Breaking Free: Love & Rebellion at Blackthorn Academy.

The grand hall was packed; every student was standing as Jian, the headmaster, stood before the towering screen displaying the latest point rankings. The atmosphere was tense, but none were as visibly shaken as the students of Section A.

With only forty-five thousand points in total, it was glaringly obvious that they would be the ones sent as Blackthorn Academy's representatives. Murmurs of frustration rippled through their ranks, some students casting resentful glances at the screen while others slumped in silent despair. No one wanted to be sent away.

Jian, ever the theatrical headmaster, raised a hand to quiet the hall. "So, my dear students," he began, his voice laced with a deceptive warmth. "The results are in! But—"

Hua Rong stiffened. There was always a 'but' with this man.

"Do all of Section A's students truly deserve to go?" he asked, a smirk creeping onto his face. His words made everyone in Section A go rigid. But then, he continued, "And do all of Section B's students truly deserve to stay?"

A nervous hush spread across the hall, students exchanging anxious glances. A teacher stepped forward, handing Jian a piece of paper. He glanced at it, then theatrically cleared his throat.

"In this academy, each student holds an average of 700 points," he announced. "However, there are some among us who don't even meet that threshold—students who, if we followed the original rule, would slip away unnoticed while their classmates bore the burden."

He let that sink in before sharply adding, "And can I allow that?"

Silence. Then—

"Obviously not!" he declared, tossing the paper onto the podium. "Therefore, only the ten students with the lowest points will be sent as our representatives."

A loud commotion broke out among the students.

"What?!" someone shouted in outrage.

"You should've told us that before!" another snapped.

"That's deceiving! You said the section with the least points would go!"

Yet before their anger could grow, their watches flickered ominously, points deducting in real time. The hall fell into a forced, simmering silence as everyone swallowed their protests, not daring to risk their already fragile numbers.

Jian smiled, victorious. "Now, let me announce the names of the ten students."

Hua Rong's stomach twisted.

"Chen Zhaoyang, 300 points."

"Zinchen Liu, 100 points."

"Qi Luoyan, 400 points."

"Han Xingyun, 250 points."

"Wuhao Li, -100 points."

Hua Rong blinked. Negative? Could points go negative?! She turned to see Wuhao Li, a wavy brown-haired student who looked completely unbothered, as if being in debt to the school was a minor inconvenience.

"Xu Wenhan, 20 points."

"Hua Rong, 0 points."

She froze.

From beside her, Zhou Yifen turned to stare, his expression unreadable. She avoided his gaze, unsure of what to even say.

"Guo Tianlei, 310 points."

"Lin Zeyan, 690 points."

That's nine… Who was the last one?

Jian let the suspense linger before finally announcing, "And the last student—who will also be the captain of your group—is none other than the student with the highest points in the entire academy. Xu Lingwei, with 32,000 points."

The hall fell into stunned silence.

Hua Rong's eyes snapped toward Xu Lingwei, expecting a reaction. But he wasn't even looking at her. He was staring straight ahead, expression unreadable.

Jian clapped his hands together. "And your destination will be Anhua High School."

A ripple of hushed whispers spread across the hall. Anhua High, so Lin Zeyan's prediction was right!

Jian's smirk widened. "And your match will be against Anhua's best basketball players."

A beat of silence.

Hua Rong felt all the air leave her lungs.

Basketball? What?!

Her mind went blank.

Of all things, why basketball? She didn't even know how to play! This wasn't just a bad situation—it was an outright disaster. Her hands curled into fists as reality sank in.

She was doomed.

.....

Hua Rong sat at the desk, her eyes fixed on the screen as she scrolled through last year's match footage between Anhua Academy and Blackthorn Academy. Since no one from her former school, Dihua, had ever been sent to Blackthorn, there had never been a match involving her previous academy. She had never bothered to watch these games before, but now, with the looming competition, she had no choice but to study them. The matches were broadcast live every year, though she had always been indifferent to them.

The door creaked open, and Xu Lingwei entered the room, drenched in sweat, his shirt clinging to his toned frame. Without a word, he grabbed a towel and disappeared into the bathroom. Moments later, the sound of water cascading from the shower filled the room—a routine she had already gotten used to.

Hua Rong clicked play, the footage flickering to life. At the end of the match, Blackthorn Academy had lost miserably. She frowned and hit rewind, determined to pinpoint the reasons behind their failure. But as the video played again, frustration bubbled inside her. There were too many rules, too many technicalities, and she barely understood half of what was happening.

A voice broke her concentration.

"They don't know how to play."

She turned. Xu Lingwei stood near the bed, his damp hair falling over his forehead, beads of water dripping onto the floor. His hazel-brown eyes locked onto the screen as he stepped closer.

"What do you mean?" she asked, watching as he leaned over, his presence looming beside her.

Without answering, he took the mouse from her hand and rewound the footage. "See this?" He pointed at a player holding the ball longer than allowed. "That's a violation." He fast-forwarded to another moment. "And here—look at this angle. There's no way someone could miss a goal from this distance. But he did."

Water dripped from his hair onto her hand, sending a shiver up her arm. His voice was steady, almost indifferent, but the weight of his words lingered.

"Did you understand?" he asked.

Realization dawned on Hua Rong. "So… they didn't know how to play either? Just like us?"

He smirked. "Exactly. They deliberately chose a sport that the students had no clue about."

"But why?" she asked, still staring at the screen.

"Because if we win, then how will they humiliate us?" His voice was calm, but there was an unmistakable edge of resentment. "How else would we learn the 'lesson' that being a bad student isn't cool?"

She scoffed. "That's harsh."

Turning her head slightly, she suddenly realized how close he was. His face was inches away, his damp hair nearly brushing against her forehead. Her reflection was visible in his pupils, his gaze unreadable yet intense.

"Isn't it?" she murmured.

"Yeah." His voice was quieter this time, and then—just as suddenly—he moved away.

Hua Rong let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding.

"That's how it has always been in this academy," he said as he sat on the bed, running a hand through his wet hair.

"But you're the captain," she reminded him. "You have to play too. What's your plan?"

"Nothing." His answer was immediate, blunt. "There's no point in struggling when the game is rigged against us from the start. And what else can we do in two days?"

Hua Rong felt a twinge of sympathy. "I feel bad for you. You scored the highest points in the entire academy, and yet, you're still forced to go with us."

A smirk tugged at his lips as he lay down, arms behind his head. "Yeah, this was definitely not fair."

She watched him for a moment before turning back to the screen. The game was unfair; the match was set up for their failure, but something inside her refused to accept it. If the academy thought they would just roll over and lose without a fight, they were wrong.

She was going to do something about it.