Chapter 171: School Motto
Shudao Mountain blinked, realizing something important. “Wait, Boss, when you spoke with Teacher Gao earlier, you brought up that name—Ding Ran. Is that the girl who jumped from the roof?”
Lin Huai nodded. “Yes, that’s her.”
Shudao Mountain tilted her head, confused. “I remember listening to the ghost, and she never said her name out loud. How did you know it, Boss?”
When it came to that particular subject, the older members of the squad shared a quiet, unspoken understanding. Before Lin Huai had to invent an explanation, the Young Miss gently nudged Shudao Mountain’s arm.
“That’s Boss’s private secret,” she whispered with a teasing grin. “Don’t pry too much! All you need to remember is that Boss is never wrong about these things.”
Shudao Mountain caught the hint immediately. She nodded and smoothly pivoted the topic. “So, are we dropping the librarian’s assignment to hunt for the books Ding Ran checked out instead?”
Lin Huai shook her head. “We still have to finish the librarian’s list to clear the official task. But while we search for those twelve titles, keep your eyes open for any volume Ding Ran borrowed.”
As she spoke, Lin Huai flipped to the back of the copy of Wuthering Heights in her hands.
Scratched into the final blank page were several words written in blue ballpoint ink. The handwriting was slightly childish, yet the pen had pressed down with so much force that the metal ball had torn deep grooves into the paper. It practically dripped with raw, bitter hatred:
Why don’t you want me?!
“Ding Ran poured her resentment into the books she took home,” Lin Huai explained softly, running her thumb over the rough paper. “She tried using these silent notes to catch someone’s attention, desperately hoping someone would notice her pain and reach out.”
Sorrow flashed across Cute and Sparkling’s face. “It’s so heartbreaking… She struggled all alone in the dark for so long, yet nobody ever cared.”
Milk Tea was still a student herself, making her the quickest to understand Ding Ran’s stubborn, lonely despair. She sighed with deep regret. “If only someone had discovered these silent cries for help back then… If someone had just pulled her back, none of this would have happened.”
Dragon Emerging from the Sea stared at the angry handwriting, his jaw tight. Turning around with steady purpose, he gestured toward the aisles. “Let’s find the books first. If we gather every trace Ding Ran left behind, maybe we can help her finally find peace.”
Taking Lin Huai’s lead, the twelve squad members fanned out across the towering aisles. They stopped glancing only at the catalog numbers for the librarian’s list, carefully checking every checkout card and scanning between the pages of older volumes.
“I found one!” Milk Tea whispered before long, her voice shaking with excitement.
She held up a copy of the classic essay The Sight of Father’s Back, her fingers trembling against the cover. “Ding Ran’s signature is the last one on this checkout slip. And… inside…”
Lin Huai walked over quickly, taking the slender volume.
Right next to the famous passage where the father climbs over the train platform, several jagged lines were scrawled across the white margin. The ink had sliced through the fiber:
Other people have fathers… But what about mine? His eyes only care about his precious school and his personal honors! When will he look at me? Just once!
The suffocating grief and resentment bleeding through the ink silenced the entire squad. This was no longer an ordinary student venting about a harsh teacher.
“Over here, too!” Dragon Emerging from the Sea called out from the psychology aisle, holding up Adolescent Mental Health and Counseling.
Ding Ran’s name was neatly stamped on the checkout card. On the back cover, scrawled in flaking crimson ink that looked eerily like dried nail polish, were the words:
They pretend they’re protecting me by keeping secrets. But I’m not an idiot! I know they’re splitting up. I know this family is finished! Nobody needs me. I’m just garbage nobody wants!
“I’ve got another one…” Fastest Hand at SF Express raised his arm, holding a thick text on domestic family law.
Like scattered pieces of a puzzle, the clues fell into place.
The books Ding Ran had chosen—moving from literary classics to clinical psychology, and finally to legal statutes on marriage and custody—painted a vivid picture of a deeply sensitive, precocious girl enduring unbearable pain as her home collapsed around her.
