Chapter 03
Discharge
Aurora is located in the suburbs of New Rosuda State, near the Ailoran Sea. The wind is relatively strong, and rainy, foggy weather is common—typical of a temperate maritime climate.
Within Aurora, ryegrass is widely planted.
This cool-season grass stays green all year, adapts well to humid weather, and is easy to plant and manage, though its drawback is its rapid growth. The gardener hadn’t trimmed the lawn outside the school hospital for two weeks, and it had already grown into a dense, lush expanse.
Following the principle of “if the enemy doesn’t move, neither do I,” Lin Yan waited for two hours to catch a cat. But the stray he had just caught darted back into the grass.
Half-squatting beside the grass, Lin Yan lowered his eyelids, seemingly losing interest in the “cat-catching” game. He stood up and walked forward a few steps.
The grass stems were pressed down by two small paws. The ownerless stray cat poked its head out, its pitch-black pupils fixed on Lin Yan’s back, letting out a soft meow.
Lin Yan seemed not to hear it and continued walking. The stray meowed loudly again. Seeing no reaction, its fur instantly bristled. With all four paws stepping over the grass—one deep, one shallow—it followed behind Lin Yan.
It didn’t go far.
Lin Yan turned his head to look at the kitten. His gaze lightly swept over its left hind leg. With a cold expression, he half-squatted and reached out, pulling the stray into his arms.
The kitten instinctively hid its injured paw, appearing to step back warily, its fur standing on end.
Just as Lin Yan made a motion to withdraw his hand, the kitten panicked and quickly extended a paw, pressing it into Lin Yan’s palm.
Lin Yan allowed it, gently holding its paw.
Two species—white-skinned and black-eyed—reached some kind of friendly agreement.
The kitten took advantage, nestling into Lin Yan’s palm.
The tip of its tail tentatively tried to wrap around Lin Yan’s wrist.
Lin Yan glanced at the kitten.
The kitten pretended to bare its claws and fangs, but after a moment, it rubbed against Lin Yan’s sleeve and curled into his arms, its tail tip drooping.
Today, Aurora’s temperature was slightly low, and the school hospital had the heating on. Inside and outside felt like two different seasons.
Lin Yan pushed the door open. His tense body relaxed, and he curled his stiff, frozen fingers.
Without looking sideways, Lin Yan walked toward the reception desk.
Footsteps approached from not far away. A boy had run down several floors, his breathing heavy.
Lin Yan tensed, looking at Vidi with vigilance.
The heavy breathing abruptly stopped. Vidi straightened up. His cheeks were flushed, making him seem less arrogant and more youthful. In a daze, he let out a breathy sound: “I…”
The two stood in the shadowed corner of the school hospital.
The first to make a sound was the white fluff poking its head out from Lin Yan’s patient gown.
A fierce “meow.”
Just as the fluff was about to launch at the enemy, Lin Yan grabbed the back of its neck.
The stray’s fur instantly stood on end. Its black pupils glanced at Lin Yan’s indifferent profile before it unwillingly withdrew its head.
Lin Yan lowered his eyes, pinching the kitten’s nape, neither too lightly nor too heavily, and said:
“Behave.”
Behave, behave, behave.
Vidi thought his head had been damaged by Lin Yan.
Recalling that night’s overwhelming force, his whole body stiffened. He instinctively stepped aside to give way, yet when he saw Lin Yan walk past without reaction, he blurted out without thinking:
“Lin Yan, is your head okay?”
The first floor instantly fell silent, as if even the sound of a needle dropping could be heard.
It sounded like provocation.
Lin Yan tilted his head and glanced at Vidi. His gaze swept over the bandage on Vidi’s head, then returned to his flushed face, as if pondering something.
“And you?”
And you, and you, and you.
Dizzy.
Vidi felt lightheaded and blurted out, “I… I’m fine…”
Lin Yan nodded calmly, holding the kitten as he walked straight to the reception desk.
Vidi stood where he was, irritably ruffling his hair.
He had clearly come to pick a fight with Lin Yan!!
Warm sunlight streamed through the glass windows, gently covering the courtyard.
The first floor returned to its bustle.
The stray cat was gray and white, with pitch-black eyes.
It had been at Aurora for two years, liked to linger around the school hospital, and had a fierce temperament—refusing to be touched and easily bristling.
If someone wanted to feed it,
they had to carefully cater to its preferences before it would reluctantly come out and grant them a glance, as if bestowing a favor.
But Lin Yan had brought the stray back.
The medical staff exchanged looks, then noticed that the gray-white fluff in Lin Yan’s arms was “well-behaved”—constantly trying to wrap its tail around his wrist.
Lin Yan took the stray out of his arms.
Only then did the nurses notice the cat was limping on one leg. They hurriedly took out gauze and bandages to treat it.
Ownerless strays were fierce. After scaring off several nurses, the limping kitten smugly waved its paw at Lin Yan.
Lin Yan reached out and, with a cold face, pressed down on its nape.
The kitten’s fur stood up. It let out a few aggrieved meows, and seeing Lin Yan unmoved, it unwillingly extended its injured paw.
