Zhao Yan spun his chair toward the city lights below — Orion spread wide and restless. "No," he said flatly. "If we hit him now, cops will sniff it out. I want him to break... slowly."
"Slowly?" Chen Bo frowned.
Zhao Yan rolled the cigarette between his fingers. "That kid used to be weak. Now he's different. Strong. That means he's hiding something. I want to know what — and when I do, I'll take everything he's got. Piece by piece."
Wang San smirked, sipping his coffee. "Where do we start, boss?"
Zhao Yan's eyes drifted back to the video. Li Wen stood in the middle of the street — bloodied, defiant, smoke curling from his lips. His voice came through the phone, cold and steady:
"Campus."
Wang San froze. "Campus? What the hell does that mean?"
Zhao Yan set the phone down, voice smooth and calculated. "He's living off scholarships. Imagine what happens when the faculty sees this video. One push, and his golden-boy reputation collapses."
Chen Bo grinned, greedy and eager. "Smart. One viral post and he's done. Students will tear him apart before anyone checks the truth."
"Not enough," Zhao Yan said. "Don't just drop the video. Add stories — debts, girls, rumors. Give them something juicy. People don't need proof. They need drama."
Wang San opened his laptop, fingers already flying. "I can tweak the video, throw in effects, maybe a little background noise—"
"Don't," Zhao Yan cut him off. His voice snapped through the room like a switchblade. "Keep it raw. Real things hurt more. Once people bite, they'll make up the rest for us."
Silence fell. The only sound was the faint buzz of the screen replaying Li Wen's glare — fearless, unyielding. Zhao Yan leaned forward, eyes narrowing. "That look… that's someone who hasn't lost yet. Let's make sure he does. Slowly."
Chen Bo hesitated. "You think he'll fight back?"
Zhao Yan chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder. "Fight back? He's just a kid. He can punch, sure — but can he fight the internet?"
He pulled out his phone, typed fast, and sent the video to a contact named Black Sun. A reply popped up seconds later:
"On it. By morning, everyone will know who Li Wen really is."
Zhao Yan snuffed out his cigarette and stared at his reflection in the window. Orion's city lights flickered behind him like dying stars.
"Let the game begin," he murmured.
Morning.
Campus air felt heavier than usual. Gray sky pressed low over Orion University, ready to burst. One by one, phones lit up — messages, tags, group chats, all echoing the same headline:
"Scholarship Student Beats Five Men Bloody — Who Is Li Wen?"
Comments flooded in.
"Psycho."
"So much for model student."
"Look at his eyes — creepy as hell."
Whispers spread through the cafeteria like wildfire.
Li Wen walked in, tray in hand, his expression unreadable. Every stare followed him like pins.
"That's him…" a girl murmured. "The guy from the video."
Xiao Yu stood, waving him over, panic in her eyes. "Wen," she whispered, leaning close. "The video's everywhere — faculty groups, class chats, even the professors have seen it."
Li Wen glanced at Lin Feng's phone — the same clip looping endlessly: punches, blood, bodies on the ground. He inhaled slowly. "They don't know how it started."
"Doesn't matter," Lin Feng said bitterly. "People don't care about truth. They just want something to watch burn."
Li Wen's phone buzzed.
NOTICE: "Student Li Wen, report to the Dean's Office at 10:00 a.m. regarding last night's incident."
The cafeteria seemed to tilt for a moment. Xiao Yu's voice broke through the noise. "You're really going?"
"I have to," he said quietly. "If I run, they win."
Two hours later, the Dean's office felt more like an interrogation room.
Professor Liang sat behind his desk, glasses polished, voice clipped. Two senior lecturers and a campus security officer watched in silence.
"Li Wen," Liang began, "we've received a report — and a video. Were you involved in this altercation?"
"Yes," Li Wen answered. "But it was self-defense."
One of the lecturers leaned forward, skeptical. "The footage doesn't show that. All we see is you beating them down. Alone."
"The camera started late," Li Wen said. "They attacked first—"
"That's what everyone says," another professor interrupted coldly. "This university is not a courtroom. Public image matters."
Liang exhaled through his nose, voice firm but not cruel. "We'll conduct an internal review. Until then, you're suspended for two weeks."
The word hit like a gavel.
Li Wen stood slowly. His voice stayed calm, but something sharp flickered in his eyes. "Understood, Professor. But don't mistake this for the end."
One lecturer scoffed. "Reputation often weighs more than truth, young man."
Li Wen paused at the doorway.
"If that's true," he said softly, "then this university is already sick."
He walked out into the rain. Drops hit his jacket one by one — cold, relentless — like the start of something he couldn't yet name.