SW - 53

Within just a few dozen seconds of Lu Chi’s quick pace, the two of them arrived at the senior year teaching building.

He let go of her hand and exhaled deeply. The scene from moments ago kept replaying in his mind, causing his heart to race uncontrollably. His brows furrowed tightly as he tried to shake off the lingering unease.

Seeing that his expression was troubled, Tang Yin steadied him by holding onto his arm. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Lu Chi shook his head but didn’t say anything.

Students rushed past them, some moving so fast they didn’t even notice their books falling.

“She jumped!”

“Someone jumped!”

“So much blood—it’s terrifying!”

Tang Yin bent down to pick up the dropped books and called out, “Hey! You dropped your books!”

One of the students turned back, and a boy ran over to take the books. “Thank you, thank you.”

Before he could walk away with the books, Tang Yin stopped him. “Wait—what were you talking about earlier?”

At the mention of it, the boy’s face turned pale again. Trembling, he stammered, “Didn’t you see it? That girl fell from upstairs on the bridge just now. There was blood everywhere!”

With that, he hurriedly left.

Tang Yin instinctively turned to look, but Lu Chi blocked her view. “Don’t.”

She tilted her head slightly and asked, “Are you trying to protect me from seeing it?”

After a few seconds, Lu Chi slowly nodded.

Tang Yin sighed involuntarily. She wasn’t as fragile as he seemed to think, but she realized now that he must have been deeply shaken. No wonder his expression had been so troubled earlier.

The two stood there for several minutes as people passed by, until the wailing sound of an ambulance echoed near the school gate.

Finally snapping out of her thoughts, Tang Yin said, “Let’s go.”

She reached out and took Lu Chi’s hand, gripping it firmly in hers. Though she couldn’t fully enclose his hand, the warmth of her touch still brought comfort.

“Don’t do this again,” she said softly. “It’s not like you weren’t scared either. If something happens, we’ll face it together. I’m not that weak.”

Lu Chi remained silent, unable to utter a single word.

Under Tang Yin’s intense gaze, he finally gave a slight nod.

In less than half a day, news of the suicide attempt spread throughout the entire school.

The reason was simple: it had happened during class transition time. Many students, both from the high school and middle school sections, would pass by the skybridge in the administrative building.

By sheer coincidence, those passing through at that specific moment had witnessed the horrifying scene firsthand.

Many were left traumatized. Even hours later, they were still distracted, unable to shake off the terror of seeing the girl fall from the building right before their eyes, leaving behind a pool of blood.

It was utterly horrifying.

Numerous students immediately requested leave to go home. The homeroom teachers had no choice but to approve; clearly, the students were in no state to study and would only grow more anxious. It was better for them to rest at home.

As a result, many classrooms suddenly had empty seats.

Although Tang Yin hadn’t seen the scene herself because Lu Chi had shielded her, others in her class had. During breaks, she could hear their murmured discussions.

“I was just passing by when it happened—I almost died of fright. If my roommate hadn’t pulled me away, I probably would’ve collapsed right there.”

“I’m never walking that way again. It was too terrifying. I’ve developed PTSD. Every time I close my eyes, I can picture the scene.”

Over time, Tang Yin pieced together what had happened.

The person who jumped was a girl. The administrative building had five floors, and though the skybridge windows were supposed to act as barriers, she had opened one herself. Once she fell, there was no sound—no chance of survival.

When a student jumps, it naturally affects not only their own family but also the school.

The fourth period of the afternoon was supposed to be Chinese class taught by homeroom teacher Zhou Cheng. However, given the magnitude of the incident, it was changed into a class meeting to help ease everyone’s emotions and allow the students to relax.

With ten minutes left in the class, Tang Yin suddenly raised her hand and stood up. “Teacher, I need to use the restroom.”

Zhou Cheng didn’t think much of it. “Alright, go ahead.”

From the corner of his eye, Lu Chi caught a glimpse of the corridor just as Tang Yin dashed out of sight, her long ponytail bouncing behind her.

He knew where she was going.

The principal’s office was in the administrative building.

Tang Yin sprinted out of the senior year teaching building and arrived beneath the skybridge of the administrative building. She paused, noticing that the ground had already been cleaned. However, upon closer inspection, she could still spot faint traces of blood in the cracks.

Unconsciously, she looked up. The fifth floor was high, and the tiled surface below made it clear that survival was impossible.

What kind of pressure could drive someone to jump? What kind of obstacle could only be overcome by death? She had never experienced such despair and couldn’t understand.

After a long pause, Tang Yin turned and entered the building, running up to the third floor.

