Breaking Free: Love & Rebellion at Blackthorn Academy.-Chapter 61: DRESS CODE VIOLATION.

Headmaster Jian stared at the piece of dismantled hardware on his desk—a burnt-out circuit board connected to what looked like a crude makeshift lens. He pinched the bridge of his nose, then looked up sharply at the boy standing confidently in front of him.

"So, you're saying... Are there hidden cameras? Connected to somewhere outside?" His voice was low, tinged with disbelief and rapidly boiling irritation.

Zinchen Liu nodded, arms folded calmly, as if he wasn't standing in front of the most powerful man in Blackthorn Academy. "Yes, sir. At least one. And if there's one, there could be more."

Headmaster Jian narrowed his eyes. "And when exactly did you discover this?"

"A while ago."

The silence that followed could have shattered glass.

"A while ago?" Jian repeated, his tone now dangerously quiet.

Zinchen gave a slight shrug, like a man explaining why he didn't water the plants last weekend. "I needed to be sure before causing unnecessary panic."

The headmaster's jaw clenched as he leaned forward. "You do realize that keeping such critical information from the administration is a punishable offense? I could have your points slashed in half—"

"Sure," Zinchen interrupted casually, "you could. But then I'd have to report how such a major breach of security happened under your very responsible watch."

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Jian blinked.

"And," Zinchen continued, voice cool but polite, "how these cameras were installed without your knowledge, and how they've possibly been feeding private footage to outside parties. Now, if I, a student, could find this, imagine what the public might say when they hear you didn't."

There was a tense pause.

Zinchen offered a faint, unbothered smile. "I mean... as headmaster, you are responsible for keeping the academy safe, right?"

Headmaster Jian stared at him like he was reconsidering every decision that led him to education as a career. "I see. So this is how students speak to their elders now."

"Well," Zinchen said with a smirk, "I'm just trying to help you... protect your image."

Jian exhaled sharply and leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled. "You are a menace," he muttered.

"Noted," Zinchen said brightly.

Jian waved a hand like he was swatting a fly. "Fine. I'll let this go... this time. But you'll take the responsibility to locate the rest of the cameras. And since this clearly involves student welfare—take Hua Rong with you. She's the prefect now."

Zinchen arched a brow. "Is that an order?"

"It's a warning," Jian growled. "If I see another smug grin on that face, I will reduce your points just for my personal satisfaction."

"I'll try to look gloomy while doing your job," Zinchen said, already turning toward the door.

"Why does no one fear me anymore?" Jian muttered to himself.

Zinchen paused in the doorway and grinned. "Maybe start installing cameras to monitor your cameras."

"Out!"

.....

Zinchen Liu paused mid-step as he caught sight of her—Hua Rong, standing by the hallway window, scribbling something in a notebook. At first, he didn't realize it was her. There was something... different.

No, everything was different.

Gone was the stiff academy uniform she usually wore. In its place, a light blue sweatshirt hung comfortably over her frame, the fabric soft and slightly oversized, with "Blackthorn Academy – Prefect" embroidered in bold, black thread just above the hem. But it wasn't just the sweatshirt. Her hair—usually plain, left down or tied in a low ponytail—was now styled into twin pigtails, loose strands brushing against her cheeks.

He blinked. Was this really the same girl?

He walked over, slower than usual. Maybe it was the way the light from the window caught the curve of her cheek or how focused she looked, biting her lip slightly as she noted something down. When she looked up, her eyes—dark, clear, unflinching—met his.

Her soft pink lips parted. "What happened?"

Zinchen cleared his throat, suddenly aware of the odd tightness in his chest. "What are you doing?" he asked, then added, his voice cracking slightly, "And... the dress?"

"Oh—this?" She glanced down at the sweatshirt, brushing her palm across the lettering. "Teacher Jiayi gave it to me this morning. Apparently, this is what the prefects wear. She said I needed to look the part."

He stared. "It suits you," he muttered without thinking.

She raised a brow, smiling just a little, then held up her notebook. "I was making a checklist of dress code violations. My first duty—checking if students are wearing the proper uniform. Riveting, I know."

"Right..." Zinchen nodded, stuffing his hands into his pockets, regaining his usual cool. "Well, when you're done playing fashion police, we need to talk."

"We?"

"Yes," he said. "You and me. We've got something to do."

Her smile faltered a bit. "I don't want to."

"It's Headmaster Jian's order," he said plainly.

She sighed, exaggerated. "You always show up with the worst timing, you know that?"

"I like to think of it as... impeccable timing," Zinchen replied, a lopsided smirk forming.

She rolled her eyes, but he caught the slight lift at the corner of her mouth. "Fine. Give me fifteen minutes. I'll wrap this up."

"I'll be counting." He turned to leave, then added without looking back, "Nice pigtails, by the way."

Her eyes widened slightly. "Huh?"

"You should wear them more often."

And with that, he disappeared down the corridor, leaving Hua Rong blinking after him.

..

Hua Rong stepped into Section B, her eyes scanning the room with practiced calm. Her gaze quickly landed on someone familiar—Xu Lingwei—leaning against a desk and chatting with none other than Han Xinyung, the same guy who had joined them during the recent academy match.

Her breath caught for a moment. Of course, he'd be here. She reminded herself she had a job to do, not a personal mission, and released a quiet sigh before stepping fully into the room.

Almost instantly, the chatter faded. Heads turned in her direction with a wave of murmurs.

"Well, look at that. The prefect ma'am arrived right on time," one of the boys near the back said, snickering.

"Yeah, here to make sure you don't wear that ridiculous bangle again," Hua Rong replied coolly, her eyes narrowing at his wrist. "Remove it."

He lifted his arm as if admiring it. "Why should I listen to you?" he sneered. "I've never even listened to the teachers."

Hua Rong folded her arms. "What's your point?"

He stared at her for a long moment, something cold flickering behind his eyes—then laughed, sharp and empty. "It doesn't matter to me. It's people like you, the poor ones, who cling to rules."

That was enough.

Before anyone could blink, she stepped forward, put her notebook aside on the desk, and twisted his arm behind his back with one fluid move. A gasp rippled through the classroom.

"Wha—hey!" he barked, struggling slightly.

"I told you to take it off," Hua Rong said flatly, yanking the silver bangle free from his wrist with a quick motion.

"Han Xinyung!" she called sharply.

Han looked up, surprised to be dragged into whatever this was. "Uh—yeah?"

She walked over and dropped the bangle in his hand. "Don't give it back."

"Sure... okay." He blinked, clearly unsure what just happened.

Without another glance at the boy she'd restrained, Hua Rong handed her notebook to the next student. "Hold this."

Then she moved through the room one by one, inspecting each student's attire. A chain yanked off here, a ring confiscated there—she didn't hesitate. Order was her responsibility now.

Finally, she reached the desk she'd been instinctively avoiding—Xu Lingwei's.

He stood up slowly, a playful glint in his eyes. "Well then," he said, arms slightly raised, "go ahead—check me."

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "How am I looking?" she asked instead.

He looked her over, from her light blue sweatshirt down to her spotless shoes. Her hair was tied up in two neat pigtails—something he had always used to seen on her before.

"You look like the version of you I saw that day," he said softly. "It suits you. A little chaotic. Very... you."

Her lips twitched into the beginning of a smile before she caught herself.

Around them, the air shifted. Whispered comments and barely concealed grins stirred through the room.

"Hey! Do your jobs!" Han Xinyung barked, suddenly sounding like the most responsible one there.

Hua Rong blinked, quickly collecting herself. "Right. I'm done here," she said, grabbing her notebook from the student and spinning on her heel.