The Young Uncle of the F1 in the Elite Academy - Chapter 2
His tone was calm, yet Jiang Xing reflexively tensed up.
Song Xingqiu scanned everyone in the classroom and immediately spotted a thin, black-haired boy sitting in the back row. The boy was completely out of place in this environment. His seat was poorly situated, leaving half of his body shrouded in shadows; his face was deathly pale, and his lips were devoid of color.
Upon catching Song Xingqiu’s gaze, the boy looked down in a panic, too overwhelmed to meet his eyes. Song Xingqiu understood that this must be the rumored special-enrollment student.
The boy bit his lip, ultimately remaining silent. In this class, he was the target of bullying—the lowest of the low. Now that Song Xingqiu had arrived, he had effectively taken over part of the boy’s role.
The student knew exactly who was responsible for the prank, but a long life of suppressed bullying had stripped him of the courage to answer Song Xingqiu. He was terrified that Song Xingqiu would approach and question him. If he answered, the others would surely make his life even more miserable. Yet, if he remained silent, he feared upsetting Song Xingqiu.
After all, Song Xingqiu was also wealthy. Even if the pure-blood aristocrats looked down on him for being mixed-blood, he still had enough power to crush someone like him with a snap of his fingers. Caught between a rock and a hard place, the boy could only pray that Song Xingqiu would not notice him.
At that thought, a flicker of something strange crossed the boy’s eyes, and his expression twisted for a split second. Fortunately, his head was down, and no one noticed. He quickly regained his composure.
Naturally, the others noticed Song Xingqiu’s gaze and felt the undercurrent between him and the special-enrollment student. Faint laughter leaked from their throats as an eerie atmosphere spread through the room. They were clearly eager for a confrontation. Regardless of who got hurt, they would enjoy the outcome; any choice the boy made would provide them with a fresh excuse for torment.
To their disappointment, Song Xingqiu merely glanced at the trembling student before moving his gaze to the next person. But they were not worried; it did not matter who Song Xingqiu picked because no one was going to answer him. They were waiting to see him fly into a fit of rage.
Song Xingqiu took in everyone’s reactions. He stood there for a long while, observing these malicious teenagers with a stable demeanor. Despite receiving no answers, he was not angry or impatient. His gaze was not one of forced calm under pressure like the bullied student’s; he was not masking anxiety—he truly had no emotional fluctuation. Instead, he seemed to be enjoying himself as if he were watching something interesting. He was not surprised by this scene at all.
As minutes ticked by, the others could no longer keep up the act. Somehow, Song Xingqiu did not look awkward standing there; instead, he used the height difference to look down on them with an evaluative air. The usually high-and-mighty aristocrats felt as though they had shifted from hunters to prey. This scrutiny made them feel uncomfortable.
Finally, someone snapped. With a loud bang, a student kicked the desk in front of him, shattering the silence. The student in the front seat frowned, but upon seeing who it was, his anger turned to endurance. This was clearly someone he could not afford to provoke. Even among elite nobles, there was a hierarchy, and he was not at the top.
The one who kicked the desk was Jiang Xing. He tilted his chin toward Song Xingqiu, his eyes filled with irritability and loathing. “Hey, have you seen enough?” He added with a sneer, “Looked long enough to find the culprit?”
Jiang Xing was a tall boy with striking red hair. He was not bad-looking, but his explosive temper did him no favors. The atmosphere became restless again as malicious, expectant looks fell upon Song Xingqiu.
Ignoring the hostility, Song Xingqiu stared directly at Jiang Xing’s face for a full three seconds as if judging him. Jiang Xing felt uneasy under the stare, wondering what this idiot was thinking. Just as he was about to confront him, Song Xingqiu nodded as if he had reached a conclusion.
“I see,” Song Xingqiu said decisively.
Jiang Xing was baffled by the illogical response. His brow furrowed as his irritability grew. “You see what, you—” Before he could finish, Song Xingqiu strode forward on his long legs. Before Jiang Xing could react, Song Xingqiu grabbed him by the collar.
The classroom erupted in gasps. Jiang Xing’s eyes widened in disbelief. This guy was grabbing his collar? Was he going to fight? He reflexively tried to resist, but Song Xingqiu’s strength was so immense that Jiang Xing’s struggle was useless. For a few seconds, he was completely at Song Xingqiu’s mercy, his brain going blank from the shock.
The onlookers were stunned. They had not expected the seemingly thin Song Xingqiu to grab Jiang Xing like a small chick. Jiang Xing was dragged a few steps, losing his balance and spinning 180 degrees.
As the world stopped spinning, Jiang Xing’s shock turned into a wave of fury. He had not expected to be humiliated like this in front of the whole class. Song Xingqiu actually dared!
