Breaking Free: Love & Rebellion at Blackthorn Academy.

Xu Lingwei pushed open the heavy wooden doors of the headmaster's office, stepping inside with his usual calm demeanor. The air was thick with the faint scent of ink and old books, the ticking clock on the wall the only sound in the otherwise silent room.

Behind the massive desk sat Headmaster Jian, his ever-present smirk in place as he slid a neatly prepared document toward him.

"You understand what you're signing, don't you?" Jian asked, his fingers laced together as he leaned back in his chair.

Xu Lingwei glanced at the papers—a contract. The terms were clear—he would officially serve as the Blackthorn Academy representative, meaning every time students were sent out to compete, he would be among them. No exceptions. No refusals.

A life sentence of humiliation.

Xu Lingwei exhaled through his nose, picking up the pen. "Yeah. I understand."

Jian watched him, amusement flickering in his sharp gaze. "And yet, you're still signing it. I have to say, I expected at least some resistance."

Xu Lingwei didn't bother answering. His grip on the pen tightened for a fraction of a second before he dragged it across the paper in sharp, clean strokes. It was done.

He stood up, slipping his hands into his pockets as he turned toward the door. But as he reached for the handle, a memory stirred—his first conversation with Jian about being captain.

Xu Lingwei sat in the headmaster's office, the air thick with the scent of polished wood and old paper. Jian, the headmaster, sat across from him, his usual cunning smile in place, fingers tapping lazily against the desk.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Jian asked, amusement flickering in his eyes.

Xu Lingwei leaned back in his chair, unfazed. "Yeah. I don't have a problem with it. And let's be honest, you need someone who can control them. What if they go berserk in the middle of the match? That's what usually happens, right?" His voice was steady, but there was an edge to it.

Blackthorn Academy had a reputation. Fights broke out more often than matches were won. That was precisely why a captain was chosen—not to lead them to victory but to keep them from tearing each other apart.

Jian chuckled, folding his hands. "But I can't send an obedient student to be humiliated out there. And you have the highest points in the academy." His gaze sharpened, testing him.

Xu Lingwei tilted his head, studying him right back. "Then tell me, what do I have to do to go?" His lips curled slightly, teasing yet serious. "Should I punch you? Wreck your office? Cause a little chaos?"

The smile on Jian's face faded, his gaze darkening for a moment. Then, unexpectedly, he laughed. "Fine. But if you go now, you go every single time. No backing out."

"Fine." Xu Lingwei stood up, not hesitating for a second.

The weight of that agreement settled in his chest as he walked down the corridor, away from the office.

Bai Xinchen's words replayed in his mind—Hua Rong lost all her points. She's definitely going to be sent there.

That was the real reason he was doing this. He didn't want her to go alone.

And he didn't know why, but every time he looked at her, something in him clenched tight. He wanted to hold her, to keep her close. She had changed—too much. And it hurt.

He used to think that time would dull the ache, that distance would make things easier. But every time he saw her, it was like being dragged back to that moment. The moment she slipped away.

If only I had pushed a little further back then…

If only he hadn't just stood there like a coward after she rejected him. If only he had fought harder to stay by her side instead of turning away.

And then he saw her.

She stood on the basketball court in a loose jersey and shorts, her dark hair tied up, sweat glistening on her skin. She was trying to learn how to play. Other boys were with her, dribbling the ball, throwing weak shots at the hoop.

Xu Lingwei's jaw tightened.

I hate seeing her in this place.

He leaned against the railing, watching. His fingers curled into his palm as an unsettling thought crept in.

What the hell am I supposed to do with these feelings?

...

Shen Jiayi stepped into the office, the faint scent of ink and old paper filling the air. Her sharp eyes immediately landed on Headmaster Jian, who sat with his hand on his forehead, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

"What happened this time?" she asked, placing a stack of papers onto the desk.

