Mature Fantasy Power Invasion

Chapter 86

Chapter 86

A new week, Monday—Yuanyue Academy.

"Morning, Sis Shiyu!"

"!!"

"Have you had lunch, Sis Shiyu?"

"!!"

"Heading to your elective, Sis Shiyu?"

"Eep!"

"Sis Shiyu, about—"

"Wah!"

The sun was already sliding west when Yan Huan—fresh off volleyball practice—tried to catch up with Ye Shiyu, who was clutching her bag and hurrying toward the gate. The moment she heard his voice she froze, eyes flying wide. She glanced around in a panic, cheeks flaming, then ducked her head and bolted.

Before he could finish half a sentence she vanished from sight.

"Meow~"

A translucent black cat in a yellow scarf popped onto Yan Huan's shoulder. Watching Ye Shiyu's fleeing back, it remarked,

"You're awful, Yan Huan. You know Auntie Ye banned her from talking to you or she'll spill everything. Yet you keep acting innocent and cornering her."

Yan Huan glanced at Meow-chan, who bapped his cheek with a paw.

"You've scared her half to tears. Talking's impossible, not talking's impossible."

Yan Huan gave a small smile. "She used to hypnotize me with zero-frame spells—turnabout's fair play. Besides, those two coat-hanger 'personality corrections' Auntie Ye delivered were brutal. Turned my sis Shiyu into a baby chick for the whole week."

The twin hanger strikes had worked instantly; Monday's Ye Shiyu was now a model student—at least for now.

Yan Huan scratched Meow-chan's head and added, "I'm not just teasing, either. I was buried in Spencer's Doujin Club last week and didn't notice Shiyu never joined a club."

"She's probably in no mood to care about that right now, meow."

"Exactly. And if she keeps dodging me, Step Three stalls. That's a ticking bomb."

Yan Huan pulled out his phone to check the time. "I'll ping her on Plane later."

"Meow~"

"Wonder how Spencer's club is doing. She was supposed to come back today."

Technically Spencer had been suspended for a week and wasn't due until Tuesday, but she'd shown up on Monday and the Board simply looked the other way.

The scent of "Chammy" is getting thick, Principal Hermes.

While Yan Huan debated whether to swing by the club building, a light tap landed on his shoulder—

Tap.

He spun around. Nobody there.

Then Meow-chan on his other shoulder gave a soft "Meow."

Yan Huan sensed the shift and started to turn—

A girl with starlight in her eyes appeared in front of him, hands behind her back, leaning in with a playful smile.

Pop!

She chewed pink bubble gum; the bubble swelled, then shrank with a sweet snap.

"Yan Huan."

It was Bai Yi.

He blinked, then smiled. "You're on campus today?"

"Mm-hmm."

Bai Yi straightened, tucking a strand of loose black hair behind her ear. "Just got here. Had other stuff this morning."

Yan Huan glanced at the time and raised an eyebrow. "Electives finished ages ago and you're not in any club. Why show up now?"

Bai Yi stared at him for a second, cheeks puffing.

"Meow?"

While Meow-chan tilted its head in confusion, Bai Yi spun on her heel, back to Yan Huan, and started walking.

"Hmm, why indeed?" she mused aloud. "Since I haven't joined a club, I should ask my bestie if they're still recruiting. And tomorrow there's that school group I missed last week, so I came to ask you."

Yan Huan read between the lines. "Idol, is this about the MV shoot?"

"."

Her steps halted. She looked back, cheeks still pink, puffed like a squirrel.

"Well, being an idol is part of it," she admitted. "Brainstorming the MV with you should help."

Idol thoughts are easy to read. They could've hashed this out on Plane—Yan Huan wasn't even in the video. He'd just show up at whatever time she picked.

But the topic was already on the table, and he had no reason to refuse. As a Modifier owner herself, her mother—basically a timed explosive—might be cooking up something new. Might as well treat today as a customer-service follow-up.

"No problem. I'm heading to the club building anyway. Walk with me; we can talk on the way."

Out of his sight, Bai Yi pouted. She'd pictured a quiet café, two cups of bubble tea, soft conversation. Now it felt like trailing a supervisor on an inspection tour—way too official.

"Great," she said aloud, "I've got friends there too. I'll introduce you."