Looking at the wound, a nurse let out a sigh of relief and said softly, “It’s true—it sprained it itself.”
There had been many bullying incidents on campus.
In the end, they were always concluded as the victim having accidentally hit their head, twisted their ankle, or jumped into a river.
The other nurses fell silent, cautiously glancing at Lin Yan.
Lin Yan seemed not to hear them. Lowering his eyes, he pressed the kitten’s nape with two fingers, watching the nurses’ actions intently.
Everyone let out a collective sigh of relief.
Before long, the limping kitten became a bandaged kitten.
Bandaged Ah Yan and the bandaged kitten sat together in the treatment room, listening to the attending physician’s instructions. Both drooped their eyelids, drowsy, but when the volume rose, they instinctively lifted their eyelids, revealing two pairs of equally pitch-black pupils.
The attending doctor met their gaze and subconsciously reflected on whether he had spoken too loudly. He waved his hand, letting them return to the ward to rest.
The stray was also allowed to stay in Ward 113.
A timid nurse, afraid of the stray, gathered her courage and pushed open the door.
Lin Yan was tossing a ball.
The yellow ball was thrown.
The stray quickly caught it and placed it beside Lin Yan. When Lin Yan reached out, the cat immediately dropped its fierceness, rubbed against his palm, even squinting comfortably, its tail tip swaying slightly, completely forgetting to “attack” the “intruder.”
The nurse was dumbfounded. Even after finishing her duties and leaving the ward, she remained dazed.
How had the stray become so docile?
Did Lin Yan switch cats?
As she walked, she carefully glanced at Lin Yan through the corner of her eye.
The stray, whose tail was wrapped around Lin Yan’s wrist, instantly bristled, its black eyes fixed on the nurse, ready to pounce at any moment.
The nurse quickened her pace, when she heard a calm voice from the ward:
“Apologize.”
Lin Yan pressed the cat’s nape again.
Startled, the nurse looked back, only to see the usually fierce stray meow ingratiatingly at her twice.
So strange.
Lin Yan… seemed like he could cast spells.
.
The fourth floor and the first floor were only a few steps apart.
Vidi often passed by Room 113 on the first floor. Every time he came, it was to find trouble with Lin Yan, yet each time it ended strangely—he would ask questions, and Lin Yan would answer.
This time, as Vidi passed the first floor again, he happened to glance into the ward and saw Lin Yan having his bandages removed by a nurse.
The dressing was thrown into a medical waste bin.
As the white bandages were removed from his black hair, the nurse worked carefully, yet still couldn’t avoid messing it up.
Lin Yan didn’t speak, sitting there quietly with messy hair, listening to the nurse.
But standing outside the glass door, Vidi felt something soft—
a warmth he had never felt from Lin Yan.
After Lin Yan had beaten him,
their relationship became like that of unfamiliar patients.
Lin Yan always watched him with vigilance and caution.
Yet Lin Yan was gentle and soft toward others.
Vidi suddenly forgot he had come to cause trouble.
He found himself unable to breathe, and afraid of being noticed, hurriedly fled.
Lin Yan indeed didn’t notice Vidi. He lowered his head, carefully tugging twice at the stray’s bandage.
Even for a kitten,
injuries to bones and muscles required a hundred days to heal. The bandage couldn’t be removed.
The stray’s black pupils stared at Lin Yan’s head, then at the bandage on its hind leg. Unhappy, it scratched the bed sheet with its front paw.
The nurse repeated the medical instructions several times, then, worried Lin Yan might be bullied in school, stammered:
“By humanitarian principles, the school hospital is the safest place in Aurora.”
Lin Yan was silent for a moment. He lifted his eyelids, looked at the nurse, and said softly:
“Thank you.”
The nurse, not good with words and having no reason to stay, tiptoed toward the door, but heard a voice behind him:
“What’s your name?”
Like being struck by unexpected fortune,
the nurse opened his mouth, trying to activate his speech system, but upon meeting Lin Yan’s eyes, stammered again:
“I… Isaac Worin. You… no, you can just call me Isaac.”
“Isaac,” Lin Yan lowered his gaze slightly and calmly pointed to the badge on Isaac’s chest, “you seem… to be wearing the wrong name badge.”
Nurses at the school hospital always took their badges from the storage cabinet before their shifts. Isaac was the only male among them, but the badge he wore had a photo of a delicate-looking woman.
The nurses had treated a river-jumping patient overnight and were exhausted. In his groggy state, Isaac had worn the wrong badge.
Isaac wanted to explain but didn’t know how. As he left the ward in a daze, only one thought filled his mind:
[He knows. He knows my name.]
.
At noon, Lin Yan received an email from Teacher Jacques.
The general content:
Dear,
The elective course “Dance Art” will hold its final exam on the 31st of this month at 6:30 PM on the third floor, Water Meets Sky Hall. Each student must perform a dance on stage.
Students who do not attend will receive no grade.
Lin Yan had never learned dance.
The original owner had been reassigned to Dance Art.