Jian let out a quiet chuckle, straightening up in his chair. "You know, Jiayi, I always thought things would be far more interesting if we sent girls there." His voice carried a hint of amusement, but beneath it was something else—something calculative.

Shen Jiayi leaned against the desk, arms crossed as she studied him. "Yeah, well, you know we can't," she replied, her voice steady. "Barely any girls ever get nominated, and even when they do, it's with the lowest votes. We agreed a long time ago to keep them away from that place."

Jian didn't respond right away. He only watched her, as if waiting for her to continue.

She exhaled, glancing down at the papers before returning her gaze to him. "And if we're talking about Hua Rong, we didn't have a choice. More than 80% of the votes came from her own school."

Jian's grin widened.

Shen Jiayi frowned slightly. She knew that look.

...

Hua Rong hadn't planned on practicing, but the thought of at least trying by herself had crossed her mind. Yet, when she arrived at the court, the others were already there—huffing, sweating, moving with reckless energy.

But it didn't take long for her to realize something.

They had no idea what they were doing.

Their dribbles were sloppy, their passes were wild, and their shots barely made it anywhere near the hoop. They weren't practicing because they were skilled or confident—they were practicing because they were desperate. Even if they couldn't win, they at least wanted to put up a fight.

Hua Rong sighed and decided to join in.

But the second she stepped onto the court, she regretted it.

Not only were they playing terribly, but they weren't even letting her touch the ball. They fumbled, tripped over each other, and still managed to keep her completely out of the game. She ran, tried to steal a pass, reached for rebounds—but she was ignored at every turn.

Her breath grew heavier with each jump, each failed attempt to make a difference. She was already exhausted, and she hadn't even done anything.

Annoyed, she finally stopped running, placing her hands on her hips. "Are you guys actually playing or just running around like headless chickens?"

One of the boys, Qi Luoyan, glanced at her, wiping sweat from his forehead. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," she said, gesturing toward their mess of a game, "you guys are terrible."

"Like you're any better?" Wuhao Limuttered, shooting a basket that didn't even touch the rim.

Hua Rong pinched the bridge of her nose. "Oh my god. If I wasn't better than this, I'd be concerned for my existence."

Some of the guys laughed, but before she could push further, a thought crept into her mind.

Where was Lin Zeyan?

"Oh my," a familiar voice drawled from the entrance.

Hua Rong turned just in time to see Xu Lingwei sauntering in, his usual smirk plastered across his face.

"What is my group of misfits up to now?" he asked, his sharp gaze sweeping over the exhausted players on the court.

Hua Rong groaned internally. Just what she needed—another distraction.

But before she could even say a word, Xu Lingwei's eyes locked onto her, and in an instant, his expression shifted into something far more dramatic.

"Oh, my baby girl, what are you doing here alone with these jerks?" he teased, spreading his arms as if expecting her to run into them.

Hua Rong's expression deadpanned as she instinctively took a step back.

"Fine, fine," he sighed, dropping his arms in mock defeat. "No need to be shy."

Then, his tone changed—lightheartedness fading as he turned his attention back to the team. His gaze sharpened, his posture straightened, and when he spoke, the playful edge was gone.

"As your captain, let me give you some advice." His voice cut through the air, forcing everyone to stop what they were doing and listen.

"Forget about winning."

Silence fell over the court. Some of the players exchanged uneasy glances.

"Forget even thinking about putting up a good fight," he continued, his words slow, deliberate. "Because your pride isn't going to take you anywhere. It's going to be shattered—crushed—whether you like it or not."

He let that sink in for a moment, his hazel-brown eyes scanning their faces.

"And that, ladies and gentlemen, is exactly why we're here." He let out a dry chuckle, motioning toward the walls around them. "Welcome to Blackthorn Academy."

With that, he turned on his heel and walked off, leaving an air of uneasy silence in his wake.

Hua Rong exhaled, watching him go. The truth in his words left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Was that all they were? A group meant to lose?

Her fingers curled into fists.

Like hell they were.