“Let’s go, let’s go!”
It was unclear which of the six first turned to flee, but the other five hurriedly followed.
Although He Qing Qing had opened her eyes and seen the young man who supported her, she only glanced once before lowering her head as if burned by the scorching sun.
Afraid of frightening him, she covered her face with her sleeve and turned to search for her veil.
During the earlier chaos, the veil had been carelessly discarded by Liu Tian Han, then kicked around and trampled by the crowd, leaving it tattered and covered with dirt and footprints.
Yet she hastily put it on her head, like a drowning person clutching at driftwood.
“Wait.” He Qing Qing heard the young man speak again and froze in place, her body ice-cold.
But he wasn’t addressing her.
The six “green onions” turned back in unison. They now looked at Song Qian Ji as if seeing a ghost in broad daylight.
“What more do you want?” Liu Tian Han shouted, his voice fierce but fearful.
“I want to ask if your Academy Principal knows what you’re doing. Doesn’t he care?”
The young man’s voice remained cool but was no longer gentle.
He Qing Qing glanced up through her dirty veil. For some reason, her eyes suddenly felt sore.
How strange, she hadn’t cried for a long time.
“Even if the Principal doesn’t care, isn’t Ziye Wenshu there? Doesn’t he supervise you?”
When the neighbor’s brat plays ball and dirties your courtyard wall, you wouldn’t directly hit the child; instead, you might ask: “Where are your parents? Don’t they discipline you?”
In his previous life, Song Qian Ji viewed them as comedians providing laughs; now he saw them as a group of mischievous children.
The six, however, acted as if greatly offended, trembling as they pointed:
“How dare you! You presume to directly speak the name of Senior Brother Academy Supervisor!”
“Someone of your status could never even meet Senior Brother Academy Supervisor, so don’t think you can intimidate us!”
Song Qian Ji: “Alright, everyone go home now.”
The six felt as if granted amnesty, fleeing without direction and disappearing at the end of the flower-lined path.
“Did you learn?” Song Qian Ji turned and asked.
“L-learn what?” He Qing Qing’s voice was as faint as a mosquito’s buzz.
She didn’t know why she hadn’t left, nor did she expect this young man would be willing to speak with her.
Awkward and utterly mortified.
“Next time you encounter this kind of situation, just do as I did, and ask those two questions.”
After saying this, Song Qian Ji returned home.
Leaving He Qing Qing standing there, dumbfounded.
Was he standing up for her?
Meng He Ze couldn’t help but walk over.
Although this involved another sect and someone else’s affairs, with him knowing nothing of the circumstances, a young man couldn’t ignore injustice when witnessed.
He asked: “Have they always bullied you like this?”
He Qing Qing remained silent.
“They tell you to come, and you just come? Don’t you resist?”
He Qing Qing stepped back two paces, frightened by his intensity, still saying nothing.
If she hadn’t come today, her situation would have been even worse.
“I’ve heard that Qingya Academy has strict rules of propriety. When they bully a fellow student, won’t you tell your masters?”
He Qing Qing shook her head. She never “reported” to her masters or senior brothers.
For all the injustices fate had inflicted upon her, her only skill was endurance.
Since being rescued from the demon’s lair and sent to Qingya Academy, she had grown accustomed to enduring—this was her survival experience, the way she stayed alive, a belief she held with absolute conviction.
After asking three questions without receiving a single answer, Meng He Ze grew angry at her lack of resistance and stormed back inside with a flick of his sleeve.
The sun gradually sank behind the mountains.
Stars lit up one by one.
Song Qian Ji carried a watering can, using the last rays of sunset to water each vegetable, flower, and plant.
He could vaguely sense the vitality of the crops, such as how much water they needed and whether they had sufficient nutrients.
Under the flower trellis, Meng He Ze practiced sword techniques with one hand, but afraid of harming the seedlings, he dared not use even a hint of spiritual energy.
“Senior Brother Song, do you think I can win the performance competition?”
“Winning isn’t important.”
“Then what is important?”