Chapter 39

The first, third, fifth, and seventh places formed Group A, while the second, fourth, sixth, and eighth formed Group B.

By the halfway point of the qualifying round, the outcomes for both groups were essentially decided.

Qi Jiaoyue steadily held the top spot in Group A points, while Rong Jin had lagged slightly in the first half of Group B but slowly caught up in the second half, gradually pulling ahead of the players behind her by a significant margin.

Qi Jiaoyue won the Group A qualifying round and was about to step aside for a rest when she saw Rong Jin walking over with her bow.

The announcement echoed through the gymnasium: Archery qualifying round—Group A: Qi Jiaoyue, Group B: Rong Jin—advancing to the finals.

Qi Jiaoyue glanced at her bow. It was one provided by the school for the competition—nothing exceptional, of course.

But Rong Jin had just used this very bow to go from zero rings to ten rings!

So, that zero-ring shot during warm-up had been a deliberate humiliation?

Rong Jin strolled over leisurely. Xia Yu eagerly handed her a bottle of water, her attitude utterly arrogant. “Now you know how awesome our Rong Bro is, huh? Hahaha!!”

Qi Jiaoyue snapped angrily, “Who wins and who loses isn’t decided yet!”

The referee signaled that they had five minutes until the finals began.

Qi Jiaoyue suddenly thought of something and smirked slyly. “Rong Jin, how about we up the difficulty a bit?”

Rong Jin had just learned a new skill and was in a good mood. She asked with interest, “How do you want to up it?”

Qi Jiaoyue said, “It’s just the two of us in the finals—no need for so many rules. Ten meters is too close. Let’s double it to twenty meters. Dare to play?”

Rong Jin gave her a once-over. “You sure you’ve warmed up enough?”

In archery, the feel of ten meters and twenty meters was worlds apart, especially in terms of arm strength and accuracy. The farther the distance, the more a millimeter’s miss became a mile’s error.

Qi Jiaoyue pressed, “Just say if you can handle it or not!”

Rong Jin had no objections and nodded. “Sure.”

Qi Jiaoyue usually trained at fifteen meters and had practiced twenty meters for a while. Confident in her aim, she hurried off to find the referee as soon as Rong Jin agreed.

The referee approved.

The target was suddenly pulled back ten meters, eliciting a wave of exclamations from the crowd.

Whoa, this was going to be a show.

Could Rong God beat Qi Jiaoyue?

Xia Yu grew anxious instead. If Rong Bro’s performance in the prelims and qualifiers had built up her feel for the bow, switching distances would reset everything, wouldn’t it?

But this was the finals—no more practice rounds for Rong Bro.

The finals were also five arrows, one round to decide the winner.

The referee gave the signal, and both stood at their marked positions, drawing their bowstrings.

Due to the distance change, Rong Jin stared at the red center of the distant target for a long time, not releasing her arrow.

She was utterly focused, her fingers steady without a tremor, her gaze distant and calm. Just standing there, she exuded a natural magnetism that drew every eye.

Qi Jiaoyue had already loosed her arrow—seven rings.

Satisfied with the score, she turned to look at Rong Jin beside her.

Rong Jin still hadn’t shot. Qi Jiaoyue maliciously urged her to disrupt her focus. “Hurry up already. Time’s almost up.”

The referee warned, “Student, please do not disturb the other competitor.”

Qi Jiaoyue lowered her bow, crossed her arms, and sneered at Rong Jin.

With the distance doubled to twenty meters, it was a whole different level. She refused to believe Rong Jin could still hit!

Rong Jin released her arrow in the final seconds.

Five rings.

The crowd buzzed with discussion.

“Is Rong God going to lose?”

“Twenty meters is a bit too far. I hear Qi Jiaoyue’s pretty good at it too.”

“Aaaah, go Rong God! Go Rong God!!”

Qi Jiaoyue flashed a disdainful grin. “What’s wrong with Rong God? Can’t hack it?”

