Chapter 16: Young in Years, Cunning at Heart

Why is it three hours again? Could it be that the game’s difficulty has increased, so the time limit has as well?

I only took note of that in passing, though; what really matters is the content of this round’s game.

The rules say “died in the class,” which means the victim is right here, in our own class.

Hatred? Who in our class could possibly hate someone else so much that it would lead to death?

Like Li Yizhong and Xiao Zheng? No—that can’t be it. Given my previous experiences, it’s unlikely the situation will repeat itself in the same way.

So what could it be?

At that moment, the other students were still enthusiastically welcoming the new chemistry teacher—the boys with excitement, the girls with jealousy.

Among them, I was the only one who sat quiet and withdrawn, clearly out of place.

Perhaps it was this sharp contrast that caught the new teacher’s eye.

“You there, what’s your name?” she asked.

As soon as she spoke, everyone turned to look at me, and I stared back blankly.

Then she spoke again. “Class has started—please put away your phone.”

I hurriedly stashed my phone and glanced at our homeroom teacher, who was glaring at me.

“Yes, teacher!” I replied.

The homeroom teacher didn’t stay long. After the new teacher finished her introduction, she made a few formal remarks and left the classroom.

The new teacher began her lesson.

I had to admit, her arrival brought an unprecedented energy to the class. Even students who never listened in chemistry suddenly sat up straight, as if listening to her was a rare pleasure.

For some reason, this beautiful teacher lectured with fiery enthusiasm, and the atmosphere in the classroom felt like a group of male monkeys watching a female in heat. The air was thick with hormones.

People say a person’s name reflects their character, but this new teacher was the opposite—anything but cold. She should be called Ms. Fiery, not Ms. Frost.

Yet I remained the same. The chemistry lesson was a muddle to me, a patch of green in a sea of flowers. I gave up trying to follow, pretending to listen while my mind dwelled on the game’s clue.

“The most beautiful things often hide unknown dangers...”

What does that mean?

Based on previous rounds, I knew that these hints were usually the key.

But what is “the most beautiful thing”? I felt frustrated. How should a high schooler like me know what that is?

Or perhaps, what’s considered most beautiful is different for everyone. For some, it’s getting into their dream university. For others, meeting their soulmate.

For boys, maybe it’s marrying a beautiful, wealthy woman and reaching the pinnacle of life. That’s the ultimate happiness!

For girls, perhaps it’s meeting their Prince Charming—a handsome, wealthy, virtuous young man.

But would something like that happen to high schoolers? This isn’t a novel; it’s real life!

Even if such things did occur, how would it tie into hatred and death?

“You, the daydreamer!”

Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t realize I’d been caught by the new teacher.

Well, I was the only one sitting quietly; it’s no surprise I was singled out.

I stood up and looked at the alluring new teacher, unable to meet her eyes.

She didn’t seem pleased, folding her arms and accentuating her curves.

“You don’t seem too happy to see me,” she said.

I shook my head, saying nothing.

She sighed. “Fine. Every class has a troublemaker or two. Come to my office after class.”

I felt wronged. I hadn’t said a word or made any trouble in class—how did I become the troublemaker?

I was about to protest when the new teacher shot me a fierce look. I had no choice but to sit down.

Just then, a few boys in the class chimed in, “Teacher, I’m a troublemaker too. Should I come to your office after class?”

“Me too!”

“Nonsense—I’m the real troublemaker!”

And so on.

Seeing the boys scramble for her attention, the new teacher smiled. “Alright, you’re all troublemakers—but I don’t like troublemakers!”

At that, the boys fell silent.

Damn! Poverty really limits my imagination. When did these guys become so eager?

I noticed our homeroom teacher peering in from outside the window, a strange look on her face. She glanced down at herself, then at the new teacher at the podium.

It wasn’t hard to see she was comparing herself with the newcomer. I hadn’t expected the new teacher to even affect the homeroom teacher.

Maybe ugliness limits my imagination too!

