Every mealtime was always the liveliest time on campus.
Rong Yu waited patiently in the classroom for a while, only leaving after the teaching building had emptied out.
He wrapped himself up tightly and walked against the flow of people toward the dormitory.
The dormitory was near the cafeteria, and compared to the cheerful sounds of laughter and chatter coming from there, the silent dormitory felt out of place— just like Rong Yu himself wandering through the school at this hour.
As the only boarder in the class with the fewest students in the entire grade, Rong Yu now lived with boarders from other classes on the fourth floor of the dormitory in a large shared room.
There were eight people in total, all individuals leftover from other classes like him.
At first, when he moved into this dorm, Rong Yu was quite anxious. Due to family reasons and his naturally introverted personality since childhood, he wasn’t good at interacting with peers.
Fortunately, having grown up in an orphanage, he was not only unaccustomed but also skilled at living independently and understood well how to survive in communal living.
—Anyway, high school’s most important thing is studying. I spend most of my time in the classroom; I just go back to the dorm to sleep.
As long as I keep my presence low, speak little, avoid making mistakes, and don’t cause conflicts with roommates, three years won’t be unbearable.
That was how he thought at the start, but he hadn’t expected that this patchwork dorm atmosphere would turn out unexpectedly harmonious.
There were no quarrels, people were considerate, and though they knew Rong Yu was introverted, no one excluded him; instead, they actively helped him integrate.
A year passed, and Rong Yu slowly relaxed his initial wariness and gradually was willing to participate in dorm activities.
For someone who had only recently been assigned to the class and had yet to embark on their journey of crossing over, his seven roommates felt closer and more trustworthy than classmates from Class 9, Grade 11.
Unfortunately, the gap of “crossing over” was ultimately an unbridgeable divide among them.
Rong Yu never liked to dwell on the various past events in Parnaki. Like Yu Zhi, he was one of the few in the class who had experienced unimaginable suffering.
Though that ordeal eventually made him who he was, it also became a nightmare he couldn’t let go of for five hundred years.
If it weren’t for Rui Teacher, he might have deliberately distanced himself from even his classmates, avoiding contact with anyone.
Thinking of Rui Hang, Rong Yu’s eyes softened slightly. No one understood the significance of everything Rui Hang did more than he did.
Although the students in the class had all eventually become famous figures, not every crossing over journey went smoothly.
Even if theirs couldn’t be described as “absolutely horrific” like his and Yu Zhi’s, each had their own hardships.
Back then, they abandoned the teenage fantasies of the “middle schooler” phase, holding onto a mixture of confusion about the future, fear of unfamiliar environments, or an inflated confidence from changes in their bloodlines and surging power.
Their humanity diminished, and they were unwilling to reach out to other Earthlings, doubting everything around them.
Rui Teacher suppressed some of the overly arrogant students by force, moving beyond his identity as a “teacher” to curb their drifting values and bring back their humanity.
He continuously mediated the relationships among students and insisted on using “class” rather than “organization” as a framework, reminding them to always remember their dual identity as crossovers and classmates.
He also gathered students skilled in magic and technology research to develop what they jokingly called “Q-Bao,” an innovative magic that imprints magic circuits in their spiritual bodies and connects them through the Spiritual Sea, enabling real-time “linked” chats.
Taking Bai Luo’s suggestion, they modeled it after an Earth novel’s organization called the “Tarot Society,” holding weekly class meetings in the Spiritual Sea to share information and strengthen bonds.
It could be said that Class 9’s unity today was inseparable from Rui Teacher’s efforts.
Because of all these factors, Rong Yu completely let down his guard and allowed the students of Class 9 and Rui Hang to stand alongside the orphanage director in his heart as the only two “family” he recognized.
Sadly, he couldn’t restore the intimacy with his roommates.
Even though they had never changed and to them it had only been a day since they parted, Rong Yu could no longer easily overcome the fear in his heart or interact with them the way he once did.
