The result in theory and practice was worlds apart, Belle's attack power was weak, and Ray Jones grabbed Belle and turned to run: "What kind of lesson are you teaching, do you even know how to fight? With those skinny arms and legs, besides being longer than most people, what other advantage do you have—you're really driving me crazy."

"That brat gave me a pot of lousy flowers, what did he give you before he left?" Ray Jones got angrier the more he thought about it. "No, this doesn't even count as a gift, at most it's foster care."

Ethan Young looked up at the power lines, as if remembering things from the past, the corners of his mouth lifting in a smile: "A Rubik's Cube."

Ray Jones: "Huh?"

Ethan Young said, "A bit better than you, Belle gave me a Rubik's Cube before leaving."

Yvonne Shaw wasn't actually very good at cooking. Her dishes looked nice but always had a unique taste, and she often forgot to add seasoning.

"The taste is just... amazing, so good I can't even describe it," Ray Jones swallowed a bite of greens, "but I have a question for you. Since you don't put salt in your cooking, why do you make us go to the shop to buy it for you?"

Yvonne Shaw couldn't believe it: "Did I forget to add it? Impossible, I felt like I really outdid myself this time, I was careful with every step."

Ethan Young said, "Why don't you try it yourself?"

In the end, this meal didn't even meet the basic standard of "full," and they had to order crayfish takeout to save the day.

"Come on, cheers—" After a few drinks, Aunt May was practically ready to stand on the table, one leg thrown over a chair, patting her chest, "Drink, drink up! Little Ethan starts school tomorrow, everyone say a few words."

Ethan Young reached out and moved the plate full of shrimp shells away from in front of Yvonne Shaw, afraid she'd bump into it by accident.

Ray Jones was the first to stand up with a glass of water: "Boss Young, let me go first, sending you my best wishes, I hope you at Liyang East High"

"Four High?" Ethan Young couldn't hold back when he heard that, laughing as he kicked him, "Four my ass, I'm at Westlake High."

Liyang West High has been around for over sixty years and is fairly well-known in city a.

Although the teaching staff is average and the college entrance rate isn't high. It's located in the suburbs—put nicely, it's a quiet, peaceful place with good air quality for studying, but in reality, it's right next to a few newly built, second-rate technical schools, making its location rather awkward.

But the campus itself is quite well built, and in recent years they've been renovating the teaching buildings, so it doesn't look "run-down" at all. After all, city a is a famous big city, and even the suburbs are bustling, with thriving commercial streets.

The school gate is grand and imposing. Looking in from the entrance, aside from the greenery and shrubs, the most eye-catching thing is the bronze statue in the center of the small plaza—Rodin's "The Thinker." The marble base and the bronze sculpture are asphalt-colored and gleaming.

On the base, the school motto is engraved in neat small script: An innocent heart.

Just four simple characters, gilded, shining in the sunlight.

On the day of returning to school, the campus was lively.

Many freshmen came to register, and a big banner hung at the entrance—Welcome new first-year students to the Westlake High family, may you make progress in your studies and create brilliance together.

The second-year students were mostly crowded around the announcement wall at the entrance, checking the class assignments. It was packed, everyone sweating, and after a while, they didn't know which line they were looking at, but all gasped in unison: "What's up with Class 3, Grade 2?"

"Class 3, Grade 2? Damn, that's wild, is this a battlefield?"

"Thank god I'm in Class 5."

"Why do I suddenly feel a chill?"

"Two school bullies in one class? What are they thinking, trying to blow up the school?"

"Ethan Young, Henry Howard—damn, that's explosive."

Their year, about to start second year, had over a dozen classes when they entered first year, but because the new teaching building's construction was delayed, they had to split into two groups, squeezed into the east and west buildings, facing each other from afar.

Although the two buildings were designed as a connected structure, with a corridor between them for teachers and students to move around, students from the two buildings basically didn't interact.

And among them, there just happened to be two tough characters—

East building: Henry Howard, West building: Ethan Young.

The group of students chattered away, everyone talking at once, until they all fell silent.

