[Haicheng No. 04 High School—Class 2A—Continuation]
The classroom settled, or at least pretended to. Chairs stopped moving, pens hovered, and notebooks opened.
But the air?
It was still wrong, too tight and too aware. At the front of the class, Mr. He Junyan wrote on the board with clean, precise strokes—
1. Functions and Graphs
Chalk against the board.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Everything about him was controlled and measured. Qiao Ning stared at the words like they had personally insulted her ancestors.
Functions? Graphs?
She'd buried men deeper than these concepts as she muttered under her breath, "…This is ridiculous."
Beside her, Song Xiaoting didn't even look up. "Shh. Some of us are trying to pass this class without committing a felony."
"I didn't commit a felony," Qiao Ning whispered back. "…It was attempted manslaughter at worst."
"YOU HIT A TEACHER."
"He survived."
"That's not the defense you think it is."
