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Join the ServerTo be more precise, the principal walked in the lead, with Jiang Xiaoyu and Xiaoqi following side-by-side behind him.
As he walked, the principal couldn’t stop shivering; that female aberration composed of light was still swirling in his mind, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t banish her.
As an S-rank time-attribute aberration, he felt like paper in her presence; with a casual wave of her hand, his time-clones had been reduced to ashes, not even leaving a speck of dust behind.
Terrifying! Absolutely terrifying!
But what was even more terrifying was that such a powerful female aberration had been willing to serve as Jiang Xiaoyu’s glasses.
Thinking of this, the principal shivered again.
But this time, the feeling was different. The previous shivering had been born of fear; this one was born of excitement.
What kind of level must someone be at to make an SSS-rank light-attribute female aberration act as a pair of glasses?
The principal had lived long enough to see more aberrations than the lamps in the teaching building, but he had never witnessed anything like this.
Not only did Jiang Xiaoyu from City A have a powerful background, but his supernatural power was unfathomable. As long as he took good care of him and clung firmly to this gold-plated thigh, wouldn’t success and fame be just around the corner?
At this thought, the principal’s steps grew lighter. His black-soled cloth shoes seemed to spring with each stride, and the arc of his smile became impossible to suppress.
Xiaoqi, on the other hand, didn’t have many thoughts in her head.
She walked alongside Jiang Xiaoyu, quiet and still, just like the night before. Her feelings for him were complex—intimacy, curiosity, reliance.
There was a scent on him that she found deeply comforting, like a quilt that had been baked in the winter sun; it was warm and made her want to be close, so she followed him.
As for his true identity, his background, or his strength, she didn’t really care.
Jiang Xiaoyu’s inner monologue, however, was entirely different from theirs.
He was truly a newcomer in every sense of the word.
He squinted, trying his best to size up the teaching building: dark gray exterior walls, densely packed windows, slightly taller and older than the school buildings in his rural county.
He swallowed hard.
The nervousness that any transfer student should feel came flooding in.
What was the new school like? Were the classmates easy to get along with? Were the teachers strict? What if there were school bullies picking on new students?
Though he was an adult, at Huangshan Vocational Institute, he was a freshman, and freshmen were usually prime targets for bullying.
At this thought, Jiang Xiaoyu inched closer to Xiaoqi and asked in a low voice, “Cousin, are the classmates easy to get along with?”
Xiaoqi glanced at him.
“Easy,” she said, her tone flat. “Everyone is very respectful.”
“That good?” Jiang Xiaoyu was surprised, his eyes widening. “In the class I used to be in, there were always a few troublemakers who didn’t study and only knew how to pick on the honest students.”
Xiaoqi didn’t respond.
Jiang Xiaoyu added, “The environment here is pretty good then.”
“Used to be,” Xiaoqi said.
Jiang Xiaoyu paused, then realized, clapping his hands. “Expelled! My goodness, this school has strict management. That’s good, too; strictness has its benefits. It saves those troublemakers from ruining things for the other students.”
Seeing Xiaoqi remain silent, Jiang Xiaoyu grinned at her. “Don’t worry, cousin. Your older brother isn’t the type to stir up trouble. I promise to study honestly and behave myself; I absolutely won’t cause any problems.”
Xiaoqi looked at him for two seconds.
“Not afraid of trouble,” she said.
Then she turned her head back and continued walking.
Jiang Xiaoyu followed, though he couldn’t help but feel that the look his cousin had just given him was a bit strange. He couldn’t quite put his finger on why—someone with 1,500-degree myopia couldn’t even see the other person’s expression clearly, let alone analyze the look in their eyes.
The three of them reached the third floor.
The corridor at the stairwell was slightly brighter than the dorm building, with a few slightly more luminous spirit lamps hanging on the walls.
Even though they were still that sickly, dismal green, they allowed Jiang Xiaoyu to make out the general outline of the corridor.
Classrooms lined both sides of the hallway, with nameplates hanging on the doors. A clear, rhythmic chanting drifted from a few of the rooms—no, it didn’t sound like reading; it sounded like incantations, something about “peeling skin and pulling tendons” or “grinding bones to dust.” It was probably an ancient literature class.
The principal stopped in front of one of the classrooms.
