Upon witnessing injustice, one cries out with righteous indignation.

Life at No. 1 High School was far more tedious than Chen Ruowen had imagined. There were exams on odd-numbered days and worksheet reviews on even-numbered days, six days a week. During morning self-study, she either memorized vocabulary or recited texts; in the evenings, it was practice problems from question banks or endless mock exams. Chen Ruowen felt as though she was turning into a soulless machine, grinding through exercises without emotion.

During the evening break, bored out of her mind, Chen Ruowen was scrolling through the news when she saw that Twin Stars’ long-planned IP adaptation project had finally been set in motion. They had signed partnership agreements with the two largest online literature platforms in the country, kicking off an ambitious plan to adapt popular web novels into TV dramas.

In the first round of collaboration, Twin Stars secured the rights to over a dozen of the most popular novels from recent years—such as “Sovereign of the Firmament,” “Empire of Light,” “Chronicles of the Qing Palace,” “Empress of Six Realms,” and more—each with a unique style, and began the adaptation process.

For the most commercially viable works, Twin Stars held a high-profile actor selection competition, using it as a trial run for talent shows and as a way to promote the series. Meanwhile, for those less renowned but with stronger storylines, they quietly started preparations, casting the company’s most celebrated actors in leading roles. They even planned to bring out Lin Yuling, the veteran film queen and one of Twin Stars’ icons, who had long since announced her retirement from show business, to lend her gravitas to the project.

Rumors circulated online that Twin Stars was up to something big—intending to dominate the country’s film festivals for years to come and groom a new generation of stars. This drove both professional and aspiring actors into a frenzy, all desperate for a chance to secure a role.

“What’s so special about a Best Actress trophy? Even if you gave it to me, I wouldn’t want it,” Chen Ruowen muttered to herself.

“Hey, Chen Ruowen.”

She was about to check the cast list when she heard someone call her name. She lazily glanced up to see two girls from her class standing before her. Their names escaped her—she only knew they often hovered around Bai Jinyan’s desk during breaks, asking him questions.

Without looking at them, Chen Ruowen enlarged the advancement list for the four competition regions on her screen.

“Hey! I’m talking to you!” The girl on the left, irked by her silence, knocked on her desk.

The girl on the right was more composed. She sat down in the empty seat in front of Chen Ruowen and smiled politely.

“Chen Ruowen, do you have any plans this Sunday?”

The contestant selection seemed to prioritize obscurity; the seeded candidates were so unknown that even after searching, Chen Ruowen couldn’t figure out who they were.

“Chen Ruowen?” the seated girl repeated uncertainly.

“If you have something to say, say it.” Chen Ruowen’s tone was impatient, and she didn’t bother to look up.

“We’re speaking to you nicely—what’s with the attitude?” the standing girl snapped.

No one offers kindness without a motive. Chen Ruowen had understood that lesson before she was ten. She had no intention of integrating herself into No. 1 High; she never went out of her way to greet her classmates. For these two to approach her directly, their motive was obvious enough that she didn’t need to think twice, and she had no desire to entertain them.

“Ye Qing!” The seated girl, seeing Chen Ruowen unmoved, quickly interrupted her companion’s outburst and turned back to Chen Ruowen.

“Here’s the thing. This weekend happens to be my eighteenth birthday. My family is hosting a dinner at Bai Yanlou. Do you have time to come?”

Before Chen Ruowen could decline, she continued with a cheerful smile, “You seem to be quite close with Bai Jinyan. You can come together if you like—everyone’s welcome!”

Chen Ruowen tapped the back button on the news page and sneered.

There it was—the real reason. The invitation was just a pretext; the real aim was to get to Bai Jinyan through her.

But Chen Ruowen couldn’t quite understand. In terms of academics, Bai Jinyan was one of the top students, but there were others just as outstanding. In terms of looks, at least by her standards, he was merely clean-cut and decent. How did he manage to attract the attention of girls, and two at once, in such a studious and disciplined school as Nancheng No. 1 High?

“Chen Ruowen? Are you listening?” the seated girl asked again.

“Sorry, I have a question.”

Chen Ruowen finally tore her gaze from her phone and looked at the utterly unremarkable face before her.

“Go ahead,” the girl replied eagerly.

Chen Ruowen smiled sweetly. “Excuse me, but—do I know you?”

…

Watching the other girl freeze in disbelief, Chen Ruowen stretched uncomfortably and strode out of the classroom on her long legs.

Bang!

Just as she stepped outside, a white-clad figure rushed toward her and collided with her head-on. The impact slammed Chen Ruowen’s back hard against the doorframe, making her wince in pain. Yet, the culprit seemed oblivious, clutching her arms and bowing her head, ready to run off again.

