Breaking Free: Love & Rebellion at Blackthorn Academy.

The archery range was empty, save for Xu Lingwei. Alone, lost in his own world, his body moved in fluid motions, his hands flowing effortlessly through the air. His feet shifted, his weight shifting from heel to toe as he turned. His movements were precise yet expressive, a silent rhythm pulsing through him—each step an unspoken beat, each movement a controlled breath.

It wasn't just a dance; it was something deeper, something instinctive. His arms cut through the air in sweeping arcs, a graceful yet powerful display of control. A turn, a pivot—his leg extended before bending smoothly as he shifted his stance. His hands lifted, fingers tracing unseen patterns, his shoulders rolling as his body followed. The motion was sharp yet fluid, his presence commanding yet effortless.

And then—thud.

He stopped. His breath was steady, but his focus was shaken.

She was there.

Her arrow had slipped from her fingers, landing on the wooden floor with a soft clatter. She was watching him again.

"Why did you stop?" she asked, quickly picking up the arrow. A flicker of guilt crossed her face before she turned away slightly. "I won't look. Just continue."

She always said that. Always promised to look away. But she never did.

Her eyes—those unwavering, quiet eyes—held something indescribable, something that made Xu Lingwei uneasy in a way he couldn't explain. She looked at him as if he were something to marvel at, something so captivating she forgot to blink. And it unsettled him, that gaze—so still, so full, so there.

She stood in her usual attire, a flowing skirt and a loose top with sleeves extending all the way to her palms, tied at the ends with delicate bows. Her hair was parted in the middle, two tiny pigtails framing the back of her head while the rest cascaded freely down her shoulders. Strands of hair brushed against her forehead, swaying slightly with her movements.

"I'm done," Xu Lingwei said, breaking the moment as he grabbed his archery set, shifting gears from dance to discipline.

"Do you always come this early?" she asked, her voice softer now, almost expectant.

He didn't answer right away. Instead, he glanced at her, at the way she lingered, the way she never seemed to tire of watching him.

And though he wouldn't admit it, a part of him wondered—why?

"No, I just happen to come early sometimes," Xu Lingwei said, adjusting the strap of his archery set. Or perhaps, if he were honest, he came here early to find peace—away from the noise, the expectations, the world.

"And you? Why do you come so early?" he asked, tilting his head slightly as he studied her.

"To practice," she answered without hesitation. "So I can compete, win an award, and make my mama happy."

Again. It was always about her mother.

"Why do you always try so hard to impress your mother?" His voice came out sharper than intended. "What about your father?"

For the briefest second, something in her eyes dimmed—like a candle flickering in the wind. Guilt coiled in his chest. Did I say something wrong?

But then, just as quickly, she smiled—so brightly, so effortlessly, as if she had already learned to tuck away whatever sadness had surfaced.

"I don't have one!" she said, her voice light, almost playful.

Xu Lingwei frowned. "What?"

"I mean, he's not with us," she clarified.

"Oh... so he works far from home?" He tried again, attempting to make sense of her words.

She shook her head. "No, he's just… not with us."

And somehow, at that moment, Xu Lingwei understood.

He didn't push further. Didn't ask for details. Instead, he shifted the conversation, sensing the invisible weight she carried but choosing not to press on it.

"Will he come back?" he asked instead, his voice softer now.

She adjusted her bowstring, her fingers steady as she spoke. "I don't know. Mama never talks about him. She just says he's not with us." Then, after a brief pause, she added with quiet conviction, "But it doesn't matter. My mama is also like my papa. She's my everything."

A bitter chuckle escaped Xu Lingwei's lips before he could stop it. He looked at her—noticing how naturally she said it, as if she had convinced herself long ago that she needed nothing more.

But she was holding her bow incorrectly again.

"Not like this," he murmured, stepping closer. Without thinking, he reached out, his hands gently guiding hers, adjusting her grip.

The moment his fingers brushed against her skin, she glanced up at him, blinking once before murmuring, "You smell nice."

Xu Lingwei stiffened. A sudden shudder ran down his spine, and he pulled back instinctively.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, his voice edged with exasperation.

"But you do," she said, completely unfazed.

How shameless.

And yet, somehow, despite his irritation, he couldn't bring himself to step any farther away.

.....

Hua Rong stood near the board, arms crossed, staring at the numbers written in bold red ink.

"How do we increase our points?" she muttered, more to herself than anyone else.

She still couldn't believe they had chosen her to lead. Not that she had any issue taking charge, but this? A last-minute attempt to salvage their section's standing? Unbelievable.

Even worse, none of them had realized yet about the 6,000 points lost because of her. Not that it mattered now—she had already recovered 1,000, but their section was still at rock bottom, barely scraping 40,000 points.

Meanwhile, Section B, which had been dead last just a few days ago, had somehow shot up to 60,000 points.

"How did they gain all those points?" Gong Yefang asked, frowning as he leaned against the desk.

Hua Rong sighed. "Same points we all get, but…" She hesitated for a second, then shrugged. "There were a few small things I did out of habit that earned me bonus points."

Zhou Yifen perked up. "What kind of things?"

"Simple stuff," Hua Rong replied. "Avoiding trouble, being active in class, actually listening to the teachers, and, you know… taking the rules seriously."

Some groaned. Others exchanged glances, clearly not thrilled by the idea of suddenly transforming into model students.

But the real problem wasn't them. It was Xu Wenhan.

He sat at the back, legs stretched out in complete disregard for the growing tension in the room. His expression was one of absolute boredom, as if everything happening here had nothing to do with him.

Hua Rong exhaled sharply. She had no patience for this.

"So, Xu Wenhan," she said, leveling her gaze at him. "As our classmate, we really need your cooperation to recover from this loss."

He didn't even acknowledge her. Just kept lounging there, parading his legs in that annoyingly carefree manner.

Her jaw tightened. What else did I expect?

"Xu Wenhan!" Hua Rong took a step closer, voice firmer this time.

Finally, he tilted his head lazily toward her, an unimpressed smirk tugging at his lips.

"Look, girl, I really don't want to listen to someone who only gets respect for being an obedient little student," he said, his tone dripping with mockery.

Hua Rong didn't flinch. "You'd get respect too if you stopped acting like rules didn't apply to you."

That made him laugh. A slow, deep chuckle that held no real amusement.

"If you were really that obedient," he said, leaning forward slightly, "then how did you end up here?"

Her fingers curled into fists. There was no point wasting her breath on someone like him.

"I think my duty is done," Hua Rong said flatly. "I've said what I needed to say. I can't force anyone to care."

Her gaze flickered to Lin Zeyan, who sat quietly at the back, watching everything without a word.