Final Exam.
It is the ultimate challenge of a semester, the last shackle to break free from.
Once the bell rings, the students can finally declare their release from a term of torment and rush toward the longest vacation of the year—summer break.
Yet, there are still thirty minutes left until the war ends.
The final subject is Biology, and the Homeroom Teacher has said more than once that Biology is the most liberal of the sciences, and also the one where losing points is least tolerated.
Shen Yao finished the test paper early. After checking it over, he waited only for the bell to collect the exams.
He felt as if time in the summer dragged on the slowest, perhaps even the laws of thermal expansion and contraction worked on time itself.
Bored out of his mind, he stared up at the green Ceiling Fan atop the Classroom, its blades long neglected.
Caked with solidified dust, it spun desperately, delivering the only trace of cool air to the sweltering Classroom.
When he was a child, Shen Yao had been terrified of the Ceiling Fan above the Classroom.
Its blades spun as swiftly as flying Blades, connected only by a few wires.
If the fan was turned up, it seemed to sway, ready to come crashing down.
Back then, his greatest fear was sitting right beneath the fan, imagining it falling and slicing him into a headless little man—startling and shrieking.
As he grew older, he understood the fan’s blades weren’t sharp enough to cut off someone’s head—at worst, it might leave a big lump.
Still, in his mind, those spinning blades turned into flashing, shining knife edges.
Shen Yao pressed the top of his ballpoint pen repeatedly, his movement gradually slowing, because he noticed that the green Ceiling Fan seemed truly about to fall.
At first, only one cable snapped. Besides Shen Yao, no one else noticed.
The rapidly spinning fan tilted downward, just one step away from crashing down.
Shen Yao opened his mouth, wanting to warn the classmate sitting below, or the proctor, but his throat was so parched that not a sound came out.
All he could do was watch helplessly as the spinning fan suddenly plunged down.
The worst that could happen was that the boy beneath it would end up with a huge bump on his head; perhaps the school would cover some medical fees, or maybe not.
A sudden flash of light streaked before Shen Yao’s eyes, so glaring he had to turn away.
Yet in the next instant, he seemed to realize its source: sunlight, reflecting off the fan blades.
But… why was there a reflection?
The answer was not concealed.
The very next moment, the fan hurtled down toward the students below, the spinning blades transforming into razor-sharp Blades, instantly slicing the heads of three students into an unrecognizable mess, like lemons being cut apart, or perhaps like cracked watermelons.
It wasn’t over; even after falling, the fan kept spinning, becoming a top that spun through the Classroom, slicing students who couldn’t react in time into strips of meat.
Flesh and blood rained down, splattering Shen Yao’s face with fresh blood.
He stared in a daze at the fan, now gradually slowing, at the disfigured corpses on the floor, and at the thick, curtain-like bloodstains coating the window panes.
Slowly, he reached up and plucked from his forehead an eyeball, cut cleanly in half and sliding down his face.
On that fan, three arm-length, finely sharpened Blades had been fastened.
Now, those three murderous Blades had become jagged from the massacre, bits of flesh wedged in their serrated edges—that was why it had finally stopped its rampage.
Who… did this?
Screams and howls filled Shen Yao’s ears. The stench of blood was overwhelming.
He wanted to look back at Qiao Yunxue’s reaction, but all he saw was a red-haired head, cleaved neatly in two.
“Pa!”
Shen Yao jolted awake. The ballpoint pen slipped from his hand and clattered to the floor, catching the attention of the proctor.
“If you’re finished, check it over again. Don’t drift off.” High school teachers always spoke this way, leaving out the subject.
Shen Yao forced a sheepish grin, bent to pick up his pen, and heard a creak.
Looking up, he saw the green Ceiling Fan still intact above, and none of his classmates injured by Blades—as if all that he’d just witnessed had been a hallucination.
He glanced back and saw Qiao Yunxue slumped over her desk, not even holding her pen. This exam probably didn’t matter to her at all.