“Hey!”

Chen Ruowen quickly grabbed the girl’s arm, her tone icy. “You just ran into me.”

The girl glanced at Chen Ruowen, then bit her lip and lowered her head, still silent.

It was only when the stranger looked up that Chen Ruowen realized the person she’d collided with was a very beautiful girl—about her height, but with an even more striking figure, a proud bust, a slender waist, and long legs. Her jet-black eyes were deep as pools, the kind that could make one forget half their troubles with a single glance.

Yet her back was slightly hunched, her expression panicked and helpless, her timid demeanor undermining her beauty.

Chen Ruowen rarely met anyone whose appearance she truly admired. This girl was lovely, but her manners were appalling. To crash into someone and then try to run?

“Are you mute? Apologize!”

The girl in white trembled and, after a visible effort, finally looked up and murmured, barely louder than a mosquito, “S-s-sorry—”

“Guo Jingyuan! I told you to run! Go on, run again, you little tramp!”

A shrill female voice rang out. A hand reached out from a distance, seized the white-clad girl’s hair, yanked her backward, and slapped her hard across the face.

“Stealing my boyfriend, you slut!” she shrieked, slamming the girl’s head against the wall and kicking her in the calf. The girl grunted in pain but clenched her teeth, stubbornly refusing to speak.

Stealing a boyfriend? Wasn’t this the sort of school where boys and girls couldn’t even walk together without being summoned by the homeroom teacher for a talk? And now there was romance drama this intense?

Chen Ruowen shook her head, hands in her pockets, ready to walk away. But as she turned, the girl in the white dress looked up slightly, her clear eyes meeting Chen Ruowen’s for a brief moment. Against her better judgment, Chen Ruowen’s steps faltered.

There were plenty of students in the hallway at this hour, most lingering nearby, watching with a kind of practiced indifference. Some, however, shot the girl in white a look of disgust before hurrying back to class as if fleeing the plague.

“Another girl causing trouble for Guo Jingyuan?” came a familiar voice. Chen Ruowen turned to see Ma Yunan, who had been hovering around Bai Jinyan for days.

“What’s going on?” Chen Ruowen asked quietly.

“I’m not really sure,” Ma Yunan replied. “But I heard from students in the liberal arts class that Guo Jingyuan isn’t very popular with her classmates.”

Chen Ruowen raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Why? She’s beautiful—you’d think she’d have lots of admirers.”

“There were plenty after her in tenth grade, but…” Ma Yunan hesitated, then leaned in to whisper, “They say she’s not…pure.”

“Not pure? She doesn’t shower?” Chen Ruowen deadpanned.

“…”

Ma Yunan rolled her eyes and, giving up, explained, “They say she’s not a virgin.”

“Did the gynecology department tell you that?”

“…What?”

“So you were hiding under her bed, eavesdropping?”

“…What?”

Ignoring Ma Yunan’s confusion, Chen Ruowen stepped forward and grabbed the arm of the skinny, swarthy girl who was still cursing and poised to hit again.

“That’s enough.”

The girl turned, annoyed at being interrupted, but upon seeing a beautiful stranger, her expression twisted with scorn.

“So you two are in this together, huh? Sluts United? Think you can seduce someone’s boyfriend just because you’re pretty? Shameless!”

Chen Ruowen had never been insulted like this in her life—especially not for no reason at all.

Her expression darkened. She flung the girl’s hand away forcefully, her tone dangerous. “If you can’t speak properly, then keep your mouth shut.”

Sensing the tension, Ma Yunan slipped into the classroom to call for help.

“Yan, Yan, something’s happened!” she called breathlessly.

Bai Jinyan, who had just finished a geometry problem, didn’t even look up. “What could possibly happen at school?”

Ma Yunan, hands braced on Bai Jinyan’s desk, said urgently, “Your Ruowen is about to get into a fight with a girl from the liberal arts class!”

Bai Jinyan’s pen froze. He stood up at once, heading out as he asked, “What happened? She’s never been in a fight before.”

Chen Ruowen was sharp-tongued and had a bit of a temper, but fighting? She hated it more than anything.

Chen Ruowen, fighting? Impossible.

Ma Yunan quickly recounted the events. When they reached the hallway, they saw Chen Ruowen facing off against the black-skinned, skinny girl, while the infamous Guo Jingyuan leaned weakly against the wall, head hanging low, surrounded by a crowd of onlookers.

Just as Bai Jinyan arrived, the skinny girl, having just finished her tirade, raised her hand again, aiming to strike Chen Ruowen.

Chen Ruowen folded her arms across her chest, eyes narrowed as she watched the movement, her voice cold and sharp.

“If you dare land that slap, you can say goodbye to your hand.”