At that, her inner grumbling quieted and her eyes lit up.

Overlapping social circles—

Love, after all, is a total merger of two lives. It's not just bodies and hearts; it's the slow interweaving of every circle that surrounds them. Introducing his friends to her, her family to him, earning smiles and approval.

So when Yan Huan offered to bring her into his circle, Bai Yi saw it as a bright green light.

Maybe she didn't need Uncle Jiang's elaborate schemes. Maybe the student-council president—handsome, top grades—would simply confess on his own.

Ahem.

Too many daydreams; stay cool.

Bai Yi cleared her throat, the little imp inside her spinning wild fantasies while her face stayed calm. She fell in beside him and together they set off for Yuanyue's club-activities building.

Dong—dong—dong—

Rewind a little. The bells of Yuanyue's landmark Moon-Watching Bell-Tower chimed, announcing the end of the afternoon electives.

Behind the lectern in a tiered classroom stood a round-faced, slightly baby-faced teacher from Longguo, smiling behind wire-rimmed glasses and a neat work smock. On the whiteboard behind her:

"Introduction to Buddhist History"

"Buddha's Footprints in Gandhara"

"Instructor: Lin Wanwan"

Lin Wanwan's eyes drifted from her slides to some distant thought.

Lin Wanwan, Longguo native, had come to Linmen for post-grad studies. Like most people nearing thirty, her life had its ups and downs: smooth PhD, a cushy post at an elite school, a Linmen green card—

—and regrets over her humanities major, crushing cost of living, emotional desert, reigning champion of "smallest friend circle."

Still, her trajectory was upward; the future looked promising.

Ding-ding-ding~

Right then, her phone alarm chimed softly, pulling Lin Wanwan's attention back to the classroom.

Snapping out of her thoughts, she smiled gently at the class.

"All right, that's it for today. Don't forget—tonight at midnight is the deadline for your assignment. Everyone needs to upload a short paper on Gandhara Buddhism, okay?"

"Got it!"

The students below began chatting among themselves.

"Hey, are you writing about those relics your family owns?"

"Yeah. Dad just picked up a couple more Gandhara fragments—perfect material. Only problem is the final essay feels impossible."

"No worries. I'll get Mom to invite a few Buddhist-studies profs to coach us. We'll tackle it together and aim for all A's."

"Dude, you're the best! Thanks!"

Yuanyue Academy ranks every course on a curve; only about thirty percent of students earn an A.

Courses with varied assessments tend to favor the affluent legacy students, who can always find new ways to game the system and raise the bar.

Conversely, classes graded solely by exams give the scholarship students a slight edge.

Why only slight?

Because the legacy students' grades aren't weak. On the contrary, their academic performance is every bit as strong.

Take last spring's entrance exam for example.

Of the top twenty freshmen, only six—including Yan Huan and Hashimoto—were external admits; the rest were legacy heirs.

As a result, external students arrive under crushing pressure.

Former district champions fade into the crowd at Yuanyue, forced to work twice as hard just to stay average.

Stripped of their old academic shield, gaps in wealth, experience, and polish soon become chasms.

Still, this year seems a little better.

Lin Wanwan looked away from the legacy clique toward another cluster of students.

A bespectacled otaku was packing up; on his screen, a gacha-game mascot beamed brightly.

It was Hashimoto, the Student Council accountant.

Beside him, a short-haired blonde stood and glanced over.

Ashley, captain of the Discipline Committee.

"Oi, nerd, what's the plan after class?"

"Club building. I still haven't finished the equipment inventory."

Hashimoto pocketed his phone, adjusted his glasses, and shot Ashley a glare.

"Speaking of which, isn't the Discipline Committee on easy street? Everyone's swamped except you."

Ashley snorted.

"Spare me. Once Club Wars start, we'll be the busiest of all. Resting now is just strategic, got it?"

"Tch."

"Whatever. Pack up, let's move."

"Huh? Thought you had nothing to do. You're coming to the club building too?"

"Obviously. I've got practice! Unlike your Computer Club, which just sits around binge-watching anime all day."

Hashimoto flushed, desperate to defend his club—then realized she had a point.

Damn those guys; the group chat was nothing but torrent links. His hard drive was begging for mercy.

