That pale, sickly face still bore that inscrutable, unruffled expression, as if everything happening before her was of no concern.
But Zhao Yingying keenly caught Huà Qí’ān’s gaze, steady and unwaveringly fixed on herself—an expression that sent a chill down her spine, the same look from before, as if she were staring at a clown.
Pretend all you want.
Zhao Yingying sneered inwardly.
There’ll be tears to shed soon enough.
She knew just how much Huà Qí’ān valued that scholarship—always sitting in the front row in every class, never missing a single session, volunteering tirelessly to rack up the required credits…
And now, this was the perfect moment for her revenge.
Yesterday afternoon, when the class committee’s dorm mates treated the new “dorm inspection group punishment” rule as gossip, a vicious plan immediately sprang to mind for Zhao Yingying.
She knew Huà Qí’ān all too well.
That seemingly meek and harmless roommate hid an arrogant pride that grated on her nerves.
Especially after the Chen Zhiyan incident, that resentment had reached its peak.
Why?
Why did Huà Qí’ān get to ride in Chen Zhiyan’s car?
Why did Chen Zhiyan see her differently?
Was it just because of that pitiful act she put on?
Jealousy gnawed viciously at her heart.
She was going to make Huà Qí’ān taste what it was like to fall from the clouds, to let her know who truly ruled this dorm.
So, she deliberately placed the brand-new electric cooker on the topmost shelf of the bookshelf—a spot both hidden and conspicuous.
She believed she had planned everything perfectly, calculated the dorm supervisor’s visit, prepared to feign resistance, and create the illusion that it couldn’t be hidden, drawing the teacher’s attention.
Even if Huà Qí’ān made a scene afterward, she could feign innocence, claim she had already hidden it well, and who knew the teacher’s eyes were so sharp?
Then shed a few tears, insist it was unintentional—who could punish her then?
The punishment decision had already come down: Huà Qí’ān’s scholarship was completely ruined.
A perfect plan.
Just the thought of it made Zhao Yingying struggle to suppress a smirk.
The dorm supervisor’s gaze scanned the bookshelf.
Zhao Yingying’s heart began to race; she could almost predict that the next moment, the supervisor would spot the cooker half-concealed by books and her expression would darken, declaring a “death sentence” on the entire dorm.
She furtively and expectantly glanced at Huà Qí’ān, wanting to catch even the slightest hint of panic or fear on her face.
But there was none.
Huà Qí’ān simply stood there quietly, not even a flicker of her eyelashes.
Her ink-black eyes were as calm as a bottomless cold pool, reflecting Zhao Yingying’s current frantic, clownish antics.
Why?
Why wasn’t she afraid at all?
Zhao Yingying’s smile froze, a strong unease gripping her.
Suddenly, she realized something and abruptly lifted her gaze, looking past the dorm supervisor’s shoulder toward the top of her own bookshelf…
The carefully set “trap” spot.
It was… completely empty.
Aside from a few crooked fashion magazines and a thin layer of dust on some empty paper boxes, there was nothing.
That silver electric cooker, which carried all her malice, had vanished without a trace.
Boom—
Zhao Yingying’s mind went blank, as if countless bees buzzed deafeningly in her ears.
How could this be?
The cooker?
Her cooker?!
She rubbed her eyes instinctively, thinking she must be mistaken.
But no matter how many times she looked, that spot was utterly vacant.
Cold sweat drenched her back in an instant.
She finally understood why Huà Qí’ān had looked at her that way.
It wasn’t a show of calm or bluffing.
It was…
A silent verdict passed by someone who had seen through every trick of a foolish clown.
At that moment, her gaze caught the casually draped trench coat on Huà Qí’ān’s seat.
It was no cheap garment.
The cut, the quality—it clearly wasn’t inexpensive.
Zhao Yingying’s pupils contracted sharply…
A terrifying thought struck her like lightning.
Huà Qí’ān had returned to the dorm this afternoon!
That trench coat wasn’t on the desk this morning after class when Huà Qí’ān left.
And by then, Huà Qí’ān was already gone.
The answer was obvious.
It was her!
Huà Qí’ān had taken her cooker!
“Excuse me, please move aside.”
The dorm supervisor’s impatient voice snapped Zhao Yingying back from her shock.
Having finished inspecting Zhao Yingying’s area, the supervisor was moving on to the next.
Zhao Yingying, dazed and weak in the knees, barely managed to step aside.
Her eyes burned into Huà Qí’ān with a poisonous hatred that seemed almost tangible.
The dorm supervisor carefully checked the entire room, from under the beds to the top of the wardrobes, even opening Li Xiaozhen’s “altar” drawer, but found nothing.
“You all are smart after all.”
The supervisor finally concluded, ticking a box in her notebook.
With that, she turned and clicked away in her heels, leaving.
The dorm door shut behind her with a dull thud, like a signal.
In that moment, the air completely froze.
All pretenses and reservations shattered the instant the teacher left.
“Huà… Qí… Ān!”
Zhao Yingying’s voice squeezed out through clenched teeth, each word like she was biting down to crush it.
She spun around fiercely, her reddened eyes glaring at Huà Qí’ān as if she wanted to devour her whole.
“Where’s my cooker? Did you take it?!”
She yelled, losing the sweet and charming facade she usually wore, her whole face twisted by rage.
He Yi shrank back slightly, looking at the two in a standoff, wanting to speak but too afraid.
Li Xiaozhen, who had just returned to the dorm, was startled by the sudden commotion but then ignored it, muttering to herself as she headed straight to her bed.
Faced with Zhao Yingying’s hysteria, Huà Qí’ān calmly, methodically unzipped her backpack, revealing textbooks and notebooks inside.
She lifted her eyes—those usually half-closed, lazily dreamy eyes now shone with startling clarity, devoid of any trace of meekness or concession.
“Yes.”
Her voice was soft, but like a sharp ice pick, it stabbed ruthlessly into Zhao Yingying’s heart.
“I threw it away.”
She tilted her head slightly, not bothering to show any extra expression, simply stating a fact.
That calmness, that matter-of-factness, was far more lethal than any heated rebuttal, instantly igniting all of Zhao Yingying’s fury.
“How dare you throw away my stuff, you wretch!”
Zhao Yingying screamed, like a crazed beast lunging fiercely at Huà Qí’ān.
Yet Huà Qí’ān merely shifted slightly, effortlessly dodging the wild attack.
Years of endurance finally worn thin in that moment.
Enough.
She no longer wanted to act.
For the first time, Huà Qí’ān missed playing the sunny, outgoing roles in middle school—the girls who pestering her.
Annoying, yes, but at least they never had the nerve to cross her like Zhao Yingying did.
Huà Qí’ān slowly lifted her gaze.
Those eyes, always tinged with weakness and moisture, were now a cold, still deathly silence.
“Zhao Yingying.”
Her voice was low but carried a chilling sharpness that pierced deeply.
“Do you really think I’m easy to bully?”
The moment the words fell, the dorm’s atmosphere seemed to drain of all breath, suffocatingly heavy.
A long-smoldering war was on the verge of breaking out.