Rong Jin fiddled with the bow in her hand, as if realizing something. She didn’t spare Qi Jiaoyue a glance.

Infuriated by her attitude, Qi Jiaoyue barked, “Hey!”

Rong Jin finally glanced at her. “What?”

Qi Jiaoyue fumed, “Rong Jin, what are you so smug about? I’ll tell you what—if whoever loses today has to kneel and call the winner ‘Daddy’!”

Rong Jin looked at her like she was deranged, then smiled. “Fine.”

Qi Jiaoyue nearly burst with rage but was prompted by the referee to shoot her second arrow.

She drew and released—eight rings.

Not bad. She smirked smugly, then turned to Rong Jin.

Rong Jin had fully drawn her bow.

Her form was textbook perfect. Even without formal training, she adjusted through observation and subtle muscle feedback until it felt just right.

Her slender, powerful fingers gripped the nock and string tightly. Her arm extended straight, lines fluid yet casual. Her profile was exquisitely beautiful, a stray lock of hair falling across her cheek, eyes slightly upturned in focus and composure.

At that moment, she softly said something.

Everyone in the arena instinctively held their breath.

With a sharp whoosh, the arrow sliced cleanly through the air, the breeze lifting a strand of hair by her ear.

The crowd gasped.

The arrow struck dead center on the red bullseye.

Ten rings!

The arena fell silent for a full minute before erupting in chaos, the cheers threatening to shake the roof.

“My god, that’s insane!!”

“Is she even human? She’s a goddess!!”

“Aaaah, I’m in love!!”

Only Qi Jiaoyue’s face drained of color.

Rong Jin had said something before shooting, her voice so soft only Qi Jiaoyue heard.

“Daddy just let you have those five rings.”

…

The atmosphere peaked when Rong Jin’s third arrow hit another ten rings. Xia Yu screamed herself hoarse, the cheers nearly lifting the Archery Hall’s roof.

No one paid Qi Jiaoyue any mind anymore, even as her third arrow scored eight rings.

Rong Jin’s fourth arrow was another ten.

Qi Jiaoyue, meanwhile, had crumbled. Her fourth arrow only managed three rings.

Rong Jin remained unflappable, not even glancing her way as she nocked her final arrow.

Another perfect ten!

Qi Jiaoyue’s last arrow went wide—insufficient warm-up, overstrained muscles, a cramped wrist. It didn’t even graze the target.

Even so, no one noticed her.

Amid the roaring cheers, everyone had forgotten Qi Jiaoyue existed.

Like a dim star beside the sun, overshadowed completely.

Qi Jiaoyue was dazed by the end, even starting to think…

Rong Jin might really have let her have those five rings.

…

After that spectacle, Qi Jiaoyue didn’t dare show her face at the swimming competition on the third day of the sports meet.

She’d lost face so badly she might as well have gone home to her grandma’s, and her little followers stayed away too.

Rong Jin had no interest in swimming either. With Qi Jiaoyue absent, she simply forfeited.

Leaving the Swimming Hall, she passed the Fencing Hall. She suddenly remembered Su Qingqiu had signed up for fencing, and the events overlapped with swimming.

Perfect timing.

Rong Jin pushed open the door to the Fencing Hall and went inside.

The fencing finals were in their final bout.

The lights in the hall were off, the audience shrouded in darkness. Only the central platform glowed under stark white lights. Two figures stood on it, clad head to toe in white protective gear—chest plates, arm guards, and masks.

The announcer called: Fencing finals—Grade 1 Elite Class Su Qingqiu vs. Grade 1 Class 5 Liang Qiqi.

Rong Jin couldn’t tell which was Su Qingqiu. She found a seat and watched.

The fencers saluted each other on the platform, then took their distance.

The match started quickly.

Both wielded épées. At first, it was hard to spot differences, but as it progressed, one fencer’s movements stood out—crisp and efficient, parries light yet effective, agile and elegant in her poise.