Five hundred years was, after all, an incredibly long time.
He had to explain everything clearly to them… no, first he should apologize.
Rong Yu scolded himself inwardly as he looked at the familiar surroundings of the room, his mood growing heavier.
He’d heard Yu Zhi had immediately contacted the art teacher she was close to on her first day back on Earth, beginning to change her fate.
The other students didn’t remain stagnant either; they adapted to Earth life while exploring future possibilities.
Everyone had grown a lot, except for him, who had regressed and even pushed away the friendships he had once treasured.
So embarrassing, Rong Yu, you can’t be like this.
Why can’t you move on?
He berated himself inside, but the more he forced it, the more his gaze filled with fear and confusion.
If he couldn’t return to Parnaki, what would his future be? Rely on his friends to muddle through life or follow the usual routine of exams, school, and work?
Could he adapt to this society?
Rong Yu lowered his head and looked at the open palm of his hand.
The pale fingers were slender and bony, seeming somewhat thin, but as if stained with blood that couldn’t be washed away.
He knew nothing but killing.
“Head, what should I do…”
Suddenly, a slightly warm object pressed against his cheek unexpectedly, and a pleasant scent of grains drifted from the bag, pulling Rong Yu back from his self-absorption.
He stared blankly at the boy who had suddenly appeared in front of him. After a long moment, he let out a short “ah” and stepped back in surprise.
“Y-you, how did you…”
The Head here? Did that mean he had just been overheard talking to himself?
Zhou Xun was carrying a plastic bag that seemed to contain two steamed buns.
Having seen Zhou Xun before with his greatsword and shield, always decisive in battle, now dressed in a student uniform holding buns and tea eggs made Rong Yu feel a strong sense of incongruity.
Sensing Rong Yu’s unease, Zhou Xun didn’t continue the awkward topic but smiled gently and offered him a bun: “Weren’t you moving dorms? I guessed you’d come by around this time. Here, you must be hungry. Unfortunately, the convenience store didn’t have anything light enough for you to eat. Just have a few bites first. After school, I’ll secretly take you out for some late-night snacks.”
Then he ruffled Rong Yu’s hair as if comforting a restless black cat: “I already explained things to your roommates. They understand, so don’t put pressure on yourself.”
“…” Rong Yu looked down at the bun in his hand but didn’t feel much better from Zhou Xun’s consolation. After a while, he muttered gloomily, “Head, am I useless?”
His grip on the bag tightened. “Everyone else is moving forward, but I…”
“Don’t talk like that, wasting energy tearing yourself down,” Zhou Xun interrupted gently but firmly. “No one has the right to expect you to still wholeheartedly embrace the whole world after everything you’ve been through.”
“But…”
“People always grow up. Yours is just a bit slower. You’ve already been very brave.”
“I’m not brave at all.” Rong Yu pursed his lips and shook his head, but his gloom visibly eased. He looked up at the boy before him with steady, admiring eyes. “The Head is the brave one.”
Then, taking a deep breath, he said earnestly and clearly, “Head, you really are a good person!”
Zhou Xun: “……”
He gave Rong Yu a wry pat on the shoulder and said no more. Only when Rong Yu turned around and buried his head in tidying up did a trace of loneliness flicker in his eyes.
Brave… huh?
Zhou Xun chuckled quietly to himself and shook his head.
The one who needs to take a step forward isn’t just Rong Yu, it’s also me.
……
It was time for another evening self-study session.
With the Mid-Autumn Festival party and the sports meet approaching, despite some unpleasant things having happened during the day (referring to Rui Hang), Rui Hang magnanimously communicated with other teachers to reduce some assignments for the students and freed up the evening study time for them to discuss freely.
“Compared to scriptwriting, I think there’s something more important,” said Class Monitor Su Mingya seriously from the podium. “What does everyone think about the costumes for the performance?”
“…Costumes are necessary?” Gao Shu, the lead actor, was a bit surprised. “Does it have to be this formal?”