Jiang Xiaoyu squinted at the sign on the door. He could vaguely make out a few characters, likely “Academy Class Seven” or something similar.
The principal turned around, his smile blossoming like a chrysanthemum. “Xiaoqi, go in first and call Teacher Zhao Lu out.”
Xiaoqi nodded, pushed the classroom door open, and walked inside.
The principal turned back to Jiang Xiaoyu, his smile widening by another three percent. “Young Master Jiang, please wait here for Teacher Zhao Lu with me.”
“You got it, Principal, whatever you say.” Jiang Xiaoyu stood dutifully at the doorway, hands hanging straight at his sides like a grade-schooler waiting to meet his homeroom teacher.
Watching his well-behaved demeanor, the principal nodded inwardly—truly worthy of being a big shot from City A; this art of playing the pig to eat the tiger was absolutely master-class.
Shortly after, the classroom door opened once more.
A tall woman stepped out, dressed in a form-fitting professional suit. It was likely a teacher’s uniform, accentuating her crisp, sharp silhouette. Her long hair was tied into a high ponytail, and in her hand she held a long ruler—pitch-black from end to end, faintly gleaming with a cold light.
She stood there radiating a commanding aura, both dashing and formidable, prompting Jiang Xiaoyu to praise her inwardly.
The principal cleared his throat, raising a hand to introduce her: “Young Master Jiang, this is your Class Seven foreign language teacher and homeroom teacher, Teacher Zhao Lu.”
Then he turned toward Zhao Lu, his tone carrying a note of solemnity: “Teacher Zhao Lu, this is Jiang Xiaoyu, Young Master Jiang from City A.”
Jiang Xiaoyu bowed hurriedly, as polite as polite could be: “Hello, Teacher Zhao!”
Zhao Lu’s gaze fell upon Jiang Xiaoyu.
She sized him up from head to toe—eyes narrowed into slits, a crooked collar, a silly grin, and a relaxed posture standing beside the principal without the slightest hint of stage fright.
Zhao Lu was startled inwardly.
How did a living human end up in a school of aberrations? Entering the classroom, he’ll survive for a few seconds at most.
Yet, the principal usually wore a stern face toward everyone, barely bothering to acknowledge the dean of students when receiving work reports. Today, however, when speaking to this young man, his tone, his posture—it was clearly… respectful? No, it was one notch above respectful; it was cautious and tender, as if he were attending to some extraordinary VIP.
The principal saw through the doubt in Zhao Lu’s heart.
He shot her a glance, then took a few steps to the side, signaling for her to follow.
Teacher Zhao Lu followed closely behind.
The two walked to the corner of the corridor, about a dozen paces away from Jiang Xiaoyu and Xiaoqi.
The principal cast a glance back—Jiang Xiaoyu was standing dutifully in his spot, waiting patiently. Only then did he drop his voice, speaking at a volume meant only for Zhao Lu’s ears.
“Teacher Zhao Lu,” the principal’s voice dropped to a faint murmur, “the son of Madam Lan has come to our school to pad his resume; you must take good care of him for me.”
Zhao Lu’s eyes went wide in an instant.
“Principal?” Her voice dropped as well, yet it couldn’t conceal the shock vibrating within. “City A… that Madam Lan?”
“Precisely!”
A supreme overlord commanding the territory of City A, an entity whose single foot-stomp made the entire underworld tremble three times. A single word from her could bring a clan of aberrations to prosperity; a single word from her could also reduce a millennium-old clan of aberrations to ash.
Her son had run all the way to Huangquan Vocational Institute to study?
The principal nodded heavily, his expression exceptionally grave.
Then he leaned in closer, dropping his voice even lower: “Teacher Zhao Lu, do not be deceived by his appearance as a living human. This person should be a super-aberration surpassing Xiaoqi.”
Zhao Lu’s body stiffened violently.
Surpassing Xiaoqi?
Who was Xiaoqi? A peak S-rank vengeful spirit, the hidden overlord of Huangquan Vocational Institute, a growth-type aberration that was immortal and indestructible. Throughout the entire institute, including all the faculty, who was willing to provoke an entity capable of infinite vengeance? She was the ceiling of this school, the strongest student Huangquan Institute had ever seen in its history.
And now the principal was telling her that the squinting Jiang Xiaoyu standing in the hallway with that simple, honest smile was even stronger than Xiaoqi?
