Breaking Free: Love & Rebellion at Blackthorn Academy.-Chapter 54: PAST-TWLEVE.

The hum of the classroom buzzed softly in the background—pages turning, pens scratching, half-hearted murmurs among students waiting for the teacher to arrive. Hua Rong sat near the window, her cheek resting on her palm, eyelids heavy with exhaustion. Her thoughts circled like a restless storm cloud, replaying the image of that suspicious man peering into the cafeteria—and the name he uttered.

Zhao Mingyu.

Just the thought made her jaw clench.

"Hua Rong!" a gentle voice cut through her haze.

She blinked and looked up to see Lin Yumo, a classmate with kind eyes and a dimpled smile, standing beside her desk. "Are you okay? You spaced out completely."

She straightened up quickly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear and forcing a smile. "Yeah... yeah, I'm fine," she said, rubbing at her eyes. "Just didn't sleep much."

Lin Yumo chuckled, lowering himself into the seat in front of her. "Figured. You look like you just came out of a four-day exam nightmare."

"Close enough," she muttered.

From across the room, a smug voice piped up. "Well, how could she sleep properly?"

She knew that voice.

Jiang Weiren.

He leaned back in his chair with that ever-present smirk, his fingers tapping idly on his desk. "She was busy playing cafeteria maid for her mom last night."

The words weren't even that sharp, but it was the way he said them—coated with that slick superiority, his tone dripping with mockery. Hua Rong's smile dropped instantly, her lips pressing into a thin line.

Lin Yumo shot Weiren a warning glance. "Come on, man. Don't start."

Before Hua Rong could retort, her friend Mei Suyin, sitting beside her, quickly touched her arm. "Please don't fight today," she whispered, eyes pleading. "It's too early for a battlefield."

Hua Rong took a breath and let the insult roll off her shoulders. Barely.

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She leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, and muttered under her breath, "I'm ignoring him for now. Not because I can't deal with him."

Weiren raised an eyebrow as if amused she hadn't snapped back. "Wow, the princess really is tired.

"Don't talk like that, Weiren," Lin Yumo said firmly, turning halfway in his seat. His brows furrowed with something close to disappointment. "Hua Rong really helped her mother. You don't have to be such a jerk all the time."

"Oh yeah?" Weiren leaned back, arms folded behind his head, wearing that signature grin that always stirred trouble. "Sometimes I wonder," he said lazily, loud enough for the whole class to hear, "how her mother makes a living all alone. I mean... maybe she seduces rich men who visit that shabby little cafeteria."

The class froze.

A sharp silence dropped like a guillotine.

For a second, all Hua Rong could do was stare. Her ears rang with a pulsing hum. The words felt like shards lodged in her chest. And then—

CRACK.

Her fist collided with Weiren's jaw so fast and hard that the chair he was leaning back on skidded and flipped. He hit the ground with a sickening thud, a shocked gasp echoing through the classroom. Blood dripped from his nose as he blinked up, dazed.

Weiren wiped his face, looked at the blood on his fingers, and laughed through gritted teeth. "Tch. Seems like I hit a nerve. Maybe it was the truth, seeing how fast you snapped."

That did it.

Hua Rong was on him before anyone could blink again. Her knee pressed into his chest, one hand gripping his collar, the other hammering down punch after punch.

"You—don't—talk—about—my—mother!" she screamed between hits, every word landing with a blow.

"Weiren!" someone shouted.

Students scattered, chairs screeching as they moved back. Some froze in shock, others started filming with their phones.

Weiren, caught beneath her, struggled to block her fists, swinging once in retaliation, barely clipping her arm.

But she didn't flinch. Didn't stop

She grabbed him by the collar before he could react and yanked him up. Another fist slammed into his ribs. Then one to the gut. His breath came out in a wheeze.

"You talk trash like that again," she growled, pinning him against the desk, "and I swear—"

A flailing arm swung toward her in desperation. She caught it, twisted it, and slammed his elbow down on the table, making him cry out.

"Enough!!"

The door burst open.

Teacher Ace, tall and imposing with his silver-rimmed glasses and ever-stoic face, marched into the room. His eyes flicked over the scene—Weiren bruised and bleeding, Hua Rong holding his collar like she was about to dropkick him across the floor.

"What the hell is going on here?" he barked.

"She—She just attacked me!" Weiren cried, holding his side as he stumbled back.

"She what?" Ace narrowed his gaze. "Hua Rong?"

"She insulted no one," Lin Yumo interjected, stepping forward. "He said something disgusting about her mother."

Ace looked between them. His frown deepened. "That's enough. Both of you—outside. Now."

Hua Rong let go of Weiren's collar, but not before sending one final, icy glare that could've turned blood to frost. She stepped over the fallen chair and walked out without a word, her fists still clenched, trembling slightly—not from regret, but from the sheer rage still simmering beneath her skin.

Behind her, Weiren staggered after, muttering curses under his breath and spitting a bit of blood onto the floor.

Inside the classroom, no one made a sound.

...

The office air was suffocating—thick with unspoken judgment and silence that buzzed louder than noise.

Hua Rong sat stiffly in the corner, her eyes fixated on the scuffed tiles beneath her shoes. Her fingers were clenched together, still faintly red and trembling from the earlier fight. No matter how many times she tried to calm her breath, the image of Weiren's bloody nose and the startled faces around her kept flashing in her mind.

The door clicked open.

She looked up—and immediately wished she hadn't.

Her mother stood there, framed by the doorway, still wearing her flour-dusted cafeteria apron, her brows drawn tight with worry. She stepped in quietly, her soft shoes barely making a sound against the tile.

"I'm so sorry for the trouble," she said with a short bow to the teacher.

The teacher cleared his throat, handing her a form. "She's suspended for three days. You've already been notified. This is the written notice. You'll have to sign it."

Madam Rong signed it without a word. Her hand shook just slightly.

She turned to her daughter. "Let's go."

They didn't speak as they exited the building. The sun was already dipping, casting long shadows across the campus. When they reached the edge of the school gates, Hua Yuxi finally spoke

"They told me what happened."

Hua Rong kept her eyes on the ground, the crunch of gravel beneath their shoes the only sound between them for a moment.

"They told me... you hit him. In front of the whole class."

She hesitated. "I—"

"You promised me, Rong'er." Her mother stopped walking and turned, her expression unreadable. "Back then. You said no more fighting. That was your one promise to me."

Hua Rong's shoulders tensed. "He said things. About you."

"I know what people say." Her mother's voice grew softer, not gentler—just tired. "I've heard worse. I've lived with worse."

"I couldn't let it go," Hua Rong murmured, throat tight. "He crossed the line."

"And you crossed another."

Her mother's eyes weren't angry. Just... dimmed. Like a candle slowly flickering out. "Do you know what it feels like," she said, "to spend every day telling others my daughter deserves a chance—only to find out she threw it away the moment it got hard?"

Hua Rong flinched. "I didn't mean to disappoint you."

"I know." She sighed and looked away. "But you did."

Those words didn't shout. They didn't slam into her like fists or sharp scolding. But somehow, they cut deeper than any of that ever could.

"I don't need you to protect me, Hua Rong," her mother said, more gently now. "I need you to grow up. And you can't do that if you're still fighting every shadow that talks."

A heavy silence fell again.

Her mother turned back toward the street. "Let's go home."

And Hua Rong followed. Quiet, small, and aching—not because of what Weiren said, but because this time... she knew she'd truly let someone down.