More importantly, the “father” she cursed throughout her notes clearly held immense authority within these walls.
“The Principal…” Lin Huai murmured, the final realization clicking in her mind. “Ding Ran’s father is the Principal of the school.”
A collective gasp rippled through the group.
Hungry Spirit Blue Knight clapped his hands together with a wide grin. “That means we’ve stumbled right into the hidden storyline of this entire instance! Not only can we clear the trial, but we can also trigger the top-tier secret rewards!”
“Gather every book containing Ding Ran’s writing,” Lin Huai instructed with a firm nod. “These pages are the key to unlocking the true ending.”
Moving with practiced efficiency, the squad scoured the rows until they had gathered seven books bearing Ding Ran’s desperate scribbles.
After handing over the twelve requested titles to the front desk, the system chime rang out, marking the fourth objective complete.
Carrying the seven marked volumes, the squad marched straight toward the administrative wing without stopping to rest.
The third-floor hallway was dead silent. A thick crimson carpet smothered the sound of their boots, while oil portraits of past headmasters stared down from the plaster walls with cold, lifeless eyes. At the end of the corridor stood a set of grand double doors carved with ornate, traditional patterns, radiating a solemn, heavy pressure.
Lin Huai stepped up and knocked firmly on the dark wood.
There was no verbal reply, but the latch clicked, and the heavy door swung inward by a few inches, allowing a wave of freezing air to drift into the hall.
Lin Huai pushed the door open, leading her companions across the threshold.
The office was massive and decorated with antique mahogany furniture, yet the air smelled stale, damp, and weighed down by endless sorrow.
Standing with his back to them before a grand floor-to-ceiling window was a middle-aged male ghost wearing an old-fashioned gray tunic suit. His posture was rigid and upright, yet his silhouette carried a deep, crushing loneliness.
He seemed entirely oblivious to their entrance, staring out into the bleak gray sky like a frozen stone statue.
“Principal,” Lin Huai called out softly, tapping the wooden doorframe.
The man stiffened slightly, turned around, and caught sight of the students standing before him. Walking slowly toward the heavy desk, he sank into a tall leather armchair.
“Ah, the new transfer students,” he began, his voice flat and formal. “Teacher Gao spoke very highly of your conduct, and both the Dean and the athletic instructor confirmed your remarkable talents.”
He nodded stiffly. “Very well. Since you are model students, your formal enrollment may proceed.”
He picked up a heavy brass seal to stamp their paperwork, but paused halfway, looking up through tired eyes.
“However, before I grant my approval, I must test you with one final question.”
Setting the seal down, he folded his hands over the blotter. “What is our academy’s founding motto?”
The squad froze. Not a single instructor or signpost had mentioned a motto.
“It is ‘To Strive to Be the Most Outstanding Student,'” Milk Tea’s voice rang out, clear and steady.
She met the Principal’s gaze without hesitation. “Those words are carved into the granite monument beside the front gates. We saw them when we first arrived.”
The other squad members quickly nodded in agreement.
“Very good. Your memory serves you well,” the Principal replied slowly, his tone turning heavy and scrutinizing. “Yet a school motto is not meant merely to be recited from memory; it is meant to be lived through action. Do you truly understand its weight? Are you truly worthy of being called the most outstanding students?”
Lin Huai stepped forward, laying the seven library books flat onto the polished desk.
Her expression was calm, her gaze piercing. “Principal, perhaps you should read through these pages first. When it comes to what it truly means to be your ‘most outstanding student,’ perhaps there is another answer entirely.”
She paused, letting the silence hang before whispering:
“For instance… Ding Ran?”
The name struck the room like a physical blow, instantly shattering the Principal’s carefully maintained composure.
His pupils shrank to tiny pinpricks. The faint color drained from his spectral face, and his fingers began to tremble uncontrollably against the mahogany wood.
With sudden, desperate speed, he lunged forward, snatching the topmost copy of The Sight of Father’s Back and tearing open its dog-eared pages.
