Chapter 57: Campus Violence

“What do you want to talk about?” Ke Zhiyuan refused to listen, still shouting, “Why not talk in school? Where are you taking me?”
One of the boys grew impatient. “Once we get to the Boss Lady, if you keep acting up, you’ll only be asking for trouble!”
It was only then that Ke Zhiyuan realized this was turning into a case of school violence.
Suddenly, the car screeched to a halt. The girl driving let out an annoyed shout, “We’re here!”
“Get out! Try running and see if we don’t beat you to a pulp!” a boy threatened.
The car had turned into a secluded alley, stopping in front of a rundown courtyard that looked long abandoned.
Now, Ke Zhiyuan began to feel afraid. He understood these were all rich kids—the bullies of the school.
But when had he ever crossed these punks? He couldn’t recall. Had a minor quarrel with his deskmate really led to this? Did that person call in these thugs?
The car drove straight into the dilapidated courtyard. As soon as Ke Zhiyuan was shoved out, his mouth was taped shut, and he was dragged deep inside.
There was even a basement at the far end. Ke Zhiyuan was forcibly hauled down the stairs.
Surprisingly, the basement wasn’t dark at all—in fact, it was brightly lit with several lamps. People were already waiting there for those who’d just arrived by car.
The tape was ripped from Ke Zhiyuan’s mouth. He gasped for air, the basement’s stale air still preferable to the stifling car and the suffocating tape.
He was shoved into the open center of the room.
Lifting his eyes, he saw, seated in a grand armchair at the front, a girl with an air of arrogance and coolness, a cigarette dangling from her lips.
She wasn’t the only one—several students were smoking, the smell thick in the air.
Clearly, these were the spoiled heirs and heiresses—the little gangsters of the school.
The situation did not bode well, but Ke Zhiyuan forced himself not to show fear.
“What do you want with me? You know school violence gets punished severely now!” he shouted, trying to sound brave despite his fear.
It was the only way he felt he could keep from crumbling.
Laughter erupted.
One after another, the dozen or so boys and girls in the basement burst into laughter, the sound echoing eerily off the walls.
Ke Zhiyuan clapped his hands over his ears, still trying desperately to stay calm.

He was a good student—only in his first year of high school, yet he’d seen plenty of reports about campus violence. He knew: some students had been beaten to death, others crippled or driven to suicide.
Was this really happening to him now?
His thoughts began to waver.
At that moment, the Boss Lady, sitting at the center, had already stopped laughing. She was staring intently at Ke Zhiyuan.
She was Ye Xiaoting.
Ye Xiaoting finished her cigarette, exhaled a perfect smoke ring in full “bad girl” style, then flicked the butt with a casual snap of her fingers—it shot straight toward Ke Zhiyuan, nearly hitting his groin, making him jump in fright.
A burst of raucous laughter filled the room again.
Ye Xiaoting beckoned to one of the girls beside her. “What do you think of this pretty boy, Ke Zhiyuan?”
“With your eye for talent, Sister Ting, better than any talent scout! He’s only just transferred here, and already—”
Before she could finish, another girl chimed in, “Tsk, tsk, tsk, Sister Ting, if you’d let us have him for ourselves…”
“In your dreams!” Ye Xiaoting nearly smacked her.
The girl shrank back instantly.
“But he’s got some personality, Sister Ting. Should we just pull down his pants and see if—” a boy suggested.
The room erupted in laughter once more.
“Let me go…” Ke Zhiyuan shouted again.
Ye Xiaoting’s expression turned cold. “You just don’t know what’s good for you. Do you know why I invited you here?”
She descended from her “throne” and strode toward Ke Zhiyuan.
She was alone, but to him, her presence felt like an invisible weight.
Suddenly, Ye Xiaoting threw a hook straight into Ke Zhiyuan’s stomach.
He saw it coming, but it was too fast to dodge.
“Why are you hitting me?”
He doubled over, clutching his stomach.
“Because you’re too full of yourself,” Ye Xiaoting replied.
“Sister Ting is mighty! Sister Ting is mighty!”
Chants rang out from every corner of the basement.

Ke Zhiyuan was just about to make a move when Ye Xiaoting swept his legs out from under him, sending him crashing to the floor.
The shouts grew even louder.
“How about now?”
Ye Xiaoting towered over the fallen Ke Zhiyuan, exuding the aura of a queen—only a whip would complete the image.
Being chosen by the school’s queen bee was a favor, and he dared to refuse it!
Two of Ye Xiaoting’s followers rushed over.
“Sister Ting, you just said we should check his pants—leave this glorious task to us!”
Ke Zhiyuan, struggling to get up, turned deathly pale at these words. These spoiled brats were capable of anything. They might even film it.
It was over—he’d fallen into the hands of these half-deranged rich kids.
“Pull down his pants! Pull down his pants!”
The chant spread, everyone joining in.
Ke Zhiyuan felt despair. Even if he reported this to the school, these people would just brush it off as a joke.
And the school, because of their connections, would turn a blind eye, or at most, sweep it under the rug.
Just as the abuse reached its height—while it seemed no one knew what was happening behind those locked doors—someone outside quietly broke in.
Perhaps because they were only students, not real gangsters, Ye Xiaoting and her minions had all rushed down to the basement to join the spectacle.
The person who was supposed to guard the door had locked it and gone downstairs as well.
At that moment, Zheng Xiaoming watched as Zhang Pu effortlessly broke the lock without any tools and blinked in surprise.
He’d hesitated to ask why Zhang Pu insisted on coming alone to confront Ye Xiaoting’s group, but now, for a moment, Zheng Xiaoming felt as if Zhang Pu was cloaked in some mysterious power.