“You half-breed, what are you do—”
His insult was cut short as Song Xingqiu ruthlessly kicked him in the shin. The sharp pain made Jiang Xing buckle. Nearby students scrambled away, fearing they would be caught in the crossfire. Seeing this, Song Xingqiu let go of the collar and placed his hand on Jiang Xing’s head.
Jiang Xing felt a moment of relief, thinking Song Xingqiu was backing down. But before he could speak, Song Xingqiu slammed his head down toward the damaged chair. The entire process took less than five seconds.
Screams rang out. The chair, missing two legs, wobbled violently under Jiang Xing’s weight. As he began to slip, Jiang Xing cursed, “Song Xingqiu, I f—”
Again, the unfinished sentence. Again, the slam. Through his blurred vision, Jiang Xing saw a faint, cold smile on Song Xingqiu’s face as he looked down at him.
Idiot. Song Xingqiu mouthed the words silently.
Jiang Xing’s heart raced. He finally realized the truth: Song Xingqiu was a lunatic.
The lunatic Song Xingqiu struck again, this time slamming Jiang Xing’s head toward the glue-covered desk. Jiang Xing reacted just in time, blocking with his arm. His sleeve stuck to the desk; the thick, expensive uniform saved his skin.
Silence fell. The screaming students were now paralyzed with fear. If Jiang Xing had not reacted, his skin would have made direct contact with the glue.
The transfer student was a madman.
The room was so quiet you could hear the autumn wind rustling the leaves outside. They expected resistance, but nothing this violent or unhinged. These students were used to psychological dominance and “civilized” bullying. They were modern people who enjoyed the thrill of class superiority.
However, in terms of physical cruelty, they were no match for the “weeds” Song Xingqiu had seen in the slums. Children raised without guidance were naturally cruel; they did not know the limit between hitting and killing. To them, physical violence was direct, bloody, and visual.
These nobles liked to keep their cruelty private to maintain their elegant facade. They had never seen someone with the genuine intent to kill. If Jiang Xing had not been fast, he would be bleeding by now.
With just a few moves, Song Xingqiu had intimidated the entire class.
“You were the one who messed with my desk, wasn’t it?” Song Xingqiu asked leisurely, finally finishing his thought. Without giving Jiang Xing a chance to defend himself, he continued, “Since you like broken chairs and glue so much, I will give them to you.”
His tone was relaxed, devoid of tension. He patted Jiang Xing’s shoulder affectionately. “Let’s swap seats.”
He sat down in Jiang Xing’s chair and began handing Jiang Xing’s belongings to a nearby student who was frozen in fear. “Classmate, pass these books.”
The student was in the line of fire. Song Xingqiu could have handed them to Jiang Xing himself, but he chose to involve someone else. He did not use a threatening tone, and his handsome face did not look aggressive, but the student swallowed hard. It was a command, not a request.
The student looked around for help, but everyone looked away, just like the bullied student had earlier. The established rules of their “game” had been torn apart by sheer force. The predators had met a true hunter who ignored their social hierarchy and crushed everything with violence.
No one dared to stand up. Jiang Xing, the leader, was already stuck to a desk. Song Xingqiu’s lightning-fast strike had left no room for them to breathe.
The neighboring student hesitated until he felt Song Xingqiu’s gaze turn cold. Realizing Song Xingqiu was losing patience, he grabbed the books and slammed them onto Jiang Xing’s desk. A few slid to the floor, but no one cared. His hands were shaking. He could not afford to anger this madman.
Jiang Xing was a mess of shock and rage. He wanted to say he was just caught off guard, but the memory of the sheer strength in his collar and the pain in his shin was too fresh. He was no match for Song Xingqiu physically. How could someone so thin be so strong?
But he could not stay silent. If he did not say something, his reputation would be ruined forever. He gathered his courage, reminding himself that Song Xingqiu would not actually kill him in front of everyone.
“Song Xingqiu…”
Song Xingqiu looked at him. “Apologize.”
Jiang Xing was stunned. Was he hearing things? He was the one stuck to a desk, humiliated for life, and he had to apologize to the perpetrator?
“Are you going to apologize to me?” Jiang Xing stammered, his bravado replaced by cautious disbelief. He was still reeling from the violence.
“Did you call me a name just now?” Song Xingqiu asked slowly.
Jiang Xing realized he had called him a half-breed. In their world of pure-blood lineages, Song Xingqiu’s mixed heritage was an easy target. They had all assumed Song Xingqiu was fair game because the real head of the family, Song Wenyue, had ordered his ostracization.
Now, Song Xingqiu had shattered that illusion. Jiang Xing’s face turned green.
Jiang Xing struggled for a few seconds. He did not want to apologize, but when he saw Song Xingqiu’s expressionless, beautiful face, the fear returned. He lowered his head in humiliation.
“I am sorry.”
“Good,” Song Xingqiu replied, his voice thin and cold. “Don’t let there be a next time.”
His tone was calm, yet Jiang Xing reflexively tensed up as a chill ran down his spine.