He turned his attention to the shaky Ceiling Fan, but saw no glint of metal. Though it looked unsteady, it remained firmly in place until the Biology exam ended.
He rubbed his eyes. Was it just a hallucination from overthinking lately? Should he go to the hospital?
The Homeroom Teacher recited a few holiday reminders—water safety, electrical safety, fire safety, the usual three—then clapped his hands.
“Alright, enjoy your vacation. Exam results will be announced next semester. Dismissed!”
“Woohoo~” The students erupted in cheers. Some, eager to leave, grabbed their backpacks and headed straight for the door.
Qiao Yunxue glanced at Shen Yao, picked up her bag, and left as well.
At school, the two of them still kept their distance—fewer complications with the teachers that way.
As Shen Yao packed his bag, he peered out the window, waiting until he saw Cheng Orange emerge from the neighboring Classroom before hurrying after her.
“Cheng Cheng!”
Cheng Orange turned back, saw Shen Yao, and forced a smile, but couldn’t help searching behind him, as if looking for someone else.
Shen Yao scratched the back of his neck, unsure how to begin.
Ever since they’d run into each other at the mall last weekend, Cheng Cheng had been avoiding him all week.
She must be angry. Should he apologize? For deceiving her? Or explain it was an accident? Did he even have the right to apologize?
But Cheng Orange’s reaction was nothing like he expected. She gave him a sly grin and nudged him with her elbow. “You’ve got some nerve, huh.”
“Eh?” She wasn’t mad?
Cheng Cheng grinned. “Didn’t think you could quietly win over Qiao Yunxue—now you’ve got yourself a rich backer.”
Shen Yao was confused. “I thought you were mad at me. You’ve been avoiding me lately… and that day…”
Cheng Cheng laughed and cut him off.
“What are you talking about? My good buddy landed a big fish—I’m happy for you! It’s just, now that you and Qiao Yunxue are together, I didn’t want Miss High-and-Mighty to get the wrong idea by seeing me too close to you. That’s why I ran off that day, and gave you and Qiao Yunxue some space this week. See? I’m a good friend, right?”
Is… that so?
Her explanation made sense, yet Shen Yao still felt something was off—though he couldn’t say what.
Maybe it was a “little white lie” to maintain some dignity.
He still wanted to clear things up. “You misunderstood. Qiao Yunxue and I aren’t what you think.”
Cheng Cheng seemed distracted, glancing past Shen Yao repeatedly.
“Looking for someone?”
“Dodo said she’d ask me to play badminton after school. I’m worried she’ll forget.” Cheng Cheng replied,
“Come on, no need to hide it from me. For someone like Qiao Yunxue to go shopping with you, and…”
She made a hugging gesture, “how could it not be that kind of relationship? Qiao Yunxue’s a pain, but if that’s your choice, I trust your judgment.”
Shen Yao said anxiously, “Really, we’re not…” More like comrades than lovers?
He did like Qiao Yunxue, but she clearly had her own goals, and he wasn’t the type for unrequited feelings.
If they were to be called a couple, both he and Qiao Yunxue would be exasperated.
Cheng Cheng squinted and laughed.
“Shen Yao, you don’t have to pretend with me~ I know you. Still trying to fool me? Haha… Eh, Dodo! Dodo! She’s out. I gotta go, Shen Yao, see you next time!”
Without another word, she dashed off after another girl.
Before leaving, she suddenly turned back, catching sight of Shen Yao standing bewildered in the crowd.
For some reason, her heart softened. She shouted, “Shen Yao, if you ever need anything, remember, Tyrannosaurus Team is always on your side~” and made a call-me gesture.
Shen Yao watched her figure disappear into the flow of students after school, a hard-to-describe sense of loss filling him.
It felt like he’d gained something, yet lost even more.
Tyrannosaurus Team… it had always been just the two of them.