It was clear that Fu Yi had some understanding of her father's line of work, which made her look at Huai Shi with an odd expression. "Did you get into trouble during the summer?"
". . . Yes."
Huai Shi nodded, unsure of what to say.
Fu Yi did not press further but only said, "There's no need to be afraid of him. He's just used to being rough, that's all, not knowing a bit of . . . subtlety. Perhaps it's the same with all who have been on the battlefield; no matter how well-intentioned they are in their hearts, they're not always likable."
After idling for a while, she received a message about a student council meeting and left, having regained her composed and ladylike demeanor.
Huai Shi stayed alone in the piano room until the evening self-study period. Following Raven's instructions, he took his Potion and then practiced piano for several hours while completing his daily meditation.
He felt that as his body developed, the fluctuations of Source Substance within him grew richer. He anticipated that he would soon reach his peak, right?
Soon, after his growth spurt ended, he could start preparing for his Stigma. Raven had said she would choose a Genealogy and type that would be a perfect match for him.
That would surely cost a hefty sum of money again . . .
Thinking about this gave Huai Shi a bit of a headache, but it seemed he had gradually gotten used to this demanding daily routine.
Practicing piano, chatting with classmates, slacking off, dealing with teachers' inspections, making some mistakes, facing some reprimands, meditating, sharing meme pictures, playing free-to-play gacha mobile games, doing homework, taking exams, squeezing in time for work at the Astronomical Society, reading records from the Book of Fate, preparing for the college entrance exams . . .
When you actually counted all the tasks, the list was overwhelmingly long.
Despite its many imperfections and many things that seemed unnecessary, this was the precious life he had earned through his own efforts.
Even if it was tough, he relished it.
And so, he left the evening self-study session early.
Just kidding! Now that he finally had privileges, was he supposed to stay up past nine o'clock every day, miss the last bus, and ride a shared bike home as he used to?
He was now a man who could afford a monthly bus pass!
Huai Shi, carrying his violin case and humming a tune, deliberately took a detour in front of the academic building, swaggering out of the school gate amidst the envious, jealous, and resentful gazes of his classmates.
Then, he was stopped by the gatekeeper.
"You're Huai Shi, aren't you?" The gatekeeper uncle, who was playing on his phone, had some recollection of him. He pointed to the gatehouse. "You've got a package . . . Don't let this happen again, okay? This isn't a collection point. Next time, I'll just notify your homeroom teacher to pick it up."
"What?" Huai Shi was taken aback, his gaze following the man's finger to a pile of delivery boxes stacked in the corner of the gatehouse.
For some reason, his hairs stood on end. A tangible chill seemed to crawl up from his heels to the nape of his neck, tap-dancing on his shoulders, then stomping on his eyebrows to reach the crown of his head. It tugged at his hair, cackling as it circled, whispering cold, mocking laughter in his ear.
He nearly lost his balance and stumbled backward.
"What's wrong?" The gatekeeper glanced at him, then shook his head. "Never mind, I'll bring it to you."
"Wait!" Huai Shi reached out and grabbed the man's wrist. The uncle froze mid-step, astonished, and turned his head to look back, surprised that a Little Brag had managed to grip his arm painfully.
"Sorry, I can handle it myself." Huai Shi rather impolitely pulled him to a halt, took off his violin case, and walked into the gatehouse. He crouched down to examine the package bearing his name.
Amidst the cacophony from the television on the wall, he faintly heard a ticking sound coming from inside the box.
So crisp.
Huai Shi crouched on the ground, motionless. He remained silent for a long time, until the gatekeeper, growing impatient, urged him several times. Only then did he slowly stand up and, almost roughly, drag the gatekeeper outside, ignoring whatever the man was saying. Huai Shi took out his phone and called Director Fu.
"Hello? This is Huai Shi." Huai Shi looked up at the security camera outside the gate. "Director Fu, you can see me, right?"
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" The middle-aged man's voice was tight with suppressed anger. "Do I, a Director of the Special Affairs Department, look like I have nothing better to do than watch surveillance feeds all day spying on you?"
"Never mind." Huai Shi sighed. "Just come to the school. Bring people, and a bomb disposal expert would be best . . . The school is about to blow up. Literally."
"What's going on?! What the hell is it?! What have you gotten yourself into?!" Director Fu was instantly alarmed, the 'Third Question' barrage hitting Huai Shi fast and furious.
Once he processed that, a cacophony erupted from the other end of the line: "Ten minutes! Wait for me! Stay right where you are, and don't move a thing!"
The call ended. Huai Shi then called Ai Qing to inform her of the situation. Afterward, he quietly waited with the gatekeeper about ten meters away from the gatehouse.
Of course, whether the gatekeeper uncle was willing to wait was another matter entirely. Meanwhile, their actions seemed to have drawn considerable attention, including from patrolling security guards and teachers on their way to evening self-study.
Soon, the commotion died down abruptly as a convoy of pitch-black vehicles arrived.
Groups of burly men, armed to the teeth, poured out of the vehicles, followed by Director Fu in a bulletproof vest, who walked straight toward Huai Shi.
"Where is it?"
Huai Shi pointed toward the gatehouse. Director Fu, wasting no more words, waved his hand. Two figures encumbered by heavy bomb disposal suits pushed a cart carrying a blast containment sphere into the gatehouse.
Soon, unfortunate news crackled over the walkie-talkies.
Director Fu's expression grew even darker. He shot Huai Shi a glare and signaled for everyone to retreat another considerable distance.
Before long, two experts emerged. They took off their helmets; their messy hair was plastered to their foreheads, and sweat dripped from their chins.
"It's dealt with."