Only the word "scary" remained in their minds.

Those who were actually assigned to Class 3, Grade 2, were even more terrified: This year is doomed, those two are both legendary "bad boys" who wouldn't bat an eye at murder.

"Bad boy" Ethan Young had no idea what was going on. He dragged his suitcase, planning to drop his things off at the dorm before going to class to get his books.

Grace Miller wanted to walk him into the dorm building and see his room, but Ethan Young suddenly remembered he had a whole set of unfinished "Five Three" practice books spread out on his desk—not a good look.

The dorm was for two people, but he'd always lived alone.

Westlake High had a relaxed school culture. Since they encouraged students to board, they were very considerate about dorm arrangements—for example, students could change rooms at any time until they were satisfied, so there was no need to worry about roommate conflicts. If you didn't get along, you could just move.

So Ethan Young had never even met any of his previous roommates. As soon as people heard the name Ethan Young, they avoided him—no one dared to live with him.

Ethan Young had just dragged his suitcase in when a boy with round glasses and a buzz cut ran up from downstairs. Round Glasses rushed to the door of the dorm opposite Ethan Young's and stopped.

Round Glasses knocked on that dorm door for ages: "—Bro Henry, are you there, Bro Henry?"

No response.

"Is this the right dorm? Suddenly saying we're boarding, are they messing with me?" Round Glasses muttered to himself for a while, then knocked again, discovering the door wasn't even locked. With a creak, it opened: ""

"I'm coming in!"

Round Glasses pushed the door open and went in, looked around, and saw someone on the bed to the right.

Henry Howard squinted, still sleepy, sitting on the bed with his back against the wall. He reached for a box of candy from the headboard: "What's all the noise?"

Round Glasses said mysteriously, "Bro Henry, big news, did you see the class assignment list? Damn, the whole grade is in an uproar."

"Didn't see it," Henry Howard picked out an orange one, quickly unwrapped the lollipop, and popped it in his mouth, "Class assignments, how else could they split us? What's so interesting about that?"

Round Glasses was stunned, momentarily forgetting he had big news: "Am I seeing things? What's that, a Zhenzhi Bang? Are you eating a lollipop?"

Henry Howard said, "Trying to quit smoking lately."

After that, seeing Round Glasses still staring at him like an idiot, Henry Howard added, "What, you want one too?"

"No, no, no, I'm good." Round Glasses waved his hands.

Henry Howard bit the candy to pieces, the stick still in his mouth, the sweetness a bit overwhelming: "So, what's your big news?"

Round Glasses finally remembered his mission and slapped his thigh: "Damn, almost forgot. Bro Henry, this year is wild, some god-level move—Ethan Young is in your class."

"Who?"

"That Ethan Young from the west building."

In the Grade 2 teachers' office.

"Who did the class assignments this year? Was it random by computer or the grade director? You can't just assign classes like this." The teachers, though they'd known about the assignments in advance, still couldn't accept it.

A female teacher stood at the water dispenser: "There are only three academic classes this year, and they're divided by grades. Class 3 is at the bottom, so I'm not surprised it turned out this way."

Liyang West High is an art-focused school. They can't compete with other schools academically, but with art, they still get decent college entrance rates. In first year, the school encouraged everyone to pursue the arts, and in second year, they simply split the academic and art students into separate classes.

The female teacher finished getting her water and added, "Those two kids might be mischievous, but they're still just kids. How do we know it won't work out before we've even taught them? Maybe things won't be as bad as we think."

"You think you can handle it?" Another female teacher, who'd been silent at her desk, finally couldn't hold back, her face dark. "If you really think you can, why don't you take the class?"

The teacher at the water dispenser fell silent.

"Ms. Shaw, don't be upset, Little Luke was just making conversation," a few other teachers, seeing the tension, went over to comfort her. "This year's class assignments really are too much. No one would want to be the homeroom teacher for Class 3."

Chelsea Shaw, homeroom teacher of Class 3, Grade 2. When she first saw the class list, she almost fainted from anger.