A week later, Cangnan City No. 6 High School.
"Hey, is that guy from our school? Why's there a cloth over his eyes?"
"He's wearing our school uniform, so yeah."
"He's holding a white cane too—looks like he's blind."
"Weird, never seen him before."
"Probably one of the new freshmen."
"Gotta admit, those black bandages over his eyes actually make him look kinda handsome."
"But how's a blind person gonna take classes? We don't have special classes here, do we?"
"No idea."
"…"
As expected, the moment Lin Qiye stepped through the school gates, he drew plenty of attention.
But he was used to scenes like this. Without breaking stride, he walked along the maple-lined avenue toward the teaching building, ignoring the curious stares.
Truth be told, he'd already prepared himself for trouble before coming here. In so many brainless web novels, a situation like this practically guaranteed that a few so-called "school bullies" would jump out to mock him, setting the stage for a glorious face-slapping later.
Yet… no troublemakers appeared. Instead, quite a few students approached him, asking if he needed help.
Strangely, that left Lin Qiye with a faint sense of disappointment.
Then again, these were modern students—products of nine years of compulsory education. People like that weren't exactly lining up to pick on someone disabled. And even if a small clique wanted to, "loyalty" was more about helping your buddies handle trouble—not about bullying the vulnerable. Harass a blind kid, and by the next day, you'd drown in spit and shame.
Lin Qiye made his way upstairs and soon found his new classroom—Grade 2, Class 2. He had completed his first year at a special school, so this transfer technically made him a "mid-term" student.
From TV dramas and novels, he knew transfer students often meant loneliness, isolation, even misery. By the second year, friendship circles were already well-formed. If you didn't take the initiative, you'd stay on the outside.
Lin Qiye was very aware that he wasn't the "take the initiative" type.
Even if he'd been with them since the first year, his cold, keep-your-distance demeanor would probably have left him just as alone.
Not that he minded. He liked the quiet—no one to bother him, time to focus, a calm mind…
If anything, forcing him to build relationships would feel unnatural.
He took a deep breath outside the classroom door, steadied himself, and stepped inside.
The moment he entered, the noisy chatter stopped dead. The air felt suddenly still…
One second. Two. Three…
Just as he was about to say something, the room erupted.
"You're Lin Qiye, right? Your seat's ready—over there."
"Are you visually impaired? Let me guide you."
"Careful, the aisle's cluttered… hey, you—move your bag!"
"…!"
Before he could react, several classmates had gathered around, carefully leading him to his seat. A tall boy even took his schoolbag and slung it over his own shoulder.
Surrounded like that, Lin Qiye reached his desk without incident.
Lin Qiye: …?
This… was not how the script was supposed to go.
"Lin Qiye, I'm the class monitor, Jiang Qian. If you need anything, come to me." The ponytailed girl patted her chest confidently.
"I'm Li Yifei—if you need a hand getting to lunch, just holler." The tall boy grinned.
"And me, I'm Wang Shao—"
"…!"
One after another, students greeted him warmly.
For a moment, Lin Qiye was at a loss.
Honestly, this was *way* different from what he'd imagined.
"You… know me?" he asked, looking puzzled.
"The homeroom teacher told us," Jiang Qian said. "But what really stuck in our minds was your aunt. The day before you transferred, she stood right here with a basket of eggs, giving each of us one and asking us to take care of you…"
A bolt of thunder seemed to crash in Lin Qiye's mind, freezing him in place.
He couldn't even process what his classmates said next. His thoughts were filled with the image of a middle-aged woman, back hunched, carrying a basket of freshly boiled eggs, earnestly asking for their help.
"Please, my nephew's eyes aren't good. He's a bit cold-tempered. Please watch out for him…"
"You're such a pretty girl—my nephew's handsome too, you'll like him…"
"Qiye's just cold on the outside, warm on the inside. Once you get to know him, you'll get along great…"
"…!"
At some point, the black cloth over his eyes grew faintly damp.
"…Auntie…" he whispered.
While the chatter continued, a female teacher entered, books tucked under her arm. Spotting Lin Qiye in the front row, she gave a few words of welcome, then introduced him to the class before beginning the lesson.
"Turn to page ninety-one. Today we'll be talking about the history and challenges of modern Great Xia…"
Perhaps because Lin Qiye was new, the teacher skipped the usual skim-read and went straight into the lecture.
"A hundred years ago, Earth still had over two hundred nations spread across seven continents and four oceans, each with its own customs and culture. Even without advanced technology, you could take a ship to another country and experience that cultural exchange firsthand…
"But on March 9th of that year, a mysterious fog appeared out of nowhere in Antarctica, spreading at terrifying speed. In just twenty-four hours, it swallowed nearly 98% of the planet's surface.
"Human-built skyscrapers, ancient forests, the deepest oceans—everything was covered. Countless nations fell silent, completely cut off.
"And yet… just before reaching Great Xia's borders, the fog stopped.
"No one knows why—it simply halted there.
"Over the last century, countless theories have been proposed. Some say the fog is alive and stopped after 'feeding' on 98% of the world. Others believe Great Xia's location produces a special magnetic field that blocks it. Some claim it's the protection of five thousand years of cultural heritage.
"The fog defies human understanding. Neither light, sound, nor any form of detection can penetrate it. No one knows if the countries consumed a century ago still exist.
"Experts believe the survival chances inside are extremely low—because whether inhaled or touched, the fog is lethal.
"Over the past hundred years, we've sent countless well-equipped expeditions into it, but not one person has returned.
"Fifty years ago, we launched our first satellite. From space, images showed the entire Earth a pale gray—except for Great Xia, a single untouched land.
"Today, Great Xia stands like an island in the void. We… may be the last survivors on this planet.
"That's why March 9th, the day the fog appeared, is remembered every year as *Survival Day*."