more than my grandmother will earn in her entire lifetime.
"I know you're there," Yu Chen says without turning around.
My heart stops. For a moment, I consider backing down the stairs, pretending I never came up here. But pride and rage keep me frozen in place.
"Are you going to stand there lurking, or are you going to say something?" She turns to face me, and I'm struck by how different she looks when she's not performing for an audience. The cruel amusement is still there, but there's something else underneath it, a calculating intelligence that makes my skin crawl.
I step out of the shadows, forcing my expression into something approaching neutrality. "I was just looking for a quiet place to study."
"Of course you were." Her smile is sharp enough to cut. "The poor little Cursed boy, always studying so hard. Tell me, how does it feel to know all that theory and never be able to use any of it?"
The casual cruelty in her voice is like a match to gasoline. All the careful control I've been maintaining since this morning's revelation vanishes in an instant.
"How does it feel to destroy innocent people for your own amusement?"
The words are out before I can stop them, hanging in the air between us like a challenge. Yu Chen's eyebrows rise in mock surprise.
"Destroy? That's a bit dramatic, don't you think?" She turns back to the railing, dismissing me with the gesture. "I simply reported a missing item. If your grandmother suffered consequences for that, well... perhaps she shouldn't have put herself in a position where suspicion could fall on her."
The victim-blaming makes my vision red around the edges. "You knew the pendant was never stolen. You knew she was innocent."
"Did I?" Yu Chen's voice carries false innocence that makes my hands clench into fists. "Memory can be such a tricky thing. When something goes missing, it's natural to assume... well, you know what they say about your people."
She doesn't say it directly, but the implication hangs heavy in the air. The stereotype that the Cursed are naturally dishonest, that our inability to use magic somehow makes us morally deficient. It's a lie used to justify treating us as second-class citizens, and she wields it like a weapon.
"She gave three years of her life caring for your family's children," I say, stepping closer despite every instinct telling me to retreat. "She loved those kids like her own grandchildren."
"How touching." Yu Chen finally turns to face me again, and the mask has dropped completely. The expression underneath is cold and calculating, without a trace of human warmth. "But love doesn't pay the bills, does it? And sentiment certainly doesn't make up for... inadequacies."
She knows exactly what she's doing. Every word is chosen to inflict maximum damage, to remind me of my powerlessness while she revels in her own superiority. She's enjoying this conversation, feeding on my anger like a parasite.
"You're a monster," I whisper.
"No," she says with a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "I'm realistic. The world has natural hierarchies, Feng. Some people are born to lead, others to serve. Fighting against that order only brings suffering."
She steps closer, invading my personal space with the confidence of someone who has never feared retaliation.
"Your grandmother learned that lesson. Perhaps it's time you learned it too."
Something snaps inside my chest. Not breaking this time, but transforming. The helpless rage that's been eating at me for days crystallizes into something harder and infinitely more dangerous.
I look at Yu Chen's perfect face, her flawless uniform, her casual cruelty wrapped in pretty words, and I feel something I've never experienced before. Not just anger or hatred, but a cold, patient certainty that this cannot be allowed to stand.
She thinks she's untouchable because she has power and I don't. She thinks she can destroy lives without consequence because the world has always protected people like her. She thinks the natural order she speaks of will keep her safe forever.
She's wrong.
I don't know how yet, but I'm going to prove her wrong.
"You're right," I say quietly, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. "The world does have hierarchies. But sometimes those hierarchies change."
Her smile falters slightly at my tone, as if she's finally noticed that something fundamental has shifted in our dynamic.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
I look directly into her eyes, letting her see just a hint of what's growing inside me. "It means that power isn't always permanent, Yu Chen. And people who abuse it... sometimes they find out what it feels like to be on the other side."
For the first time since I've known her, she looks uncertain. Just for a moment, just a flicker, but I see it. The first crack in her armor of absolute confidence.
I turn and walk away, leaving her standing alone on the observation deck. My footsteps echo in the stairwell as I descend, each step feeling like a promise being made to the universe.
The old Feng, the one who accepted powerlessness as natural, who believed in cosmic justice and eventual redemption, died somewhere in that conversation.
What's left is something harder. Something that understands the world's true nature and is prepared to work within it.
I don't know what that means yet, or what I'm becoming.
But as I walk through the Academy's halls, feeling the stares of students who see me as less than human, I know that everything has changed.
The game is different now.
And Yu Chen just taught me the only rules that matter.