“There will be leaders watching, and this concerns our class’s spirit, so everything must be perfect,” said Ouwena. “Since we’re doing a Western fantasy magic-mod version, the costumes should mainly be European medieval style.”
“I have a suggestion.” Bai Luo raised his hand. “How about Parnaki’s costumes?”
The classroom instantly fell silent, then Bai Luo spoke confidently: “They don’t need to be complicated, just simple versions based on what we usually wear, imitating our memories. Besides the performance, we can also use them for the sports meet opening ceremony.”
Bai Luo’s suggestion was undeniably tempting, but Su Mingya was a bit worried.
“Wouldn’t that be a bit too flashy?”
Parnaki’s clothing style was between European medieval and Western fantasy MMORPGs. It had the gaudy extravagance of a game and the complexity and restraint of court fashion.
Later, because of the trendy culture they brought from their crossing over, it sparked a new fashion revolution, making the style more diverse— in fact, compared to new political systems and scientific inventions, these new ideas were the greatest impact they made in Parnaki, subtly infiltrating every corner of the vast world.
Many students shared Su Mingya’s concerns. To ease their doubts, Bai Luo chose a video related to a high school sports meet and played it on the classroom’s touchscreen.
Cosplay, Qinghai Shake, Heavenly Court meetings, cross-dressing girl group dances, even Ultraman battling Balala the Magical Fairy— the main theme was chaotic fun.
Compared to these antics, their Parnaki costumes seemed somewhat plain.
“Times have changed,” Su Mingya murmured.
“Class Monitor, it’s your thoughts that are outdated!” Bai Luo teased.
“Sigh, yes, my thoughts are old-fashioned,” Su Mingya admitted and nodded. “I was worried people might think our class is a bit too cheesy.”
“Do these things only get accepted after the sports meet?” Lin Yuan said softly.
Class 9 students: “……”
The painful past was silently ignored as everyone continued discussing costume details.
“Let’s deduct expenses from the class funds first. If it’s not enough, Rui Teacher will cover the rest,” Su Mingya said. “Let’s assign this to Yaya and Jiajia.”
Zhao Yaya and Zhang Jiajia— respectively the class’s financial secretary and the art class representative skilled in costume design who had thrived in Parnaki— were the perfect fit.
They nodded without objection and cheerfully accepted the task.
“Props will be handled by those not acting. Jing Shu, that’s on you for purchasing,” Su Mingya continued. “The script is still as previously planned, Shen Qiting and Lin Yuan in charge. Lin Yuan, how’s your brother’s side?”
Lin Yuan sat in the audience and gave an OK sign.
As the only student in the class with ties to the entertainment industry, having an insider willing to guide them was reassuring even if their script was heavily modified.
“For the sports meet opening ceremony entrance, Bai Luo and Zhou Xun, I’ll leave it to you.”
Though Bai Luo loved to slack off, he didn’t refuse for something like this where he could have fun. After agreeing, he said a little regretfully, “If our magic was still active, our class would definitely be the coolest in the whole venue.” He couldn’t help but fantasize: “The moment we enter, the heavens and earth change, the winds and clouds surge, our Parnaki underlings descend from the sky and kneel before us: ‘The three-year term has arrived; welcome the return of the Dragon King.’”
Song Mingzhe: “……”
“Hahaha, that’s way too cheesy!” Lin Yuan laughed heartily at Bai Luo’s imagination. “I’m not doing that—it’s too embarrassing.”
“Well, you never know what the future holds,” Gao Shu, who hated being in the spotlight, remarked casually.
Lin Yuan: “……”
Class 9 students: “……”
Twenty-three pairs of eyes fixed on Shen Qiting, burning with expectation and earnestness: “That kind of thing definitely won’t happen, right?!”
Shen Qiting pushed up her glasses and said, “Who can say for sure?”
Class 9 students: “……”
Suddenly, everyone really wanted to shout that phrase again.
—That kind of thing, no thanks!