"Hashimoto-kun~"

Just as they were about to leave, a pretty girl in a JK uniform approached.

Hands clasped, she tilted her head and winked at Hashimoto.

"Um, Hashimoto-kun, could you send me your notes later? I only want a reference, I swear I won't copy. Pretty please~"

Her sugary voice and single-eye wink oozed sweetness. Ashley shuddered like she'd caught static.

Hashimoto blinked.

"Sure, I'll Plane it to you."

"You serious?"

Ashley stared at him in disgust.

"Huh?"

Hashimoto froze, phone in hand.

Ashley clicked her tongue, ready to roast him, but the girl suddenly changed her tune.

"Ah, forget it, no big deal. Bye, Hashimoto-kun!" She waved and skipped off.

Hashimoto watched her leave, raised an eyebrow, and slipped his phone away.

Ashley smirked.

"Still the same pushover, huh, Mr. Nice Guy? Thought you only loved your 2-D wives. What happened—one little pouty voice and you fold?"

Hashimoto threw up his hands.

"Stop making me sound like some hormone-driven beast. I don't like her. How many times do I have to say it? Real girls do nothing for me."

"Bro, she had you on a leash. And you claim you're immune to 3-D?"

Hashimoto rolled his eyes.

"Not wasting breath on you, Ms. Violence-and-Romance brain. I just think keeping good relations can't hurt. Those kids have connections—might come in handy."

"Fair point. Still, when I picture a useless otaku, your face pops up. From day one I knew you'd stay single all through high school, Mr. Nice Guy."

Hashimoto glanced sideways.

"By that logic, the entire student council's doomed. Especially you—school-famous violent girl. Guys dive into lockers when they see you."

Veins bulged on Ashley's forehead; she clenched a fist, then paused, curious.

"Speaking of that—have you noticed something off between the President and the Vice-President?"

"Huh? President and Sakuramiya?"

Ashley nodded.

"At first Yua Lina sounded like she was joking, but think about it—those two are way too in sync."

Hashimoto laughed.

"If they ever date, I'll eat my shoe."

"Stop angling for free meals."

"Ashley, guys know guys. I've got the President pegged—he's like me, a size-queen."

"..."

"Mark my words, the one he actually likes is the childhood sweetheart who fell from the sky. How can any side character compete? That setup is unbeatable."

"...You've pickled your brain with anime."

Ashley was about to leave when she noticed, out the corner of her eye, a round-spectacled teacher who'd apparently been standing there for ages.

"Ah! M-Ms. Lin?!"

Ashley jumped back; Hashimoto spun around and ducked behind her.

"S-since when?!"

"Ahaha, I heard you two were heading to the club building, so I thought I'd tag along."

Lin Wanwan adjusted her glasses gently and waved.

"By the way, about that girl asking for homework..."

Ashley glanced at Hashimoto. His face paled.

"Ms. Lin, I swear I've never given anyone my work before, and I never will! Please don't dock my grade!"

Ashley straightened.

"Ms. Lin, Hashimoto doesn't have the guts. And I'll make sure it doesn't happen again."

Lin Wanwan blinked, then smiled.

"Relax. I just wanted to ask if any legacy students are bullying you. We've seen worse in past years—way worse."

She counted on her fingers.

"Forcing externals to ghostwrite essays, slapping their names on others' work—some kids nearly dropped out."

Seeing their open mouths, she added kindly,

"This year's been mild, so I'm only checking in. If anything happens, come to me. I've got your backs."

Hashimoto's cheeks reddened. Ashley grinned.

"You moonlight as a counselor too, Ms. Lin?"

"Not officially, but I'm an optimist. Students like to talk, and they say it helps."

"Got it."

They packed up and followed Lin Wanwan toward the club building.

Halfway there, Hashimoto suddenly asked,

"Speaking of which, Ms. Lin, what are you going to the club building for?"

"Well, that's how it is. I've been asked to serve as faculty advisor for a new club, so I'll have to stop by every week."

"Really? Hard to picture you taking on such a thankless gig, Ms. Lin."

Lin Wanwan smiled faintly but kept the memory of why she had accepted to herself.

Tap!

It had been one afternoon when several men in Golden Lion Group uniforms strode in and set a heavy suitcase on her desk.