They helped each other out of their bulky protective gear, then showed Director Fu the box resting inside the blast containment sphere. The opened box revealed a wicked-looking device made of densely packed wires and circuit boards; its countdown timer had stopped at one hour and thirty minutes.
"It looks like a pretty standard design." Director Fu hadn't even examined it closely when a hand suddenly reached into the sphere from the side, plucked out the contents, and began to weigh them. The action almost made Director Fu's breath catch in his throat.
It was Ai Qing. She sat in her wheelchair, casually handling the dangerous object that could have blasted her sky-high. "What type of trigger?"
"Two types: a combination of impact and timer. Opening the box or the timer reaching zero would both trigger detonation. The explosive is standard mining dynamite, relatively low yield—probably only enough to level this gatehouse."
The expert caught his breath, sat on the ground, and lit a cigarette. "If it had been opened in a classroom or a similar place, the consequences would have been dire."
Director Fu stood with his hands clasped behind his back, silent, the veins on the backs of his hands bulging.
"This has escalated into a serious public safety incident," Ai Qing said, rubbing her temples, clearly troubled. "Who delivered it?"
Soon, street surveillance footage displayed the deliverer on the screen.
It showed a man wearing a cap, his posture stooped. He wore an old uniform from a northern courier company. Yet, no matter how you looked at him, he didn't resemble a courier; his steps were somewhat unsteady, and he walked with a limp.
From start to finish, his face remained hidden beneath the brim of his cap, making his features indistinct. After handing the package to the gatekeeper, he rode off on a scooter.
Just before leaving, however, he seemed to lift his head provocatively, looking straight at the surveillance camera.
Revealing a twisted face, hideously scarred by burns.
Vague remnants of a once kind and friendly appearance still clung to it.
He was grinning gleefully.
At everyone present.
There was no need for recollection; merely seeing that face was enough for everyone present who had experienced the turmoil a fortnight ago to recognize him.
That was the nominal former leader of the Savior Association . . .
"King Ocean?!" Director Fu's eyes widened in disbelief. "He's still alive?"
"It certainly seems he's alive and well," Ai Qing remarked, coldly glancing at the smug smile on the screen. "And apparently, he still has the strength to issue us a Challenge Letter."
Soon, the brief discussion ended.
Undoubtedly, this was a provocation aimed at the Special Affairs Department and the Astronomical Society. For a remnant of the Savior Association to now dare to launch an attack so brazenly in Xinhai was like dancing the New Treasure Island at the very gates of Sea Trench Prison—utterly courting death.
At this point, aside from grinding those bastards to dust, there was no other option.
From that moment on, the Special Affairs Department went into full swing. Their informants, planted in every corner of Xinhai, would begin searching for any trace of King Ocean. Once the slightest clue was found, a group of eager men, brandishing weapons and spoiling for a fight, would descend from the heavens to teach him a lesson.
Throughout it all, Huai Shi sat on the steps, his expression calm. He said nothing, remaining silent. It was as if he were daydreaming, until, after a long while, he seemed to snap out of it and turned to Ai Qing beside him. "Is it over?"
"It may have only just begun." Ai Qing shrugged. "Don't put too much pressure on yourself. Someone from the Special Affairs Department will take you home first. Rest well tonight. I'll let you know if there's any news."
"Okay." Huai Shi nodded. Then, after taking a couple of steps, he seemed to remember something and turned back to ask, "By the way, could you help me arrange a leave of absence?"
"Hmm?" Ai Qing was startled for a moment. She looked into his eyes, then sighed and nodded.
"Thanks." Huai Shi smiled and said nothing more. He picked up his violin case and took one last look at the school, now returning to calm, and at the lights in the distant piano room.
Through a window, it seemed he saw Fu Yi's silhouette watching him from afar, so Huai Shi waved to her.
He waved goodbye.
After a long while, he withdrew his gaze and turned to leave.
「. . .」
"I'm back." Amidst the sharp screech of the door latch, Huai Shi pushed open the gate of the Stone Marrow Pavilion. Although there was no one in the courtyard waiting for him, he still called out as if he were truly coming home.
The iron gate closed slowly behind him, as if responding.
Just as he entered the hall, he saw Raven standing beside the boiling Crucible, flapping her wings at Huai Shi.
"Sir, time for your Potion."
"Didn't I already take one this morning?" Huai Shi walked over, picked up a test tube from the table, and downed its contents in one gulp.
"An extra dose. I've adjusted the Potion's formula slightly to suit your current condition," Raven explained. After that, she didn't pry further but curiously tilted her head, examining Huai Shi as if she'd noticed something interesting.
"What's wrong?" Huai Shi was puzzled.
"No, I was just thinking—normally, you'd have some witty comeback to 'Sir, time for your Potion,' wouldn't you?" Raven asked. "Did something happen, Huai Shi?"
Huai Shi remained silent.
After a long time, he slowly shook his head and turned toward the upstairs bedroom.
"Nothing happened," he said in a low voice, his back to Raven. "I'm going to sleep. Good night."
He closed the door, removed his coat, kicked off his shoes.
Huai Shi flopped onto the bed, staring blankly at the cracks on the wall as if in a daze. After a long while, he buried his face in his pillow in an agony of regret.
Damn it, I'm so weak . . .
Raven, perched on a tree branch outside the window and witnessing all this, didn't go in to offer any comfort.
She squinted. Looks like he's taken quite a beating. The collection of Stigmata Materials needs to be prioritized . . .
Musing over the upcoming plans and necessary preparations, she returned to the table in the hall and began jotting down notes and sketches in a notebook.
Then came the long night.
Huai Shi's new semester, and the peaceful life he longed for, had thus come to an abrupt end.
He was now on leave.