Chapter Twelve: Crisis
The silent night always retreats without a sound, as the starry sky is gradually veiled in a shroud of hazy white. 5:30 a.m.—the summer sky brightens early.
Guan Qian and Tang Ruoyan had unknowingly endured the entire night. As dawn broke and the sky grew lighter, exhaustion began to settle in. Yet today was no weekend; one could never skip Professor Han’s theory class lightly. Not only would it cost academic credits, but the most miserable consequence would be enduring Professor Han’s relentless moral lectures.
Once, a classmate had pulled an all-nighter playing online games and missed class the next day. Professor Han subjected him to a whole week of ideological education, nearly scaring him away from his computer entirely. Since that episode, no one dared to skip Professor Han’s Ancient Script class. It must be said, Professor Han’s influence within the department was growing stronger by the day.
9:00 a.m., Ancient Script Theory classroom.
“Hey, Mo Han, look at Guan Qian today—something’s off. Yesterday he already had panda eyes, but today he looks worse than a panda,” Fang He whispered, tugging at Mo Han’s sleeve.
“Come on. Guan Qian probably hasn’t slept well these days—maybe something happened,” Mo Han replied, casting a disdainful glance at Fang He’s lecherous grin.
“You’re right, something must have happened,” Fang He agreed, nodding, though his eyes wandered toward the quiet Tang Ruoyan at the front.
“Say, Mo Han, have you noticed our class’s ice queen seems off too?” Fang He nudged Mo Han with his elbow.
“Now that you mention it, Tang Ruoyan really seems out of sorts today. I’ve never seen her look so drained. Something is definitely wrong,” Mo Han said, scrutinizing Tang Ruoyan with a puzzled look.
“I’ll bet you anything—Tang Ruoyan didn’t sleep last night. Believe it or not!” Fang He declared smugly, pounding his chest.
“Yeah, right. Even if you bet me water tickets, I wouldn’t believe it,” Mo Han retorted, clearly unimpressed by Fang He’s antics.
“Tch! Fine, don’t believe me. But I’ll tell you this—last night, Guan Qian and the ice queen must have been together!” Fang He blurted out, his sly grin begging for a slap.
Mo Han’s face turned green at Fang He’s boastful tone. He tried to signal Fang He to hush, but the big mouth only grew more animated.
Smack!
A crisp slap landed on Fang He’s shoulder. In mid-sentence, he spun around, ready to curse—only to choke back his words, terror etched across his face.
“Fang He, what did you just say?” Jiang Qiang thundered, her eyes blazing like copper bells. Hearing Fang He gossip about Guan Qian and Tang Ruoyan, her temper erupted instantly.
“No! No! I didn’t say anything!” Fang He stammered, vanishing like smoke.
Jiang Qiang, teeth clenched, surveyed the weary face of Guan Qian and the listless figure of Tang Ruoyan. Stirred by Fang He’s gossip, she grew ever more certain that something had happened between the two last night. Her fury was set ablaze.
“Guan Qian! Come with me!” Jiang Qiang exploded, her fiery temper fully ignited. She shouted his name and stormed out of the classroom.
The sudden outburst jolted Guan Qian from his daze. Seeing Mo Han’s mournful expression, his drowsiness fled instantly.
“Damn you, Fang He—this isn’t over!” Guan Qian cursed under his breath, but walked out of the classroom with a look of innocence.
Outside, the ensuing commotion nearly brought the entire building down, almost resulting in the first disciplinary action against a female student in the university’s history.
Meanwhile, the cause of all this—Tang Ruoyan—simply lay on her desk, dozing off as if nothing had happened, leaving Mo Han sighing endlessly.
From then on, the tug-of-war between Jiang Qiang and Tang Ruoyan escalated into a white-hot battle, filling the Ancient Script classroom with constant tension.
Of course, the most innocent victim remained Guan Qian. Not only did he receive a stern warning from the administration, but he also had to endure Jiang Qiang’s cold sarcasm every day.
Women are fearsome creatures—better to commit arson than to provoke a woman!
...
Rain poured down in torrents, the drops drumming like pearls against jade plates, drenching every street and alley in Z City.
A summer night’s downpour brought long-awaited coolness to many, but for Guan Qian, it signaled impending crisis.
“What do the hexagrams say?”
Recently, Guan Qian’s heightened sense of premonition had detected a foreboding omen. As time passed, his unease only grew more intense. He confided in Tang Ruoyan about his feelings.
Tang Ruoyan’s expression turned grave. She immediately produced a few yellowed bone rods and a turtle shell, deftly arranging them on the ground.
“Dire! The omen is extremely dire!” Tang Ruoyan’s tone was somber as she pronounced the result.
“What?!” Guan Qian stared at the irregular hexagram, his brow furrowed. He had sensed something ominous, but hadn’t expected it to be this dreadful.
A dire omen—this was the worst possible result, a fate of near-certain doom!
Tang Ruoyan remained silent, her eyes fixed on Guan Qian. The tense atmosphere pressed in around them.
Thunder roared, shattering the silence of the night, and the rain fell even harder, enshrouding Z City in a tempest.
“It’s coming!”
Guan Qian and Tang Ruoyan spoke in unison, their wide eyes meeting. Clearly, both sensed the impending crisis!
“What exactly is it?” Guan Qian gazed at the inky, fog-laden sky, his face a mask of uncertainty. Anxiety surged within him, growing as relentless as the rain.
“Prophet—” Tang Ruoyan’s dark eyes peered into the distant blackness, her hands clasped as she prayed for the protection of the First Prophet.
Lightning split the night like a jagged crack, illuminating all of Z City.
In a shadowy alley, a figure in a billowing black cloak appeared amidst the downpour. The brim of his hat revealed half of his pale face, his lips curled in a chilling, twisted smile.
Suddenly—
The figure flashed past, swift and silent as a bat in the night, moving rapidly in Guan Qian’s direction!
(A belated chapter! The Moon Palace thanks everyone for their support of the Prophet!)