"Ms. Lin, we sincerely invite you to be faculty advisor to the club our Young Lady is founding. We hope you will fulfill your pedagogical duties—guide her away from error, set her on the right path, and keep her from getting expelled."

Lin Wanwan adjusted her glasses and regarded them coolly.

"I've heard about Miss Spencer's situation, and I sympathize. But I'm afraid my weekly club periods are already booked, so you'll have to find someone else."

The men acted as if she hadn't spoken. They popped the latches. Bundles of cash gleamed inside.

"Ms. Lin, this is your retainer. If our Young Lady is still enrolled at the end of term, you'll receive an identical second payment."

"We simply ask that you supervise her healthy, wholesome, and successful club activities. Easy, right?"

Lin Wanwan's pupils shrank. She wet her lips and studied the suitcase.

She had meant to refuse.

But they were offering... so much.

And so Lin Wanwan accepted, officially becoming the faculty advisor to a brand-new club.

Wow. Just like that, advising a club could rake in this kind of money?

Was this what life looked like for the ultra-rich?

Drop rates were insane!

Humming cheerfully, Lin Wanwan strolled alongside the single-track-minded Hashimoto into the club building. Only Ashley, trailing behind, rubbed her chin and sensed something was off.

All the other clubs already had advisors. How had Ms. Lin—who'd been teaching them for almost a month—suddenly become an advisor this week?

Had any new clubs been founded recently?

Oh.

Wait.

There had been one!

Ashley's eyes bulged.

"Um... we're going upstairs, Ms. Lin?"

"Yup, Room 201."

"That's the biggest unused classroom on the second floor, isn't it?!"

"Heh, I suppose. First time here myself."

Ashley stared, her face draining of color. Watching the two adults chuckle their way forward, she instinctively reached out.

"Hold on—Hashimoto, Ms. Lin—"

"Huh?"

Hashimoto turned at once. Ashley's panicked, sweat-slicked face greeted him.

"Wh-what's wrong?"

He frowned, but Lin Wanwan didn't even slow. Her hand was already on the doorknob.

"Ms. Lin, wait! This club isn't normal—it's a dou—"

Ashley's hand shot up too late.

Click.

The door swung open.

Lin Wanwan stepped inside, still smiling. The vast room was packed floor to ceiling with books—every cover a pixelated blur of the unnameable.

Doujin books. Mountains of them.

The sudden draft from the open door nudged the nearest stack. It tipped, avalanched, and a mosaic tsunami roared straight at Lin Wanwan.

The smile froze on her face like she'd swallowed a flashbang. Lewd holy light engulfed her mind as the books slammed her backward.

"Kyaa! Retreat!" Hashimoto yelped.

Ashley yanked his collar and leapt back several meters, ghost-white, as the flood surged out.

Ashley gaped into the room. Amid the paper mountain, Spencer stared back in horror.

"Y-you guys..."

Ashley had no energy to scold. She dropped to her knees beside the "book sea" and shouted, "Ms. Lin! Are you okay?!"

Half-buried, Lin Wanwan rubbed the knot on her head and picked up the nearest volume.

She should never have looked.

Her brain blue-screened.

Wh-what is this?!

"Spencer! What on earth? Why is the room stuffed with these?!"

"W-well, uh..."

Spencer scratched her cheek, too embarrassed to explain.

Lin Wanwan, still on the floor, muttered, "Dou...jin books? So this is what they meant by 'books.' Wait, don't tell me the club's name actually means—"

She stared at the censored, blinding cover in her hand, mind going white.

All she could see was the memory of those Golden Lion brutes sliding the suitcase toward her.

"We just need you to oversee healthy, wholesome, successful club activities. Simple, right?"

She had swallowed hard, hand trembling toward the cash.

"I—I accept."

But as her fingers brushed the case, the men pulled it back an inch.

"Fair warning: if you can't handle something this simple, the President overseas may be... displeased."

"..."

Sprawled among the books, Lin Wanwan's hand went limp. The volume slipped from her fingers; her eyes spiraled like smoke.

"Ms. Lin?!"

"Teacher! What's wrong?!"

With her last ounce of strength, Lin Wanwan croaked, "I... resign..."