“It’s not mine, it’s those people’s.”

“They blocked you alone and even brought knives?!” Anna Walker sucked in a cold breath and immediately looked him up and down. “I’ve always heard the people from the neighboring school have no bottom line, but I didn’t think they’d be this shameless!”

Grace Bennett didn’t say anything and pulled out his phone from his pocket.

Luckily, it wasn’t broken.

Over twenty WeChat notifications flashed on the screen—he could guess right away it was messages from the group chat Anna Walker had created. He couldn’t be bothered to check.

Next to him, Anna Walker was still chatting away. He pressed the voice message button again and snorted, “Who else could it be? That group from the neighboring school. Didn’t two of them come near our school last time to extort people? Tried to extort us, too. We fought them right then and there. Turns out they’re the lackeys of that buzz-cut boss from next door. Once he found out, he said every time he sees us, he’ll beat us up. You guys didn’t see how scared he was just now—got beaten up by Grace Bennett and didn’t even dare make a sound.”

Anna Walker put down his phone and turned to see Grace Bennett pressing a tissue to the cut at the corner of his mouth.

He grimaced. “Hiss—tsk…”

Grace Bennett paused. “Did you get hurt on your face?”

“It looks painful.” Anna Walker thought for a moment and stood up. “How about we go to the hospital?”

“Sure, hurry up and call a car,” Grace Bennett jerked his chin, “wait two more minutes and it’ll have healed.”

“…” Anna Walker sat back down. “Of all places, it had to be your face. School starts tomorrow, and if Sarah sees your face, she’ll definitely scold you.”

Sarah was their homeroom teacher, surname Zhuang. Everyone in the class liked to call her by her given name in private.

Speaking of school starting, Grace Bennett instinctively glanced toward the school.

“Why is the school gate open?” Grace Bennett raised an eyebrow.

“The seniors are having class inside. They start school half a month early.” Anna Walker sipped his milk tea. “There are some in our grade who started early too—seems the school picked a few dozen top students to form some kind of winter break class. It sucks to be a top student.”

Grace Bennett looked away and replied with a noncommittal “oh.”

As school was about to end, the barbecue stall across the street started up, and the smell of cumin-coated grilled meat drifted over from across the road.

Anna Walker had left in such a rush he hadn’t eaten dinner. He sniffed the air and couldn’t sit still. “You must be tired after fighting for so long. Come on, let’s get something to eat.”

“I’m not eating, you go by yourself.” Grace Bennett waved him off.

“Alright, wait for me, I’ll bring some back.”

His phone kept buzzing in his pocket, the constant dinging getting on his nerves. Grace Bennett opened the group chat for a glance—Anna Walker could brag about buying barbecue until the chat hit 99+ messages.

He turned on Do Not Disturb, and as he stuffed the phone back in his pocket, his hand brushed against something metallic.

Grace Bennett paused for two seconds, then pulled out the black folding military knife again.

-

At dismissal, students in school uniforms trickled out of the school gate.

Two girls walked out arm in arm, chatting and laughing.

“How did you do on this pop quiz?”

“Don’t even mention it, it was so hard. I just guessed on the last big question. What about you?”

“Me? I’m probably at the bottom again. Sigh, how did I even get into the winter break advanced class? I’m not even in the same world as you geniuses!” She stretched with a big yawn. “Whatever, once school officially starts tomorrow, I’ll go back to the regular class and be a slacker again. I want to get a hot milk tea, want to come?”

The other girl nodded, but as she turned and took two steps toward the milk tea shop, her friend suddenly grabbed her sleeve and yanked her back.

“What’s wrong?” the girl asked, startled.

“Forget it, let’s not go…” Her friend stared fixedly at the milk tea shop, lowering her voice. “Look who’s sitting there!”

She followed her friend’s gaze toward the shop.

This milk tea shop had been next to the school for years, tasty and cheap, and always packed after school.

But right now, even though there were still customers ordering, everyone just took their drinks to go. Outside, only one person was sitting.

He sat there lazily, long legs stretched out, messy bangs nearly brushing his eyelashes. Because his skin was so pale, the bruises on his face looked especially stark, with blood at the corner of his mouth.

Everyone else was in neat winter uniforms, but he wore a filthy white hoodie.

He had his head down, fiddling with a folding military knife. The blade was out, and he was absentmindedly running it along the back of his other hand, as if testing how sharp it was.

The girl didn’t know him, but instinctively took a step back. “Who is he…”

“Grace Bennett!” her friend whispered. “From Class Seven!”

“He looks like he’s hurt?”

“Of course, he probably just got into a fight.” Her friend was incredulous. “You’ve never heard of Grace Bennett?”

“No,” the girl shook her head, then thought for a moment. “But I think I’ve heard his name mentioned a lot in the criticism announcements at the flag-raising ceremonies.”