Volume One, Chapter One: Target of All Arrows

A bright red banner was stretched across the main entrance of Fanlou University, bold white letters glaring under the midday sun.

[The school is derelict in its duty, indifferent to students’ lives. My son, Jin Jingyang, is missing.]

Protesters blocked the gate so tightly that not even a sliver of space remained. Security guards tried to intervene, but the tidal wave of angry voices forced them back.

At the front of the crowd stood a middle-aged woman, her voice hoarse as she cried out,

“An eye for an eye! Give me back my son!”

The people behind her echoed in unison.

“We demand an explanation from the university!”

The cacophony seeped into a nearby classroom building. Ran Yi gazed out the window with a helpless sigh.

A week ago, his classmate and roommate, Jin Jingyang, had vanished without a trace before their evening lecture and had yet to be found. Frantic with worry, Jin’s parents, faced with the university’s attempt to downplay the incident, had taken to protesting outside the gate, igniting a public outcry. Opinions swirled in the media, and a sense of dread spread among the students.

Ran Yi, as Jin’s roommate and classmate, had walked with him from the dorm to the classroom that very evening; they’d even sat side by side. He could not fathom how Jin could simply set down his book, step outside, and never return.

He tried to focus on the lecture. The professor droned on, reading from the PowerPoint in a monotonous chant that lulled half the class to sleep. Though Ran Yi sat in the third row, he felt as if he were sitting on pins and needles, restless and uneasy. The protests outside seemed to create a palpable pressure inside the room, while burning gazes converged on him from all directions.

Suddenly, his phone vibrated.

Ran Yi glanced back instinctively. A pretty girl in the row behind caught his eye and flashed him a knowing smile.

Her name was Tang Hui. To others, she was the picture of grace and gentleness—a classic beauty, poised and intelligent, a campus goddess. Because she rarely smiled or spoke and never lived in the dorms, she was a figure shrouded in ice, glimpsed only in class. For three years, countless love-struck boys had dreamed of her. But only Ran Yi knew the truth—

He unlocked his phone and saw a message from Tang Hui.

[Xiao Yi, instead of sitting through this boring class, why don’t you come with me to test whether this world is real or not?]

The so-called refined lady was, in fact, eccentric and rebellious—a true oddball. She lived off-campus to avoid dorm curfews, skipped classes so often she was rarely seen, and her frosty reputation came only from her baffling behavior.

[Don’t bother me, I’m trying to study.]

---

Ran Yi replied coolly, but couldn’t help glancing at Tang Hui. She frowned ever so slightly, biting her lower lip, one hand pressed to her stomach; her limpid eyes seemed to plead with him.

Tang: [I’m hungry. I can’t listen anymore.]

Speechless—

No sooner had he put down his phone than it began vibrating wildly, practically dancing a ballet on the desk. As expected, Tang Hui was spamming him again, but this time she began telling a story.

[Xiao Yi, have you ever heard of twin lotus flowers? Two blossoms on a single stalk, growing together but always at odds. When one dies, the other withers away as well.]

Tang Hui blinked, her tone conspiratorial, as if she’d discovered a world-shaking secret.

[Oh.]

[But it’s not hatred that drives one to kill the other, but love—a love so deep it expresses itself through the greatest harm. To strangle and merge, to be reborn as one.]

[Oh.]

[You must be curious why I brought this up. Last night I dreamed of someone exactly like me.]

[Oh.]

[She was another me—always close, yet untouchable, like two sides of a river. She seemed to be watching and spying on me. Strangely, I felt she could read my thoughts and wanted to take me somewhere else, just like—twin lotus flowers.]

[Oh.]

[Don’t you want to know what happened next, Xiao Yi?]

[Not interested. I’m going back to class.]

Ran Yi impatiently closed the chat app, ready to switch his phone to Do Not Disturb. But Tang Hui, undeterred by his indifference, called him directly, startling him so much he dropped his phone.

The moment it hit the floor, the protesters’ chants drifted in from the window.

“Give me back my son! Give me back my son!”

It was late autumn; the protests outside dragged on endlessly, foul and suffocating, tormenting everyone in the classroom. Ran Yi’s accidental noise seemed to be the last straw for the class’s patience.

“Teacher, with all that noise outside, isn’t the university going to do anything?” a boy in the back row spoke up.

The teacher looked apologetic. “Would closing the windows help a little?”

---

“What’s the use of that? These people protest day and night—we can’t even sleep, let alone study!” a girl demanded.

“The university will handle it properly, don’t worry…” the professor tried to change the subject, but the students, long resentful, ignored him entirely.

“Properly? I haven’t seen any action at all.”

“Yeah, it’s been seven whole days!”

“Even the food stalls by the gate have been chased away!”

The class erupted in complaints. With every word, Ran Yi hunched lower in his seat.

Suddenly, the class monitor in the front row stood up and called for silence. Ran Yi felt relieved, thinking someone would finally speak reason.

“Don’t take it out on the teacher. The administration is at fault here; we’re all victims.”

Then, turning sharply, she pointed at Ran Yi.

“But someone in this room can hardly claim innocence. If he’d just told the truth, the police might have found Jin by now. Instead, he’s been evasive, forcing us all to suffer this endless noise!”

“Exactly—how can you not know where your own roommate went?”

“I heard Principal Shen’s called him in several times—maybe to buy his silence…”

“What else could it be? His roommate disappears, and he still gets a spot in graduate school. He and the administration are in cahoots!”

“Who would’ve thought? He looks so proper, but he’s got a vicious heart!”

Ran Yi had chosen a front-row seat to avoid seeing those venomous faces. Every cutting word made his stomach turn. He only wanted to be invisible, but his passivity had only emboldened their attacks.

As the classroom descended into chaos, a figure suddenly appeared at his side—it was Tang Hui.

She smiled sweetly at him, taking his hand.

“I told you, there’s no point staying in this class any longer.”