The bell for first period rang like a starting pistol.
Lin Wei shoved her orientation packet into her bag and headed for Class 3-A, heart still pounding from the assembly stunt. She could feel eyes tracking her the entire way down the corridor—some curious, some amused, a few openly hostile. Starlight Academy wasn't just a school; it was a battlefield dressed in designer uniforms.
She found the classroom at the end of the east wing. Floor-to-ceiling windows, sleek black desks arranged in perfect rows, a massive interactive board that probably cost more than her family's old apartment. The room was already half-full. Students chatted in low clusters, phones out, laughing at something on their screens.
She scanned for an empty seat near the back. Safe. Invisible.
No luck.
The only open desk was smack in the middle row—right next to the window. And directly across the aisle from it sat Huo Yan.
Of course.
He was already there, long legs stretched out under the desk, scrolling through his phone with one hand while the other tapped a pen against the wood in slow, deliberate rhythm. He didn't look up when she entered, but the tapping stopped the second her shadow fell across his desk.
Lin Wei hesitated for half a heartbeat, then forced herself to move. She slid into the seat, dropping her bag beside her chair with a soft thud.
The room quieted a fraction. Conversations dipped. Heads turned.
Huo Yan finally lifted his gaze.
His eyes were darker up close—almost black, framed by lashes most girls would kill for. They swept over her slowly, from the slightly frayed edge of her uniform blazer down to the plain white sneakers she'd polished the night before.
"You're in my line of sight," he said, voice low enough that only she and the people immediately around them could hear.
Lin Wei met his stare without blinking.
"Then look somewhere else."
A muscle ticked in his jaw. For a second she thought he might actually stand up and leave. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest.
"You really don't know how this works, do you?"
"Enlighten me." She pulled out her notebook and pen, flipping it open like his presence was background noise.
He let out a short, humorless breath through his nose.
"People like you don't sit here. They sit in the back, keep their heads down, and thank the universe every day they get to breathe the same air as the rest of us."
Lin Wei's pen paused mid-stroke.
"People like me?" she repeated, turning her head just enough to look at him sideways. "You mean people who earned their spot instead of buying it?"
The words landed like a slap.
Someone behind them—probably Meng Jiao—made a small, scandalized sound.
Huo Yan's expression didn't change, but the air around him seemed to drop ten degrees.
"You think a scholarship makes you special?" he asked, voice dangerously quiet. "It makes you temporary. One wrong move and you're gone. Poof." He flicked his fingers like he was brushing away dust.
Lin Wei smiled. Small. Sharp.
"Good thing I'm not planning on making any wrong moves then."
She turned back to her notebook and started jotting down the date and class title as if he hadn't spoken.
The silence stretched.
Then Huo Yan leaned forward, elbows on his desk, voice dropping even lower.
"You talked back to me in front of the entire school. That was cute for five minutes. But now everyone's watching. Waiting for you to slip. And when you do..." He let the sentence hang, unfinished, but the threat was clear.
Lin Wei didn't look at him.
"I'm not scared of you, Huo Yan."
He laughed under his breath—cold, quiet, almost surprised.
"You will be."
The classroom door slid open. Their homeroom teacher, Ms. Liang—a stern woman in her forties with glasses perched on the tip of her nose—strode in, clipboard in hand.
"Settle down. Attendance."
As names were called, Lin Wei kept her eyes on her notebook. But she could feel him watching her. Not staring. Just... aware. Like a predator deciding whether the prey was worth the chase.
When her name was called—"Lin Wei"—several heads turned again.
"Here," she answered clearly.
Ms. Liang nodded without comment and moved on.
Huo Yan's pen started tapping again. Slower this time. More deliberate.
Lin Wei risked one quick glance sideways.
He was looking straight ahead now, profile sharp against the morning light. But the corner of his mouth was curved—just barely—in something that might have been amusement.
Or anticipation.
The lesson began. Advanced Mathematics. Equations scrolled across the board. Lin Wei forced herself to focus, scribbling notes, trying to ignore the electric current that seemed to hum in the space between their desks.
But every time she shifted in her seat, she felt his presence like heat off asphalt in summer.
Halfway through the period, the teacher called for pair work—solve the problem set with the person beside you.
Lin Wei's stomach dropped.
Huo Yan turned his head slowly.
Their eyes locked again.
He raised one perfect eyebrow.
"Well?" he said softly. "Shall we?"
Lin Wei swallowed.
She had exactly two choices: refuse and look weak, or play his game and risk getting burned.
She pushed her notebook toward the center of the desks.
"Let's get this over with."
His smile was slow. Dangerous. Beautiful.
"Oh, scholarship girl," he murmured, leaning in just enough that she caught the faint scent of expensive cologne and something sharper underneath—like storm air. "This is only the beginning."