As she pushed open the door to the principal’s office, her gaze met that of several directors and the principal. Calmly, she closed the door behind her.

Tang Youwei asked, “Why aren’t you in class? What are you doing here?”

“I want to ask about the incident with the girl who jumped.”

The disciplinary director immediately scolded her. “You’re a student. Focus on your own responsibilities. Go back to class—leave this to the adults.”

Tang Yin replied firmly, “I’m not leaving.”

Without hesitation, she strode over to the sofa at the back and sat down.

The disciplinary director grew visibly irritated. “Tang Yin, you’re out of control! Skipping class—what do you think you’re doing? Is this really any of your business?”

The other directors in the room were familiar with Tang Yin and well aware of her personality. They knew reasoning with her would be futile. The high school grade director simply gave up.

Tang Youwei sighed. “Fine. Let’s continue.”

The disciplinary director redirected his attention and continued, frowning. “The student was Cheng Xin from Class 1 of Senior Year 3. She lived in Jiashui Residential Area. Her parents are currently at the hospital. The reason for the jump is still unclear—we’ll wait for the police investigation.”

He had been napping when he was abruptly woken up with the news. He nearly had a heart attack. How could something like this happen? A good student—gone, just like that.

Cheng Xin’s homeroom teacher chimed in. “Cheng Xin was usually quiet. Her family situation wasn’t great—her parents were divorced, and she lived with her mother. Their standard of living was below average. She worked hard in class, but her grades weren’t ideal.”

The teacher had genuinely liked her and hoped her efforts would pay off. No one expected this outcome.

“I once called her parents for a meeting, but neither showed up. Just how neglectful were they toward their daughter?”

Tang Yin listened silently, then quietly slipped out without disturbing them further.

Whatever had happened, the college entrance exam was approaching. School life had to go on.

After evening self-study dismissal, due to the incident at the administrative building skybridge, no one dared to walk that way at night. Everyone opted to detour through the outer path behind the cafeteria.

The area beneath the skybridge had become taboo.

Even taking the outer route, the atmosphere was somber. Gone were the usual sounds of laughter and playful banter. Everyone walked in silence, their pace noticeably quicker.

Tang Yin and Lu Chi walked side by side along the perimeter wall.

Neither spoke. Tang Yin’s mind raced, trying to comprehend how something like this could happen.

Suddenly, Lu Chi asked, “Do you… feel pressure?”

Tang Yin remained silent for a long while before responding. “Yes, I do. There are so many people in this country. I’m afraid we won’t end up at the same university. I’m afraid someone will take you away from me.”

Though her grades were similar to Lu Chi’s at the moment, she knew the gap between them. Lu Chi’s thinking was far quicker than hers—this was evident in physics alone.

Universities located close to each other were rare, let alone prestigious ones. If they didn’t attend the same school, it would inevitably mean a long-distance relationship.

And the risks of long-distance relationships went without saying.

No matter how confident she was, she couldn’t compete with time.

Lu Chi hadn’t expected this answer. He stopped walking and looked at her. “Not being in the same school…”

Before he could finish, Tang Yin interrupted. “Lu Chi, let me teach you how to talk.”

Lu Chi froze, his lips pressing tightly together.

To avoid misunderstanding, Tang Yin rummaged through her bag and pulled out a test paper she had borrowed from him previously. Though she had returned it earlier, she now retrieved it again.

In the darkness of night, she leaned closer to Lu Chi and explained, “I want to hear you read this poem aloud—in its entirety.”

She placed the test paper into his hands.

Though it was only three short lines, the sweetness practically bubbled over. It was like cherry blossoms drifting down from spring branches or an ice-cold soda cracked open in summer.

She couldn’t see Lu Chi’s expression in the dim light, but she waited patiently.

After a long pause, she heard him respond. “Alright.”

Tang Yin assumed waiting for the police investigation results would suffice.

Who could have predicted that the next day, a long banner and a whiteboard with black text would appear outside the school gates?

Lu Ye returned from the small supermarket nearby, noticed the crowd gathering, and went to take a look. When he came back, he reported, “Her parents are crying outside, demanding compensation from the school. They’re blaming the school for her death.”

Several people who had initially sympathized with the girl couldn’t help but speak up. “What nonsense! She jumped herself—it has nothing to do with the school.”

“They’re just trying to extort money. What kind of parents are these? Disgusting.”

“If I had parents like that, I’d probably feel suffocated too. No wonder she did this.”

Tang Yin returned to hear such comments and felt a surge of unnamed anger rise within her. Without hesitation, she headed straight for the school gate.