According to the original plot:
The original owner was in danger, the protagonist appeared like a savior, and rescued him. On the surface, the original owner was grateful, but in reality, he blamed all his resentment and fear from bullying on the protagonist.
He didn’t dare act against the real perpetrators—the F4—and instead secretly sabotaged the protagonist.
The protagonist resolved everything smoothly.
The original owner did not have such luck and even lost many opportunities he should have seized.
For example, this dance exam.
To prevent the protagonist from taking the exam, the original owner locked him in a restroom, then stayed there to guard him, afraid his followers might help him escape.
As a result, the original owner missed the exam time himself.
Although the protagonist also missed it, he had previously led a team to achieve significant results in the lab, so the elective teacher had already given him an A+.
The original owner ended up losing more than he gained and completely lost his mind.
Lin Yan stared blankly at the ballerina image in the email.
Half an hour later, he finally looked away, returned to the webpage, found Aurora Academy’s official site, and typed a line with a solemn expression:
—A top scholarship student receives a D grade at Aurora Academy.
The official site couldn’t answer that directly.
After loading for a while, it displayed Aurora’s academic system.
Aurora uses a credit system.
Only by completing all required and elective credits can one graduate.
Core subjects include literature, mathematics, geography, history, biology, genetics, chemistry, and physics. Electives include equestrianism, Greek, art, music, and dance.
Grades are divided into A, B, C, and D.
A D requires retaking the course the next year and paying for the credits (2,500 federal coins per credit).
A single meal for nobles costs four to five thousand federal coins.
But for top scholarship students, 2,500 is half a semester’s living expense—
they are not supposed to receive D grades.
In Aurora’s third year,
the principal added a rule: report cards would be mailed home.
Nobles value their reputation.
Some would be punished by their parents if they didn’t achieve all A’s.
Top students have their struggles.
Nobles have theirs.
After centuries, Aurora became tightly wound like a twisted rope.
Lin Yan clicked back to the email, staring again at the ballerina image. After a long silence, he replied:
—Hello, Teacher Jacques. Must it be ballet?
.
Lin Yan decided to be discharged early.
Paper cannot wrap fire.
The news of his discharge quickly spread to Aurora Academy’s anonymous forum.
[Has LY been discharged?]
[1L: Rumor has it L is leaving this afternoon]
[2L: Boring life, finally some entertainment]
[3L: Our family firmly opposes Aurora admitting scholarship students—a bunch of ignorant rats. Every morning I wake up and think about breathing the same air as them. It makes me sick. Can they crawl back into the sewers?]
[4L: Justice will be served]
…
[15L: When L trolls online, isn’t that cyberbullying?]
[16L: There’s only one exit at the hospital. L will pass through the cedar forest. The cameras there are broken. Young Master Xiao issued a red card—after that, any student can “discipline” L. No matter what we do, nothing will happen~~]
…
[20L: Who’s going?]
[21L: Me]
[22L: +1]
…
[38L: +10086]
…
Aurora’s greenery was abundant, lush everywhere. On clear days, it was scenic, but during storm season, the dim lights made the campus seem haunted.
Shadows loomed, eerie and shifting.
Students with weaker nerves could feel their hearts race in fear among the trees.
When Lin Yan stepped out of the hospital,
Teacher Jacques had replied:
—Dear, it doesn’t have to be ballet (any form of dance is acceptable).
Lin Yan finally let out a breath of relief.
He lowered his head and replied:
—Thank you, teacher ^^
“Hey, that scholarship student—come here, I want to ask you something.”
Lin Yan ignored the voice. After confirming the message was sent, he prepared to leave.
With a “clang,”
a chain hit the ground.
Lin Yan lifted his eyelids. His gaze passed over the chain and calmly looked at the group of students gathered around the artificial rocks.
Some sat, some stood, some leaned. The previously restless and arrogant atmosphere fell silent. Seven or eight gazes fixed on Lin Yan at once.
His facial features were smooth—neither too soft nor too sharp. Ink-black eyes, raven hair, cold white skin, and vividly red lips. When he looked at people, his expression was always cold, giving an aloof, almost superior air.
Especially those black eyes—narrow at the corners, with shallow double eyelids—like tools used by psychologists for hypnosis.
Swallowing sounds rose one after another.
Another group here to cause trouble.
Lin Yan irritably picked up the chain, loosening his wrist.
A black-haired, brown-eyed boy stepped forward.
Lin Yan slowly lowered the chain, staring at him indifferently.
The boy seemed hypnotized, his throat dry as his Adam’s apple bobbed repeatedly.
Just as Lin Yan’s patience reached its limit and he was about to act, the boy suddenly asked in a daze:
“Classmate, um… do you… no, do you know… a first-year… yes, a first-year top student… Lin Yan, who always wears black-framed glasses? Has he been discharged?”
Lin Yan frowned, glanced at the group behind him all nodding in unison, then casually tossed the chain aside. A trace of mockery flashed in his eyes. When he looked up again, a faint smile curved his lips, dispelling the coldness, half-smiling:
“I know. He’s been discharged.”