Her opponent visibly tired, while she remained at ease, her attacks and defenses flawless, striking decisively.

No chance for ripostes—it was a one-sided thrashing.

The score gap widened to an absurd degree.

Rong Jin didn’t know the rules well, but she could see it clearly.

This was a total massacre.

And the one massacring seemed in a foul mood.

The grueling nine minutes finally ended. Liang Qiqi ripped off her mask, her face flushed red, tears clinging to her lashes, on the verge of crying.

Su Qingqiu removed her mask too. The girl’s refined features drew gasps from the stands. The white light accentuated her flawless pale skin, clear and soft. Her brown hair was tied in a high ponytail, her sweeping gaze and the mole beneath her eye utterly captivating.

Her expression remained neutral, calm even in victory. She handed her épée to the staff without a glance at Liang Qiqi.

Liang Qiqi, wary of offending the Su Family or Su Qingqiu, said nothing despite the thrashing and slunk offstage.

Cheers and whistles filled the stands, discussions buzzing.

“Who’s that? So strong!”

“Su Qingqiu from Grade 1 Elite Class—Rong God’s desk mate!”

“Damn, are all the freshmen this OP now? I’m out.”

Su Qingqiu ignored the chatter. She shed her gear, changed into normal clothes, grabbed her bag, and left the Fencing Hall.

She’d only come to vent and relieve stress. Wins, losses, others’ opinions—none of it mattered to her.

Besides, while Yang Wanwan had told her to relax at the sports meet, some things went unsaid but were understood.

Don’t waste energy on trivialities. Even relaxation had limits.

Su Qingqiu’s lips curved into a cold smirk.

Her eyes held no warmth.

The Su Family’s car waited at the school gate, her economics tutor already there.

Rounding a corner, Su Qingqiu bumped into someone.

Rong Jin, who had been waiting, called out, “Su Qingqiu.”

Su Qingqiu frowned slightly. “Classmate Rong Jin, is there something you need?”

So distant.

They’d been desk mates for so long.

Rong Jin sighed inwardly, thinking of that discarded plush bunny.

She eyed the bag in Su Qingqiu’s hand. The zipper now sported a new little bear charm, glinting with a subtle CHANEL logo in the sunlight.

Rong Jin withdrew her gaze and smiled. “That was some fierce fencing back there. Didn’t you say you don’t fight?”

Su Qingqiu still frowned, her eyes fixed on Rong Jin for a moment.

“Fencing isn’t fighting.”

To Rong Jin, they seemed much the same.

Rong Jin asked again, “You’re in a bad mood?”

Bad mood, so she fenced that viciously?

Su Qingqiu said flatly, “No.”

Rong Jin replied, “Looks like you really are in a bad mood.”

Su Qingqiu: “…”

Growing more impatient, Su Qingqiu demanded, “I have things to do. What do you want?”

Rong Jin’s gaze shifted from her furrowed brows to meet her eyes directly.

“Want to throw down? You in?”

“No…”

Su Qingqiu started to refuse when her phone rang.

She pulled it from her pocket and answered.

“Hello.”

Yang Wanwan’s worried voice came through. “Qingqiu, why aren’t you back yet? Teacher Wang’s been waiting a while.”

“…On my way.”

More irritated, Su Qingqiu hung up.

She looked up.

Rong Jin gazed at her and smiled again. “Really not gonna fight? You know my level—I can give you a good scrap.”

Su Qingqiu naturally remembered three months ago, in the alley behind the school, when Rong Jin took on seven thugs single-handedly.

That brute-force style?

Su Qingqiu wanted nothing more than to walk away.

Her phone rang again.

It was Yang Wanwan. Su Qingqiu had no intention of answering, her eyes downcast and dark.

It was really annoying.

She didn’t pick up and simply hung up the call before stuffing her phone into her backpack.

Su Qingqiu said, “Fine, let’s fight. Where?”