“Will the school compensate them?”

“The police haven’t even released their findings yet, and this family is already crying and making accusations. Are they trying to outdo the police?”

The bell rang, and the crowd dispersed, returning to their seats and settling into silence.

Lu Chi came back from the office, his gaze scanning the rear door. When Tang Yin still hadn’t returned halfway through the class, he asked Lu Ye, “Did you see…?”

Lu Ye cut him off. “Tang Yin? She ran out before class started. I don’t know where she went.”

With that, he turned back to join Tang Ming in condemning the girl’s parents’ behavior.

Lu Chi’s sharp ears picked up on something. A suspicion formed, and his expression darkened. He quickly raised his hand.

The physics teacher asked, “What is it?”

“Bathroom.”

“Alright, go ahead.”

Lu Chi’s long strides carried him out of the classroom. As he descended the stairs, he unconsciously quickened his pace. By the time he exited the teaching building, he was practically running.

Since it was during class hours, there were fewer people at the school gate. Only a few leaders remained, trying to persuade the distraught parents to move the discussion indoors.

“What’s the point of arguing out here? Let’s settle this calmly inside. Hanging banners won’t solve anything. Mr. and Mrs. Cheng, we understand your grief, but…”

Cheng Xin’s father stiffened his neck. “I’m not going anywhere! Your school isn’t getting off easy!”

Beside him, Cheng Xin’s mother continued to sob. “My daughter jumped from your school! How can you deny responsibility? I sent her here alive, and now she’s lying in the morgue…”

Faced with such persistent and unreasonable individuals, the school leaders felt utterly helpless. No matter what they said, the parents refused to listen, instead repeating their demands over and over.

They couldn’t help but think that these parents were fabricating excuses. Just one day after their daughter’s death, they had already prepared banners and signs. Clearly, their focus wasn’t on mourning their child.

This realization shed light on Cheng Xin’s introverted personality.

With parents like these, it was no wonder her life had been unhappy. Perhaps the reasons behind her suicide included her parents’ influence.

Though they thought this, they wouldn’t say it aloud.

The cause of Cheng Xin’s suicide was still unclear, yet her parents were already blaming the school. The implications were obvious.

Tang Yin watched coldly for a while before stepping forward.

Cheng Xin’s parents were still crying, repeatedly accusing the school of responsibility for their daughter’s death.

Tang Yin found their words chilling.

The school hadn’t denied responsibility, nor would they willingly accept blame without evidence. Once the cause was clear, appropriate measures would be taken. This current spectacle was meaningless.

She pitied Cheng Xin.

Her voice cut through the noise. “Your daughter has just passed away, and here you are seeking compensation. Aren’t you afraid of breaking her heart?”

At her words, the wailing at the school gate subsided somewhat.

The disciplinary director, seeing Tang Yin there, sighed inwardly at her meddling. “Go back to class. This has nothing to do with you.”

Ignoring him, Tang Yin prepared to continue speaking.

But Cheng Xin’s father suddenly shouted, “Who’s this little girl? What business is it of yours? Mind your own affairs!”

“Excuse me,” Tang Yin retorted coolly, stepping forward. “The principal is my father, so I have every right to intervene. If you keep harassing us without evidence, don’t blame me for calling the police.”

She held up her phone threateningly.

The school feared reputational damage and wouldn’t escalate matters. Even if the police came, they couldn’t detain anyone, rendering the threat ultimately ineffective.

Still, she only wanted to scare them a little.

Upon hearing her words, Cheng Xin’s father and mother—who had been sitting on the ground crying—turned pale with rage. They began hurling insults, their language vile.

Tang Yin tuned out their curses.

The disciplinary director pulled her aside. “Young lady, stop interfering. Go back to class. These matters are for us to handle.”

Before he could finish, Tang Yin spotted Lu Chi in the distance and waved him over.

To her surprise, Lu Chi’s expression changed instantly. “Quick—move out of the way!”

He sprinted toward her, reaching her side in just a few seconds.

The wind was strong that day, and Tang Yin didn’t catch his words clearly. Confused, she asked, “What’s wrong?”

Lu Chi’s pupils contracted sharply. He shoved the disciplinary director aside and yanked Tang Yin toward him, positioning himself in front of her protectively.

The disciplinary director, mid-sentence, was knocked aside. “Ouch!”

Turning her head, Tang Yin saw a flying board hurtling toward them. Before she could react, she tackled Lu Chi to the ground. The two of them fell together.

The whiteboard crashed to the ground beside them with a loud thud. Its edges, adorned with protruding nails, tore through Tang Yin’s uniform.