"Is that… the new transfer student? Whose kid even?"
"I dunno… huh? She kinda looks like Anya from Class F."
"Yeah, now that you say it… maybe she does."
…
Whispers ricocheted around the room. Boys, girls, everyone talking like popcorn popping.
Ding—
The bell rang. Anya stepped into Class F, perfectly on beat, like a metronome nobody asked for.
At Purple Star Academy, each grade got sorted by a messy mix of grades and family prestige. Class S? Top-notch, cream of the Kyoto elite. Then A, B, C, descending.
Class F was the weird outlier.
It was a soup of backgrounds, a collection of misfits. The only thing in common? Low grades, zero respect for rules, some with quirks stranger than a cat wearing shoes. The school didn't dare touch them, so they were just… placed here. Like garbage. But expensive, fancy garbage.
Being in F meant being public target practice. Anya fit right in.
Meanwhile, Luna and Flynn were in Class S.
Anya walked in, and suddenly the playful chaos of Class F froze, like someone hit the pause button on a reality show.
"Who's that?"
"Damn, another newbie?"
Anya walked straight to her seat, steps steady, almost militaristic. She sat. Boom. The class erupted.
"Anya?"
"That's her!"
"Shit… I thought we'd get a hot boy instead."
…
A girl turned to whisper to her friend: "Hey… you heard about that thing?"
"Yeah… can't believe she actually came back to school."
"Maybe she thinks her face is literally a pizza plate…"
"Seriously, the audacity," another murmured.
…
All of it floated into Anya's brain, fizzled in like static.
She frowned. Luna again. Of course. That little rumor factory had struck again.
Then, a woman in a sharp suit walked in.
"Class…"
Every head flicked once. Then business as usual. Pretend I'm invisible.
She climbed the podium, called roll, eyes landed on Anya, adjusted glasses. "Ye Weiguo?"
Cue human chaos. Laughter erupted like fireworks in slow motion.
Even the usually silent weirdos couldn't resist.
Only calm? Anya. And Leon, the delicate laptop zombie next to her, eyes glued to code like it was sacred scripture.
Anya's gaze cut through the teacher. "Something wrong?"
The class froze. Laughter choked, like someone had cut the internet mid-stream.
The teacher stammered. "N…nothing…" But inside: why today? Normally, calling her name? Head down, mute, everyone laughs, life goes on. But now? Bold, brazen.
And… rumor said she vanished a few days ago. Dangerous stuff. How is she sitting here? Calm as a Buddha on espresso.
Class began. Chaos simmered quietly.
Anya scanned the room. Mental chess. Who's who. Names aligned.
Among the second-gen trust fund elites, some infamous oddballs.
Next to her, the laptop guy Leon. Parents? Empire Hacker Alliance. Him? A prodigy. Looked delicate, yet messy; could survive in a pile of laundry. Zen-level homebody. Barely spoke.
"Hello Mr. DJ, keep this rhythm going, my brain's having a party, gotta move…"
"Can you not sing?! Every damn day… change the song or die!"
Tall boy flung a book. Hits someone? Unclear. Chaos.
"I just love social songs, whatever," sang the boy, slapping desk, rising with flair.
The fight? Immediate. Class split. Girls screamed. Drama.
Singer boy: Cyrus. Mom, top actress. Empire influence. Half the entertainment world in hand.
Fighter: Hector. Boxer's son. Towering, violent, likes fists over words.
"Next page, please," Anya said. Teacher Selina blinked. Mind blown.
She almost cried. In Class F… a student actually listened. Focused.
Anya sparked her teaching soul. Light. Inspiration. Even in a swamp of academic trash.
"Alright, keep going," Selina breathed, excitement creeping in.
Leon, finished coding, glanced. Dark eyes curious.
Anya tapped the desk, smirked. Class F? Not totally trash.
Meanwhile, boardroom.
"Chairman, Master is here," said secretary, door held, two men entered.
Tall guy: beige pants, white shirt, beige vest. Collar unbuttoned. Hint of clavicle. Handsome. Royal air.
Behind: dark suit, gentlemanly aura.
"Master," Chairman Xie stood, polite.
Ethan smiled, snapped fingers. Luke nodded, waiting outside.
"Sit, Master," Chairman Xie said.
Ethan seated, smooth smile. "Earlier, Chairman Xie told my father multiple times about building an on-campus research institute at Purple Star Academy…"
"Right. Funding… not small. Board can chip in, but you understand, Master… the construction, projects, huge investment," Chairman Xie said earnestly.
Ethan drummed fingers impatiently, smile half-lipped, teasing like a cat with a mouse.