But thinking about it, the previous string of deaths had left the class under a suffocating gloom. The arrival of this new teacher brought a breath of fresh air, dispelling the oppressive mood.

That was a good thing, not a bad one.

But for me, nothing changed—except that I’d been called out.

After sitting down, I quietly observed my classmates. Some of the girls seemed annoyed, but there was nothing suspicious.

“Died from hatred”—does that mean two people hated each other, and one killed the other?

But how deep must that hatred run, for someone to kill?

After class, I thought the teacher would forget about earlier, but clearly, I was wrong.

As soon as the bell rang, she walked over to my desk, tapped it with her delicate fingers, and said gently, “Come to my office, please.”

I had to admit, this beautiful teacher could stir a man’s imagination; even her words were laced with charm.

With many envious eyes on me, I followed Ms. Frost out.

For the first time, I felt what it was like to be the center of attention. Boys whistled, others looked at me curiously.

At her office, she sat down at her desk, and her elevated posture forced my gaze toward her impressive cleavage.

My face burned. I wanted to look, but didn’t dare, so I shifted my eyes elsewhere.

But then I noticed a file on her desk—with my name on it.

Why did she have my file there? Was she investigating me?

While I was pondering this, she spoke.

“Your name is Tong Yang, right?” Her tone was cold, the gentleness from earlier gone.

The sudden change made me uneasy; she was clearly a woman with many faces.

“Yes,” I replied.

She picked up my file, glanced at it, then at me, her lips curling in a playful smile.

“Severely unbalanced grades. Don’t you realize how serious that is?”

Seeing her teasing smile, I suddenly understood something, and smiled back. “Unbalanced grades, yes. But teacher, isn’t that none of your concern?”

She was taken aback by my retort, then smiled charmingly, stood up, and leaned close to my ear, whispering, “Then what should I care about? Your health? Or your... physical well-being?”

A shiver ran down my spine—her move was more than a little awkward for me.

I stepped back and said, “I think it’s best if you don’t care about anything—wouldn’t want to invite trouble.”

“Oh? Bold words!”

“It’s not boldness. No matter who replaces Ye Xinran, the result would be the same!”

“How do you know I’m replacing Ye Xinran?” she asked, startled.

I smiled. “So you admit it?”

My words made her realize she’d slipped up. She put away her playful expression and returned to her seat.

“Not bad. No wonder Ye Xinran said you were smart. But I’m not Ye Xinran, so don’t treat me like her.”

“You’re definitely not the same. You’re way more...” I glanced at her impressive figure but didn’t finish.

She noticed, and instead of covering up, deliberately leaned forward. “Quite a precocious kid! Go back to class.”

I was surprised. “That’s it?”

“What else?”

“I thought you’d have some questions for me.”

She snorted. “You wouldn’t answer anyway. Besides, telling you would only get you killed.”

Hearing that, I said nothing more. I pulled out my phone, opened my WeChat QR code, and had her add me.

She didn’t hesitate.

I didn’t expect her to find anything, but her background was more special than Ye Xinran’s—her help might come in handy.

Leaving her office, I headed back to class. On the stairs, I overheard a familiar argument below.

An argument? That immediately made me think of hatred.

I peeked down and saw Wang Xiyue and Lu Yuchen from our class.

Why were those two arguing?

I listened in—Wang Xiyue seemed to be blaming Lu Yuchen, who was anxiously trying to explain.

“Xiyue, listen, everyone likes beautiful things, right? Besides, I just agreed with them, that’s all!”

“Hmph! I hate you!” Wang Xiyue spat, then stormed up the stairs toward the classroom.

I didn’t catch the whole thing, but it sounded like the kind of spat couples have.

Are they dating?

Does hatred born from love count? And isn’t love considered the most beautiful thing?

Could Wang Xiyue be the one?

But could it really be that simple? Thinking back on past games, it always seemed simple in hindsight—except I always overlooked it, or maybe... outsmarted myself?

Damn it, why am I thinking of Ms. Frost’s words now?