The supernatural power within Zhao Lu churned uncontrollably.
A colossal black shadow rose from behind her back—it was the phantom of a sword-wielding evil deity, pitch-black all over, several zhangs tall, holding a frost-bitten greatsword in its hand.
This was Zhao Lu’s innate natal apparition of the Summoning branch; usually tucked away inside her body, it only broke out uncontrollably when her emotions underwent violent upheavals.
At this moment, that colossal phantom trembled along with Zhao Lu’s shivers, its massive frame shaking like a sieve, while the greatsword in its grip let out a low, buzzing hum.
The temperature in the hallway plunged several degrees in an instant.
“Surpassing Xiaoqi?” Zhao Lu’s voice trembled, tinged with a thread of sheer disbelief. “How is that possible! Principal, you know better than I do that Xiaoqi is…”
The principal raised a hand to cut her off; naturally, he knew Xiaoqi’s terrifying strength.
“Teacher Zhao Lu, he just walked out after spending a night in 1314,” the principal enunciated each word, “safe and sound.”
Zhao Lu’s pupils contracted violently.
1314! That room that ate people alive without spitting out the bones—the aberrations who had entered and walked out alive could be counted on one hand, let alone emerging completely unharmed. Even the principal himself wouldn’t dare step foot inside lightly.
“Furthermore,” the principal added, “he even provided the school with an SSS-rank rule.”
The phantom of the evil deity behind Zhao Lu shook even more violently, the frost-light on the greatsword beginning to flicker erratically.
“Principal,” Zhao Lu’s voice was as dry as sandpaper scraping against wood, “do you know what his supernatural attribute is?”
The principal’s expression grew even more cautious, so guarded it was as if he were sharing a forbidden secret.
“I didn’t dare ask,” he said, “but I saw with my own eyes an SSS-rank female aberration willing to serve as his pair of glasses.”
Zhao Lu drew a sharp, sudden breath.
An SSS-rank female aberration?
Serving as glasses?
Her brain was buzzing, as if ten thousand nether-bees were swarming inside.
The principal took another half-step forward, his voice reduced almost to a wisp of breath: “In my view, he belongs to your Summoning branch.”
Zhao Lu’s body jolted again.
The Summoning branch.
The Summoning branch of Huangquan Vocational Institute had once known glory, producing a few top-tier summoners whose names shook the underworld.
But that was ancient history.
Over the past few decades, the Summoning branch had languished in decline, unable to even pass the preliminaries in the national competitions.
Teachers from other departments privately referred to the Summoning aberrations as “trash.” She felt suffocated and bitter inside, yet was entirely powerless to change it.
Yet now—
Zhao Lu lifted her head, looking at Jiang Xiaoyu, who was chatting with Xiaoqi at the end of the corridor.
A super-aberration surpassing Xiaoqi, of the Summoning branch, and sitting in her class.
Her eyes lit up with blazing brilliance.
That light seemed almost tangible, like two searing flames burning in her eye sockets. The phantom behind her ceased shaking—not out of fading fear, but shifting entirely into fierce excitement. The greatsword blazed with blinding, frosty radiance once more, blood-red veins surfacing across its pitch-black blade.
“Principal,” Zhao Lu took a deep breath, “I know what must be done.”
The principal looked at her, nodding in satisfaction.
“Protect him well,” the principal warned. “Young masters from the upper echelons love playing the pig to eat the tiger. His disguise as a living human surely has its reasons; do not expose him. For matters he finds inconvenient to handle personally, you clean them up for him.”
Zhao Lu’s eyes turned slightly cold, her voice dropping: “What about the school rules?”
The principal gritted his teeth.
Huangquan Vocational Institute had strict regulations; teachers were not permitted to kill students at will, focusing primarily on disciplinary action.
“They can be broken,” the principal squeezed out three words from between his teeth. “Let us place our bets on Jiang Xiaoyu! If something happens, I’ll take the fall!”
Zhao Lu nodded fiercely, and the phantom behind her nodded heavily in unison, the blood-red veins on the greatsword weeping fresh blood.
“Understood!”
The adventure continues! If you loved this chapter, The Fake Young Master Only Wants to Study After Rebirth is a must-read. Click here to start!
Read : The Fake Young Master Only Wants to Study After Rebirth
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