“Spoken like my student. How could Guderian be your mentor? You should’ve studied the art of shamelessness with me!” The vice principal praised, clicking his tongue.
Across from them sat the entire investigation team, led by Andrew, with Parsi sitting beside him. Andrew stared at his enemies across the hall, eyes shining with determination. He vowed to avenge being made a fool of, his slightly plump, fair face twitching.
“Brother Andrew, are you alright? Your face is twitching,” the vice principal called out across the hall. “Not sick, are you?”
Once again, Andrew had been taunted by this old scoundrel and didn’t know how to retaliate, turning his head away stubbornly.
“Trying to mess with me,” the vice principal snorted. “Youngster.”
“Vice principal, how old are you?” Finger asked.
“Twenty-five.”
Finger was stunned. He vaguely knew that the vice principal and the principal were from the same generation, and that the principal’s age was no less than 130.
“That’s my golden age, forever twenty-five!” The vice principal said with utmost seriousness, waving to Manstein in the audience. “Hey! Son!”
Manstein, like Andrew, turned his head, unwilling to acknowledge this foolish father in public.
The selected student representatives were taking their seats. The Lionheart Society had taken half the seats. They had all changed into crimson uniforms with white sashes, neat as a military formation. The Student Union took the other half; they never aligned with the Lionheart Society and had chosen black uniforms. Caesar’s pride and joy, the lace-dressed girl group, appeared in long black lace dresses—it seemed they were here to mourn their competitors. The two groups occupied the left and right sides of the hall, respectively.
The Student Union President, Caesar Gattuso, was clearly attending with a casual attitude, wearing headphones and leisurely listening to music. The paparazzi, meanwhile, keenly noticed that the women of the organization leaders were absent—neither Nono nor Susie was present.
However, someone was still here to captivate with beauty. Xia Mi, a top contender for the title of campus queen among the freshmen, was leading the Freshmen Association, accompanied by a group of infatuated boys, sitting on the Lionheart Society’s side. She held a bouquet of lily buds, and anyone could guess who those flowers were meant for. Of course, no one could guarantee that if the situation worsened, she wouldn’t use the flowers to smack Andrew…
The last heavyweight figure was Lu Mingfei, the only S-Rank student in the entire college. He shrank back, sitting in the corner on the Lionheart Society’s side. Considering that recent photos of him and Finger, the news group leader, wrapped in white bedsheets and eating sausages had been circulated to alumni worldwide… His desire to keep a low profile was understandable. He seemed to still have some loyalty, choosing not to sit with the Student Union. After all, Caesar was his boss. Of course, everyone knew that in his recent actions in China, he had received a lot of care from Chu Zihang.
“Caesar’s girl group is quite the formidable opponent!” the vice principal frowned.
“What do you mean?” Finger asked.
“The hearing is like a ball game. We and the investigation team are playing, and it’s not just about footwork—it’s also about the cheerleaders’ lineup. I think the other side has more beautiful cheerleaders!” The vice principal looked troubled.
Finger nodded. “But we have Xia Mi. Xia Mi alone can beat ten of theirs!”
“Yes, she’s the only girl who gives me comfort… I really look forward to seeing her pass the swimming assessment.” The vice principal nodded slightly.
King Solomon knocked the gavel, and the hall fell silent.
“I declare the hearing officially open,” King Solomon said solemnly. “The investigation team from the School Board and the college’s management team have differing views on the lineage of A-Rank student Chu Zihang. We are forced to hold this hearing to give everyone an opportunity for open discussion. In the pre-provided materials, the investigation team severely condemns the college’s negligence, while the college calls this condemnation…” He looked down to read from the document, “‘the nonsense of a frog sitting at the bottom of a well gazing at the sky.’ I am merely quoting the vice principal here, but I regret that I don’t fully understand this phrase.”
“A frog at the bottom of a well,” the vice principal corrected. “It’s a Chinese idiom. It means that a frog, or a toad-like creature, sits at the bottom of a well and says, ‘Ah, the sky is only this big—not even as big as my well.’ It’s a metaphor for someone with a limited vision, arrogantly making sweeping statements without knowing anything.”
“An expressive rhetorical device,” King Solomon commented. He loved rhetoric.
Andrew’s rage could almost blow the roof off Valhalla Hall, and snickers came from the Lionheart Society’s side of the audience.
“Now then, both sides, please present your evidence. You may argue, but the final judgment rests with us.” King Solomon struck the gavel again.
It was like sounding the starting bell—Andrew sprang to his feet. “The School Board’s doubts about the college management team are fully supported by evidence! Over the past ten years, there has been an atmosphere of excessive freedom on campus. The committees have failed to effectively supervise and guide the students—coursework pressure is too light, irresponsible ‘free day’ activities, arbitrary lineage ratings… Most outrageously, the Execution Bureau has completely turned into a violent department!” He slammed a stack of documents onto the table.
“It hasn’t changed; it’s just that the School Board doesn’t understand our past well enough—the Execution Bureau has always been a violent department!” retorted the head of the Execution Bureau from the audience in a raspy, cold tone.
The elite members of the Execution Bureau erupted into applause. Schneider was stating a fact. The Execution Bureau took no shame in being called a “violent department.” Their only regret was not being as well-equipped as the Gear Department.
“Order!” King Solomon knocked the gavel. “The most important thing is the presentation of information, not quarreling!”
“Very well!” Andrew said loudly. “The first piece of evidence that the School Board will present is Chu Zihang’s file from the Execution Bureau!” He slammed another document onto the table.
“Being reasonable isn’t about being loud,” the vice principal said calmly. “Chu Zihang? He’s a good kid—excellent in both conduct and academics! Great grades, awarded the principal’s scholarship for two consecutive years… not to mention he has a compassionate heart. All our students know that he often helps elderly grandmothers cross the street.”
The audience burst into laughter.
“Really? Let’s talk about the collapse of the Cape Town baseball stadium! ‘King’s Blaze,’ a high-risk Yanling, with tens of thousands of spectators. None of this was mentioned in the mission report. What are you covering up?” Andrew demanded loudly.